#coloring took almost roughly 14 hours

[alteredphoenix]

WoW x ToLuminaria

Featuring two of the armor tier sets from the Sepulcher of the First Ones raid on Mythic difficulty

Celia is wearing the Godstalker’s Battlegear (hunter set) and Michelle is wearing the Theurgic Starspeaker’s Regalia (shaman set).

[drawlfoy]

The Wonders of Ohio P.5

masterlist (check here for parts 1-4!) request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: from 14 year old me babey

warnings: cringe, mentions of drug use, mentions of sex, language, and just bad writing

summary: y/n is in her senior year of high school when she is asked to take on an exchange student from britain that’s a little...different. this is NOT a nonmagic AU. draco is still a wizard and this will become and integral part of the story shortly.

a/n: heyyyy everyone. i graduated from high school this week and i’m posting this as my happy-one-year-to-me. as some of you may know, i posted my very first fic on this day a year ago. i’m really happy to see how i’ve grown since and i’m so lucky to have shared this with all of you. anyways, nittygritty--

this part is really the last slow exposition chapter. chapters 6 on will be a whole whirlwind beginning with homecoming and i hope that you guys are willing to stick around. i promise itll be worth the wait. y/n is going to get the story arc of a lifetime and also please do not hate heather she is just going through it ok 

anywayssssssss

tags tags tags  @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural

word count: 4.6k (;))

song recs: 

strawberry blonde -- mitski 

in your neighbors garden -- mimi bay

wishes -- beach house

ode to artifice -- samia 

pink in the night -- mitski

enjoy <3

The seatbelt buckle scorched the side of Y/N’s exposed neck as she turned to face the disheveled blonde in the passenger seat.

“Do I need to teach you to set an alarm?” 

Draco let out a huff. “Stop. Do you have a….a comb, or a brush, or something here?” His hands looked abnormally fidgety. Their actions were shaky, varying from patting his pockets to running through his hair. He seemed more and more frustrated each time his hands left his pockets empty. 

How curious Y/N thought as she racked her brain for any remembrance of putting a brush in her car. It was always a mess, and she honestly couldn’t blame Draco for assuming that anything could be in there.

“I don’t think there’s one here,” said Y/N, trying to sound at least a little sympathetic despite the fact that his tardiness had them 10 minutes late. “You can look around if you want, king.”

“What’d you call me?” His voice was suddenly sharp and awake.

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard that she thought they’d get stuck in the back of her head. “You don’t--ok. It’s a joke. You can call guys here that.”

“And it means that I’m…?”

“It means I’m acknowledging that you exist, I guess. It’s not like it has a strict negative or positive connotation. Like, I can say ‘Ok king’ to any man telling me something and it can either be sarcastic, or it can be because I don’t know what else to say and just want to let him know I heard him.”

Draco’s eyes looked a tad glazed over when Y/N dared a glance in his direction.

“I know it’s confusing. I’m sorry. I’ll try and ease you into the world of American slang.” 

He granted her a little “uh-huh” before opening up the glovebox with great difficulty and rummaging through the mess. Y/N would’ve felt more embarrassed about the tampon that fell on the ground in the process if he seemed like he actually knew what it was. 

Her attention turned back to the road as Draco continued to sift through things. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything embarrassing hidden away in the corners of her car--after all, it hadn’t been organized since the beginning of summer--and decided that it was better to pretend it wasn’t happening.

It wasn’t the eerie silence that eventually prompted her to turn to look his direction--no, it was the weird energy in the car, like the feeling right before a thunderstorm. All the hair raised on her arms, and she shivered...but it was stifling hot in the car.

“Oh, did you find a brush?” she asked. His hair laid as perfectly as always, but his hands were lying shaking in his lap, palms to the sky. No hairbrush was in sight.

“Er... “ He was paler than usual, which was quite the feat for someone who looked like a ream of paper. “No. Just remembered a trick my father taught me.”

She tensed at the mention of his father--the very first time Draco had done so. “Oh. Okay. Glad you got it figured out, king.”

Her voice lightened on the last word, hoping she could coax a little smile out of him. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“Ok.”

oOo

 There were many things Y/N thought she understood, but Draco Malfoy being in her Physics C class was not one of them. She took pity and sat next to him as he fumbled his way through the first lecture. His notes, while neat, were littered with crossed out portions and question marks. 

You do know there’s an eraser on your pencil, right? she jotted on a note that she sent his way. His brow furrowed and he seemed to tap at the end of the eraser for just a few moments before deciding otherwise and xing out another practice problem he’d done incorrectly. Symbols that she’d never seen before were scattered all throughout his notes. 

Maybe the UK kids just learn stuff differently.

By the time that Physics came to an end, Y/N was eager to get away from the storm cloud that was brewing over Draco’s perfectly smoothed and infuriatingly pretty moonbeam colored hair. The amount of attention he was getting from all the other girls made Y/N want to jump off a cliff--suddenly everyone was her “best friend” “just wanting to check up on what happened over summer”. She was grateful to see the face of Lizzy, grinning and looking mischievous during their break period.

“You must be Draco,” said the redhead, a glint in her eyes. He looked a little scared.

“Er...yeah.”

“Mind giving us some privacy? Y/N and I have some urgent matters to discuss,” she continued, looking him up and down. Y/N attempted to ignore the twist in her gut as she watched him swallow and nod, turning away to go brood elsewhere. Once he was out of sight, Lizzy grabbed her arm and yanked her into the girl’s bathroom.

“It’s so funny how he’s following you around like a lost puppy,” Lizzy said. “Also, he’s gorgeous. If you don’t at least try to get some of that, then I’m never trusting your judgement again.”

“But, Li-”

“The boy’s a fucking walking Wattpad story cover. Dark, tragic past, unbelievably sharp jawline, rich parents, exotic accent....honestly, Y/N, I don’t know what else you could want.” 

“Mom literally called him my host brother,” said Y/N. The bathroom was starting to smell suspiciously like cotton candy. “That’s wrong. On so many levels.” 

“But you’re not related!”

“But it’s gross! And predatory! The kid doesn’t even know how to do basic algebra! I’m all he has!” 

Lizzy’s eyebrow found its new home in the middle of her forehead. “You’ve gone absolutely batty if you think that every girl cursed with attraction to men in Cincinnati wouldn’t jump his skin at the chance. Use your head, queenie. He’s not alone. Shoot your shot.”

Y/N opened her mouth to serve back a retort--that was definitely there, thank you very much--but decided against it once she realized that the bathroom had become dead silent. “Um...maybe we can go over this later.” She flickered her eyes over to the line behind them that was now intently hanging on their every word. “I forgot I had to talk to the counselor.”

Lizzy was smirking as they exited the bathroom and began the search for Draco. It didn’t take long--the circle comprised of Heather and her friends was more than enough of a giveaway that he was about. 

“Draco, sorry to make you wait,” Y/N called out. It took all her effort to abstain from cringing as her voice rang out across the group. Heather turned to send her a big smile.

“Hey Y/N! You didn’t tell me that Draco was from London!” 

“He’s not,” she responded. “He’s from Wiltshire.” 

“Wiltshire. Of course. That’s what I meant.”

Draco’s smile was tense as he looked down at Heather--who stood roughly 4 inches below him--but he was smiling, and that wasn’t something that Y/N was on the receiving end of frequently. She didn’t know whether to be offended or relieved.

“I’m sure. Break’s almost over, Draco. I can show you where the English department is before the time is up.” 

 He paused, looking down at the blonde grinning up at him. “Er, actually, Heather already offered to show me around for the rest of the day.”

“Yeah, for sure. I’ll see you in French.”

Y/N was shocked at the sheer amount of jealousy that rose up in her throat as she turned away and made her way to Art History---the only class Y/N and Draco didn’t share. The walk was strange. Being in solitude after having a gloomy British boy attached to her hip was understandably eerie. Because that’s all it was. Adjustment. Nothing else.

She settled in at a table full of her friends, namely Sylvia. The tall girl was always a bit whimsical, but Y/N found that she was a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else. It made sense that Sylvia would take Art History--her dark academic inspired aura and the perpetually hot mug of black coffee just screamed history nut. 

“How’s your new brother?” she asked after the teacher had taken attendance. “I say that because I haven’t heard his name yet.”

“Ick, it’s gross to think of him as my brother,” Y/N responded. “And I know! We need to catch up. I’m sorry about not talking to you for a bit. The time difference was a bit weird during your trip.”

“It’s ok, I get it. I was away on family business, anyways. I didn’t expect you to spend your days staying up until the wee hours of the night to tell me all about your exchange student. Anyways. His name?”

“You’re gonna scream when you hear it, Vie,” she said. “Draco Malfoy. It’s so posh. You have no idea. It definitely suits him, though. He’s very...You good?” 

Sylvia’s olive toned face looked a bit paler than usual. “Yeah. Yeah, I just remembered that I forgot to take the trash out this morning. I’ll have to text my mom about it.” She adjusted the wool cardigan that hung around her shoulders and came up looking composed. “Draco, huh? His parents must hate him.”

“At the very least! He’s so rude. And uptight. I can’t tell if it’s just a Brit thing or if it’s because he’s an asshole.” 

Sylvia laughed. “I mean, when I was there over the summer, it was a different culture for sure. We’re by far louder. But I didn’t meet many mean ones. You must’ve just got a bad apple, then.”

“I guess so. He is pret--”

“Ladies, is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”

“No, Mrs. Jensen,” Sylvia and Y/N said in unison. 

oOo

“Thoughts, king?” 

“I told you not to call me that.” Draco glared at her as he tried to open the passenger side door to find that it was locked tight. “Unlock? Please?”

“And I told you not to get cozy with ASB kids, yet here we are,” said Y/N as she slotted the key into the lock and turned. 

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing. I’m just looking out for you.” She slammed the door shut and threw her bag in the bag. The line of traffic to get out of the school was long and stuffy, and she was eager to just get it over with.

The wait was so hot that Draco peeled off his stupid formalish jacket that was on thin ice of being called a blazer and probably worth more than her car. Y/N tried to look away as his hair became slightly ruffled, but she couldn’t pry her eyes away. It was endearing, almost, how someone who could look so posh and serious could have ruffly hair--and hair that naturally light, too. She had asked him one night if it was dyed, and he scowled at her and told her the grammatically correct term was dead, and that his hair was alive, just like the rest of him, thank you very much. She dropped it. 

Y/N finally rolled down her window after the AC simply refused to satisfy her, and the wind was a nice reminder to keep in her own lane. Draco was beautiful. There was no other way to put it. He had a feel of power to him, like he was capable of anything but just held it back. But he was just as inaccessible as he was pretty, and there was nothing she could do about that.

“Y/N?” He asked after a few moments of sitting in silence. “What’s Homecoming?” 

“Who told you about that?” 

“Heather. She asked if I had a date. Is that like a ball here?”

“She asked you if you had a date on the first day?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. ASB kids never do sleep, huh.” 

“What?”

“Homecoming isn’t a ball. It’s like a...an…” Y/N paused as she saw Draco raise his eyebrows. “It’s, like, uh….Well I guess it is like a ball. An American one, though. Way less extravagant. It’s an excuse to get dressed up and run around the city. There technically is a dance, and all the ASB kids have to go, but literally no one else does but the underclassmen. Normally I go out with my friends and a date to somewhere fun and take pictures. And then get trashed afterwards.”

“Classy,” said Draco. “I think you can go now.”

A honk behind her emphasized his point as the space in between her and the car in front widened substantially. 

“Thanks. Anyways, it’s not really a big deal. I’d suggest not going with Heather so you can skip out on the dance portion. Or if you want to go with her, get her to come with us into Cincinnati because I am not going to spend my last homecoming watching a grind circle.” 

“A...what circle? And I don’t want to go with her.”

The relief Y/N felt was embarrassing. “Um...better if you don’t worry about it. You have a long time to figure it out anyways.”

He seemed satisfied with that answer, propping his elbow up on the center console. The pristine button up he was wearing had ridden up, exposing the pale skin and the bottom of the tattoo she had seen a hint of earlier. “Do you have a date?”

“Um. No, not yet. I don’t think anyone except for couples do yet. We have until the end of this month to figure it out, so I’m not too worried about it.”

He nodded as Y/N’s car finally left the school parking lot and began picking up speed. 

“I’m assuming you had balls? At your posh boarding school?” 

“Er…” Draco ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it further. “We only had one. It was when I was 14. We called it the Yule Ball.”

“Why only one?”

“It was for a special occasion. We had two other schools join us as well. It was quite a good time.”

“So every student only has one ball in their lifetime?”

“Of course not. Some of us--the ones from old families--have events like that regularly.”

“I’m sorry if this is overstepping my bounds,” began Y/N, noticing how he tensed up, “So you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But, I’m just wondering, what is your family like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like are they nice?”

“Oh.” The line in his forehead relaxed. “No. They wouldn’t like you.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said. “Do you like them?”

She heard the breath hitch in his throat. “I don’t know anymore.”

“I’m sure it’s hard to think about it when you feel like they’ve just shipped you off without anyone,” she added. “I’m really sorry, Draco. I know I’ve been a bit mean to you. I know that I’ll never be able to understand what you’re going through right now.”

The slight smile that spread across his face would’ve knocked her to her knees if she wasn’t already sitting down. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

The silence that awaited them for the rest of the journey was comfortable.

oOo

School began to pick up the pace after the first few days. Y/N got into the swing of homework and her extracurricular workload. Draco was having a bit more difficulty, she presumed, but he’d never admit to it. She took pity one evening and gave him her laptop opened to a Khan Academy tab for Physics and was pleased to see that he showed up to class the next day with completed homework. He asked to borrow her laptop on a much more frequent basis after that. 

The routine they settled into had her heart leaping into her chest almost constantly--they’d eat breakfast together at the table, Y/N would try to ignore how pretty he looked across the table as they shared a pot of black tea (earl grey, which Y/N was thrilled to learn was his favorite as well), they’d get in the car, she’d write him notes in physics to help him (even though he never asked, he always smile and give a little shake of his head before unfolding them and intently staring at her writing), they’d drive home together and bitch about their French teacher, he’d retire to his room and do whatever pretty blonde Brits do in the afternoon, they’d meet unexpectedly at the same time in the late evening to have a final cup of tea, and then they’d go to bed and do it all over again. 

It was difficult for her to admit, but Y/N was falling very quickly for Draco. It was gross, and wrong, and manipulative, and completely against the code of conduct for exchange families, but she couldn’t help but spend her days fantasizing about how his gold-spun hair would feel as she ran her fingers through it or how gently she’d trace her fingers around the tattoo on the soft flesh of his forearm…

But Y/N knew those thoughts weren’t right. And they would go away. Eventually. 

“How’s it going?” Sylvia asked, effectively snapping her out of her thoughts. The Art History sub told them to go into independent study, whatever that meant. Y/N was not very good at either of those words.

“Pretty good. I can’t believe it’s been 3 weeks already,” she said. “It’s gonna be Halloween before we know it.”

“I can’t fucking waitttt,” said Sylvia. “I’m gonna be Wednesday Addams.”

“Again?”

“What else would I be? I get a new high collared black dress every year. It’d be a shame if it were going to go to waste. What are you gonna be?”

“One of the thousands of students finishing their UChicago ED app hours before the deadline.”

“You’re kidding. Can’t you just finish it the day before?”

“Where’s the fun in that? And, plus, I don’t have an idea as cool as Wednesday.”

Sylvia smirked as she opened up her planner and began to jot down something. “How’s Draco doing? I haven’t seen much of him lately. It seems like he never hangs out with us at break anymore.”

“Yeah, I ended up getting him connected with the Physics teacher. He’s getting tutored now. He thinks it’s all bullshit, but I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t get into a good school.”

“Is that all you care about?” She smiled at Y/N. “Lizzy was telling me that you’re interested in him.”

“First of all, keep your voice down. Second of all, I’m not supposed to be, so I’m not.” Y/N hoped that the edge in her voice was convincing enough.

Her friend raised her eyebrows so dramatically that her glasses nearly slipped off her nose. “Y/N, who’s gonna hear about it. You guys are both going away at the end of the year anyways, and I’m sure he’s not going to be writing to his dear mum about his love life. If it’s consensual, there’s nothing wrong with it. I think it’d be good for both of you.”

“I see that, but let’s put me in his shoes right now.” Y/N shuffled in her seat and clasped her hands. “I’m rich. I’m British. I’m very hot. My parents throw extravagant balls for me and I kiss pretty girls that say water like ‘wota’. I’ve spent my life in silk and I only drink the finest teas. My family is so important that I had to be shipped off halfway across the world just to be safe. And now my incredibly expensive life has reached a peak because I’m sleeping with a random girl in Ohio that has run approximately 4 stop signs since I’ve met her.”

“You’re sleeping with Draco?” 

Y/N turned to see Lauren, a wide-eyed, obnoxious, but well meaning girl staring at her. She heard Sylvia stifle a laugh behind her. “No. I was kidding.” The smile that she followed with was awkward and showed way too many teeth. 

“Oh, okay,” said Lauren. “Do you know if he likes anyone?”

Sylvia’s smirk widened.

“No, actually, he’s a pretty private guy.” Y/N sent her another tense smile, and Lauren finally turned away.

“Jealous, huh?”

“Shut up, Vie. You know I wouldn’t go for him. Even if I had the chance.”

She just raised an eyebrow and smiled. 

The afternoon brought its own set of struggles. Their French teacher had blown up at another student who had been caught cheating on their last test, and it was all Y/N could do but hold back her snickers until they were out in the parking lot.

“I can’t believe they still managed to conjugate their cheat sheet wrong.” Y/N was gasping for breath as she unlocked the car door and threw her stuff inside. Draco was watching from the passenger seat, his lips in a soft upturn. “Can you imagine? Oh my god.”

He just shook his head and turned to look out the window, but she could see the smile slowly stretching across his face. “Ridiculous. You could totally tell Monsieur enjoyed it, too. I bet he gets off on making kids like Joey cry.”

“I had a teacher like that,” he started. “He was a Poti-a chemistry teacher.”

“Oh? Did he ever attack you?”

“No. He liked me. Family friends and all.”

“Ah. I almost forgot that your family was rich and influential. Thanks for the reminder.” She reached across and lightly punched his shoulder. His smile, though still remaining, seemed to shrink. “Hey, what’s that in your bag?” 

Y/N motioned to the cardstock peeking out of his nondescript black backpack that always seemed to fit more than it was meant to. She could make out a few words written in what looked like a bright red sharpie--something that did not exactly scream Draco Malfoy aesthetic.

He froze up. “Er. It’s from Heather. I think she called it a Homecoming ask?”

Y/N’s throat dried up to the point that no words would willingly make the climb from her diaphragm to her tongue; instead, she settled for giving him a little nod and what she hoped was a convincing smile.

“I told her I’d think about it,” he continued. “I remember you saying that the school dances sucked. So I let her know that I wasn’t sure yet.”

She nodded again. “Super cool. You can do whatever you want, though. You can come with my group if you’d like, but you’re welcome to go with Heather’s.”

“What? So you aren’t coming with me if I go with Heather?”

“Fuck no, dude. I don’t hate her, but I would way prefer to spend a night with my friends than some girl from my French class that only talks to me because she thinks you’re hot.” 

The expression Draco made reminded Y/N that he would never get comfortable with American girls calling him hot. “Ok. Have you found a date yet?”

“Chad from Econ asked me yesterday.”

“Is that why my seat was covered in glitter?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going with him?” Draco’s hand was clenched tight in a fist in his lap.

“I think so,” said Y/N, steeling herself and deciding to just go for it. “But, of course, if you asked me I would say no to Chad. Just out of principle. I am supposed to be your tour guide, after all.”

The only parts of him moving were the few stray wisps of his hair being pushed around by the AC going. 

“But that’d be weird. I’d only expect you to take that up if you really didn’t want to go to the dance itself.” She swallowed and pulled out onto the main street, putting distance between them and the school. He was silent for a few moments. The quiet, normally comfortable between them, was stifling and strange. She pretended to ignore the way he was fiddling with his cuffs. 

“Yeah, it could be,” was all he said before slumping against the window and closing his eyes.

Mrs. Y/L/N was sitting at the head of the coffee table when the two arrived home, carding between a stack of letters in front of her. The mug of something--probably that new decaf blend she hadn’t stopped raving about--was sitting lopsided on a coaster, just barely about to topple off the edge. She looked like she hadn’t moved for hours, the novel she had been previously reading sat face down to preserve the spot next to her no doubt lukewarm drink.

“Hey Mom,” Y/N said as she set her keys down. “Anything good?”

She looked up, her expression morphing from startled to happy. “Other than the college brochures? Nothing, except...hm, what’s this?”

Her well manicured hand pulled at a crimson envelope, with sloping writing that seemed to shimmer in the light. 

To the Y/L/N Family, it read. The loopiness of the writing looked like it wiggled at the ends, but that had to be a trick of the light. It was dim in the kitchen during afternoons, after all. 

“It looks cool, open it u--”

“No!”

Draco’s voice had never sounded so loud as it did then as he lunged across the kitchen, snatching it out of her mother’s hand and clutching it to his chest. “Er, it’s for me. I recognize the handwriting.”

 “Cool, see you later,” said Y/N. She was up the stairs and slamming her door before either of her housemates could say another word. After the horrible embarrassment that was technically Draco’s rejection, she needed to be alone. 

Even burying her face into her pillow and squeezing her eyes shut didn’t keep the scenes from their car ride at bay. She had been so stupid, so stupid. Why did she even think he wanted that? He was her brother, after all. Oh god, does he think we’re all from Alabama or something?

She wallowed for a few more mournful minutes before deciding that she had to pick herself up and handle it like an adult. After all, she was going to be 18 in just a few months. There was no excuse for her to act like a child anymore. And, plus, it wasn’t like she couldn’t just play this off as a pity invite. Yes,that’s what she’d frame this as if he ever asked her about it again. She felt bad for him was all it was. 

Once satisfied with her internal dialogue, she rolled out of bed and made for the foyer where her bag was still on the table. She’d first walk on Legos barefoot before she had to let a stupid boy--especially one that didn’t know how to turn on their shower and had to ask for her help every time--come between her and her 4.0. Never.

Her thoughts were cut short, however, when she heard a new sound from his side of the hallway. She froze, listening closely. 

Draco was crying.

[honeybadger-the-pop-witch]

Almost

   ───────✧❁✧───────

Spencer Reid × OC

Probably definitely OOC since outside perspective of relationship

Some swearing

Fluff, Humor, Romance, Unrequited crush, a little angst

   ───────✧❁✧───────

Mike Hidgens was always confused by the two of them. He drove home from work, blasting Bowling for Soup, and he was sure she'd be singing along in the passenger seat.

She wasn't.

Instead, she refused to leave her spot in front of the TV. The news covered a hostage situation in a hospital involving the FBI. Her face flushed with fear and eyes glassy as she kept a vice grip on her phone. Mike watched it all.

She paced and prayed and he was confused on why.

She never prayed.

So what made it so different this time around?

Spencer Reid never showed up this morning to get coffee—that's what.

I almost got drunk at school at 14, where I almost made out with the homecoming queen. Who almost went on to be miss texas, but lost to a slut with much bigger breastes. I almost dropped out to move to LA where I was almost famous for almost a day!

He watched them dance around each other for a year.

He remembered each snippet kind of clearly. He didn't want to really pay attention toward the end. His own jealousy colored the tone of memories that weren't meant for him. He didn't want to remember simply because he knew at some point (six months in), when his own feelings finally made sense, she was well on her way of being his.

And it also started out that way, if he remembered correctly.

   ───────✧❁✧───────

"Hi! I'm Gabby, what can I get you this morning?" Her eyes lit up at another new customer. She adored them, Mike learned fairly quickly. It was the attraction of someone possibly interesting but either way easy to talk to. He never understood it himself, but, then again, New Jerseyians always were a bit off their rockers. At least, according to the media, they were. He knew if he told Gabby she'd rant for hours about the stereotypes and no one giving New Jersey enough credit.

The young man with floppy brown hair seemed to be a head and a half taller than her roughly. His blue eyes expressive and nervous and he bounced with pent up energy. "Um, what do you suggest?" He asked her.

Gabby grinned wider. "Overwhelmed? Sit down, and I'll make you something," she offered. Then tore a page out of her English notebook and handed it to him. "Just write out what kinds of stuff you like with coffee. I'll figure it out."

The relief was palpable as the man bent over to do as she said. And Mike, who watched in morbid fascination, felt a weird pang when their eyes met and hands brushed when the paper was exchanged...

And then Blue Eyes ruined the moment.

"You have dark circles under your eyes, are you sleeping enough? You know R.E.M. sleep is really important since it flushes out dangerous byproduct your brain produces throughout the day, right?" He leaned in closer to examine her it seemed. "Judging by the darkness of the circles, try fitting in an extra three hours of sleep a night."

He immediately took three steps back when he realized how close he was, and Mike snickered at the obvious uncomfortable-ness of being that close to Gabby. So yeah, Mike assumed that Blue Eyes blew it.

Then her smile softened, became less forced in a sense, and she laughed.

"Thank you for caring."

   ───────✧❁✧───────

And I almost had you, but I guess that doesn't cut it. Almost loved you—I almost wished you would've loved me too

He did almost have her.

Mike got invited over her apartment for a game night. He came over a bit early, helped her set up the snacks—chips, salsa, quesadillas, that sort of thing—and they talked fairly easily. "Can you believe that Hannah dumped that latte all over that asshole?" He asked her in between fits of laughter.

"Hannah is awesome, of course she wasn't gonna stand for some guy cursing her out," was her reply but the smile was there. Mike felt some pride at the notion of putting it there.

As the night went on, and more of her friends arrived, he kept the small smile on her face. The proud feeling was still there.

"Hey, Gabby, where's this tutor of yours?" Her one college friend—Cynthia, if Mike remembered correctly—asked with that knowing smile girls seemed to have whenever guys were mentioned. He never really understood it but the look alone made her blush slightly.

"Working," she answered a bit too quickly. "I don't know if he'll show—"

The door bell rang and with the hope that lit up on her face, Mike felt something sink in his stomach.

"Hey, sorry, they wouldn't—achoo!"

"Spencer, are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine. I just got locked in a—achoo!—freezer for a bit..."

The world fell away as Cynthia came up from to him. "He's something else, I guess love really is blind," she commented with a fond smile.

"What?"

Love? They've only known each other a few months, love shouldn't be an option.

"I guess it is too early to tell, but if you got her going on Spencer, she wouldn't shut up for a good few hours. Called him handsome, caring, intelligent—everything she could see herself loving in a guy."

"Really?"

He seemed smart, but that was about it. Granted he only interacted with him during work, and that was a very short greeting.

"Oh yeah, but he looks more like a green bean if I'm being honest."

He agreed with the blonde on that statement.

"SPENCER REID GET YOUR ASS IN THAT STEAM SHOWER RIGHT NOW!" Gabby called down the hall. The other people—in suits that looked way too fancy for her apartment above the coffee shop—just bit back laughter.

"I'M FIN—ACHOO!" Spencer must've said something after because Gabby's self-satisfied smirk was on full display. Mike only laughed as she turned to the other people and began chewing them out in Spanish. To this day, he never knew what was said, but she obviously humbled them with her "angry chihuahua energy".

(Her words, not his.)

That night it slowly became obvious that any chance he thought he'd have flew right out the window. For being "just friends", everyone noted his familiarity with the apartment. Where all the utensils were, how Gabby liked her coffee and where she kept it, helped himself to the fridge for a Coke—which Gabby hated most sodas, Coke included, so how'd he even know it would be in there?—and a few other things. Everyone noticed that he even had a spare set of clothes here. Gabby didn't bat an eye at the obvious intimacy on display at Spencer's utter at-home-ness.

The people that came with Spencer, then humbled by Gabby, were invited to stay but it was only an older man called Gideon that stayed.

The games started by that point.

"Spencer, no cheating," Gabby replied in a sing-song voice halfway through Clue.

He watched as they shared looks as if they had this conversation before, and Mike suddenly felt very out of place. Cynthia and Jenna—the other college friend—only watched in amusement.

He didn't remember much after that, just that he shelled out ten bucks to Jenna for a bet he didn't remember making.

So maybe he lied, maybe he didn't almost have her, but someone definitely did and neither of them could see it.

   ───────✧❁✧───────

Something that drove it home was the day they got together.

She won a talent show at college, apparently she still "got it" in terms of her martial arts. He was proud of her—they all were. But he knew the plastic gold medal was barely a comfort as the news kept coming and as the bean pole never showed.

He was busy steaming the milk for a latte when the bell over the door rang. He paid no attention, but she shot out from behind the counter. Mike imagined her smile as the bean pole got tackled.

He made the mistake of looking up, and saw how gingerly she tended to him. She spoke softly, going on and on about how she was worried and how she prayed. Even after he left, she still stayed in front of the television?

And he smiled at her—that bean pole smiled at her! And they seemed like they flowed so effortlessly around each other. He felt his chest contort and tried not to feel relief when Mark told her to get back to work. But then she just made two coffees, clocked out, paid—Mike told her she'd get fired and she didn't care.

The singing was the worst.

Scratch that. The dancing was the worst. Because he could feel it in the air—everything shifted. They'd be together by the end of the day, he knew it...

And it sucked.

   ───────✧❁✧───────

I almost held up a grocery store where I almost did five years and then seven more. 'Cause I almost got popped for a fight with a thug. 'Cause he almost made off with a bunch of the drugs that I almost got hooked on 'cause you ran away... And I wish I woulda had the nerve to ask you to stay.

And I almost had you, but I guess that doesn't cut it. Almost had you and I didn't even know it.

No, he did not almost go to jail for a fight with a thug over drugs in a grocery store. But, he did go to jail for a night for "unruly" behavior—i.e. his dad was pissed that he got into a bar fight and accidentally broke a window.

It started out kinda like this:

Gabby jumped on stage in a fancy dress. It was pink, a bright pink, and her hair was done up like she was in a John Hughes movie. He didn't know why she was there, or why she was dressed like that, but she looked pretty, especially with the neon lights from all the signs dancing around her.

"Spencer, c'mon!" She called and pulled him up on stage. He was still tall and bean-like. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous mirth you could see across the room, Mike knew she was planning something.

Apparently, so did Spencer because he leaned down to whisper something in her ear and she grinned. "I promise, Doctor Reid," it was said in a tone that assured him of something memorable, but probably not advisable.

Then the bean pole hopped off stage to watch her from the crowd.

They were three months into dating at this point, if Mike's memory served him right.

Mike watched as she turned to the band and they all nodded. He didn't know it was open mic night. Someone came up to him when Gabby started speaking. They said, "She's a pretty little bird."

"Yeah," Mike replied. He sounded off to his own ears. Perhaps a bit slow in responding, maybe only a little slurred. He was on his second bottle of beer though. Guess he was a bit more of a lightweight than he remembered.

The guy smirked.

He didn't remember what was said next, but suddenly Mike was throwing a punch square into the older man's jaw.

Everything blurred together at that point. Mike remembered the bean pole coming down with Gabby in tow to say hi. Mike vaguely remembered that he threw a punch in the bean pole's direction. He couldn't tell you if it was on purpose or not, but he'd bet it was a mix of accidentally on-purpose. The older man seemed to have had the same idea with the punch and the bean pole.

"Spencer, look out!" Gabby cried as she pulled her boyfriend out of the line of fire. Mike watched as the two fell into the booth behind them.

Spencer's hair fell into his face and it made Mike angrier. It fell in that perfect messy way that no actual human could pull off. His smile goofy and relieved at the same time as he looked at Gabby. "Thanks," he said as he tried to push the hair out of his face.

Why did that white suit look so terrible on him?

Why did those two look so good together?

Why—oops! The older man was swinging again. Glasses shattered and a chorus of "fight!" chanted around them. Then Mike picked up a bar stool and threw it at the guy, who ducked and then crash!

There went the aforementioned window.

Then Gabby got pissed. All he recalled from that was English and Spanish curse words and being told to "Sit the hell down before I make you".

From there, things got fuzzy and he woke up in jail the next morning with his dad, the deputy, staring at him in disappointment.

Awe shit.

   ───────✧❁✧───────

You kept me guessing and now I guess that I spent my time missing you... I almost wish you would've loved me too

Here I go thinking about all the things I could've done. I'm gonna need a forklift 'cause all the baggage weighs a ton! I know we've had our problems I can't remember one...

"You're an idiot, plain and simple," Hannah told him with multiple hand gestures to display her frustration.

"Why?"

"Because you spent the better part of a fucking year pining for a girl who never showed interest in you that way!" Hannah exclaimed as she steamed the milk for a cappuccino. Her red hair seemed to be flaring to life and her volume did nothing for the killer headache he had.

"But—"

Her brown eyes narrowed at him. "Let me tell you this, before she admitted it to herself, we all knew she liked Spencer right?"

"We knew from day one—"

"Yes! She made it extremely obvious without realizing. They were practically living together for months before they got together. She freaked out whenever the FBI was on the news in fear for his safety! She loves him."

"But—"

"Let me finish!" Hannah exclaimed. At this point the entire coffee shop was looking at them. "She cares about you, she loves you even. But you never had a chance. You could've spent that time doing something constructive with your life and instead you get drunk and spend a night in jail and have to work off a window repair. Let her go."

   ───────✧❁✧───────

Mike looked at the journal and sighed. All of the feelings, all of the memories written down on the page. He glanced at the fire and then threw the book in it. Time to let it all go.

   ───────✧❁✧───────

I almost forgot to say something else, and if I cant fit it in I'll keep it all to myself. I almost wrote a song about you today then I tore it all up and then I threw it away!

And I almost had you, but I guess that doesn't cut it. Almost had you, and I didn't even know it.

You kept me guessing and now I guess that I spent my time missing you. And I almost had you...

I almost wish you would've loved me too

[beanie-beebo-writes]

It follows

Series Summary: Reader is running from financial problems and his/her studies, will they catch up with him/her? Charlie's close friends (none other than Sam and Dean) go to check up on the reader due to Charlie becoming worried for him/her. Trouble pursues, as the reader wants to keep silent about his/her struggles.

Warnings: None

Masterlist

Chapter 14

Dean focused intently on driving down city side-streets, just in case if the creature back there decided to trail after them. He was bewildered, and honestly didn't know what to think, but he tried not to get too lost in thought as he sped to the motel. Hell, he was lucky he wasn't a midnight snack, based on the way it tried to ravish both Dean and itself.. For a good couple of minutes, the drive was silent, except for the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and an occasional thought passing through your mind.

"What exactly happened back there?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, I really don't. But whatever we are hunting, it is not a werewolf." Dean replied.

"Did you see what it was?" You asked curiously.

"That's the thing, I did, but, it wasn't anything I've seen before." Dean said.

You and Sam stared at Dean, hoping the discomfort would force him to continue explaining. As you expected, he glanced from the road, back at both of you.

"What?!" He finally asked.

"What did it look like?" Sam inquired.

"Well, it was in the form of this beautiful woman. It looked normal, at least until I slashed it with the silver knife; which had no effect on it, by the way. And it used some sort of power, healing the wound instantly. Not like angel mojo, but… I don't know." Dean explained.

"Anything else?" You asked, feeling like he was holding back.

"Um… well, it's like she put a spell on me." Dean admitted.

"And you didn't bother to tell us?!" Sam asked.

"I thought it was nothing, but I suppose now it could be important." Dean said.

"What did she specifically do to you?" Sam asked.

"I don't really know, to be honest.. It was like she was.. irresistible, and I couldn't control Mr. General-"

"Please don't tell me you..." Sam began to interrupt.

"God Sam, no, I didn't go down on her. At least, I wasn't going to, not until she started biting my neck." Dean said.

Sam massaged the bridge of his nose. "You could have spared the details, you know." He said in disgust.

"No, like, she was actually trying to feed on me, it was weird." Dean explained.

Both you and Sam looked in confusion at the elder Winchester; you hadn't even heard of this in the books.

"I guess it isn't a wolf." You mumbled audibly.

"Ya think?" Dean retorted.

"But that leaves us with one big question.. What is it then?" Sam asked aloud.

Silence filled the car once again as you all pondered deeply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as you got back into the motel room, you all instantly hit the books, having no idea where to even start. You weren't really too skilled at this type of research, but you used what you knew from the series, hoping it would suffice. The first topic you figured you could start on, was a shapeshifter, but you instantly hit another dead end, since shifters weren't immune to silver. Your only resort now was anything that ate their prey.

"Could it be a rugaru?" You asked, reading into the lore.

"I don't think so," Dean said, "at least not like any I have ever seen. That thing had complete control, you should have seen it."

Sam cleared his throat briefly. "Maybe it had its urges under control?" Sam guessed.

"Maybe, but it seemed completely human to me, except for the feeding part. No wrinkling skin or black eyes… All normal. There was something about her face though, and I can't put my finger on it." Dean said.

"What about it?" You asked.

"It had a familiar aspect to it, like I've seen the features before."

"Like you knew her?" You asked.

"No, like I've seen similar facial features somewhere before, but I can't remember exactly where." Dean said.

"What were the facial features like?" Sam asked.

"She had a long pointed face..." Dean recalled.

"Like a stereotypical witch?" Sam asked with a chuckle.

"No," You responded, typing away on the extra laptop, "like a fox."

"There it is," Dean said with recognition, "how did you guess?"

"I've watched some interesting cartoons in the nineties." You responded with a smirk.

Dean looked at you with confusion and then to his brother, shrugging when they both didn't get the reference. You clicked on the first link that popped up, since it seemed remotely along the lines of the Winchester business.

"A Kumiho?" Dean asked, reading the title of the webpage.

"Yeah, it says here that it roughly translates to 'nine-tailed fox'." You stated.

Dean hummed in response, peering over your shoulder.

"Common lore says it transforms freely; many say that it turns into a woman, to seduce prey."

You all raised your eyebrows at the last statement and instantly looked at one another.

"This makes total sense," Dean said, "(Y/N), you're a genius!"

You blushed. "I mean, not really.." You replied.

"Are you kidding? It would have taken me and Sammy a good hour or so to crack this, and I think it's only been forty minutes. That's incredible!" Dean exclaimed.

"Thanks." You beamed quietly.

"Yeah, good work (Y/N)." Sam agreed, returning the smile.

Suddenly, the police scanner on Sam's computer popped up without warning, almost sending you to the floor. A male voice roughly came through the small speakers, ordering a squad to dispatch to East Morgan Street, near State Road 931. The attacker was unclear, but a young boy was both badly injured and traumatized by something the officer couldn't exactly place reason on.

"Alright, I definitely feel we should check this one out. It's likely what we're after." Sam said, standing up from his small work space.

"What have we got to lose?" Dean said.

The three of you quickly got into your federal attire and headed out to the general address provided. In a short amount of time you arrived to the scene. Multiple cop cars, and fire rescue squads were swarmed about, flooding the dark, desolate street with flashing lights. You adjusted your 'badge' and made your way to the police car in the center of the scene. A middle-aged cop stood on the side with a small group from the squad, who seemed to be discussing what he came across when he found the boy. The rest of the two teams attended to the boy on the back of an ambulance, addressing his wounds and occasionally asking him questions. You and Dean headed over to the officer, while Sam took to the boy. Your anxiety perked slightly, but you acted as nonchalant as possible, to try and not draw attention.

"Excuse me," Dean said, grabbing the group's attention, "I'm Agent Ford, this is my partner, Agent Griffith, would you care to explain the situation?"

"FBI? Why would you guys be interested in this? Isn't it a little early?" The middle-aged officer asked.

"We've been pinging these types of cases for a brief while, and we think it's the work of a specific killer, we picked this up on the radar." You responded confidently.

"Alright, that sounds reasonable." The officer said to you. "Tend to the scene guys, I've got this one." He said to his colleagues.

After his colleagues dispersed, you instantly asked for details on what had occurred not long before he sent out the alert on the scanner.

"It's weird, I was driving down here, patrolling the park for the evening shift, when this young boy ran straight in front of my car. Luckily, I wasn't going the speed limit, or both of us would have been roadkill. He came right out of the brush over there, and it looked like he got attacked by some wild animal or something. I got out of the car, and asked him what was wrong, and he just pointed to where he ran from. There was a woman, just standing inside the entrance of the woods, staring at us. I shone my flashlight, and she took off running. I couldn't leave the boy, so I called for backup." The officer said.

"Did he ever say what gave him those bites?" Dean asked.

"That's the thing, he said it was the woman." He replied with uneasiness.

"Did you have anyone go after her?" You asked.

"Some of the squad scoured the area, but they couldn't find anyone. Like I said, it was weird." He answered.

"What did the woman look like, officer.." Dean trailed off, gesturing to the cop.

"Mavin, sorry." He finished. "She was thin, her hair was infused with a natural red and a few other natural-born colors. Her face came to a point at the chin, and her nose was small but longer in length… Almost like.."

"A fox?" You said.

"Yeah..exactly! How did you know?" Marvin asked.

"Just intuition." You said.

"And you haven't seen her since?" Dean asked.

"No, thankfully. She had a weird vibe to her. But we have definitely on the lookout." He said.

"Thank you for your time, Officer Mavin." You said.

As you finished conversing with the officer, you saw Sam had already walked back from the ambulance, talking with another officer. He broke off the conversation as he saw you two walking up.

"What did you find?" Sam asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Looks like this coincides with the case," Dean replied, "The officer matched the attacker to a 'T'. It was the same thing that attacked me."

"That's promising; you know what the kid just told me? The lady lured him in, probably just like the other victims. Remember how Brayden's sister said that a woman was trailing her brother before he died? I think that's what has been happening with all of the victims." Sam said.

"I think you're right, but do you think we could take this back to the car or something? Cops make me uneasy." You admitted quietly.

The boys looked at you with understanding and agreed to your reasonable request. Without drawing much attention, you all went back to the beloved car to discuss what would happen next. But just before you hopped into the back seat, you could have sworn you saw two eyes glaring at you in the distance.

[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 14

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Strange finishes his tests, and you reunite with Davin. All seems well, so why is Bucky so clearly avoiding your eye?

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by @araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Body horror, spooky scary demons, angst, Bucky making me sad

Word Count: 3.4k

AO3

You waited for the verdict on metaphorical pins and needles. Literal pins and needles had been involved in the wizard’s “tests.”

They hadn’t even broken the skin or made you bleed, but every time they’d neared you, you’d fought the urge to bolt like a deer.

You were bad—Bucky had been worse. Strange had asked on more than one occasion if he needed to leave the room, and each time Bucky had gritted out an emphatic no while pacing the room like a restless predator. Not one that was hunting you, the proverbial deer, but his presence was still distracting for… well, quite a number of reasons.

Two hours. Two hours of being instructed to peer through strange spectacles, focus your mind on irregular shaped stones, or lay your hand on a metal orb that made your palm tingle. It was a sensation that threw your thoughts back to the creepy book in the basement. Your skin crawled.

Please, you silently prayed to whoever would hear you. Please don’t let them find anything. Especially not the mark. Anything but that.

Once Strange appeared to finish his tests, most of which had been more tedious than uncomfortable, he leaned a hip against his desk and rubbed his goatee, lost in thought.

You couldn’t wait any longer.

“Well?”

“Hmm?” He raised his head, the distance in his eyes honing into a focused stare.

“Are you done?” You tried not to fidget as you asked. Failed.

He blinked, as if remembering you were there.

“Oh, yes. Quite finished. You’re perfectly ordinary.”

He spoke the words with a casual cadence as if reciting the weather. Ordinary skies today, no chance of thunderstorms or magical potential.

“I’m normal,” you repeated like the world’s slowest parrot.

“In a magical sense, yes. I can’t speak in terms of your personal situation, but as far as I can tell, you are energetically inert.”

You didn’t know what the hell that meant, but it sounded a lot better than portal-wielding-demon-magnet. You weren’t disappointed. You weren’t. A selfish part of you hadn’t wanted your own you’re a wizard, Harry moment. Not at all.

You chanced a quick glance upwards and to your right. Bucky was standing next to your chair, his arms crossed and his lips formed into a slight pout as he stared at Strange. He didn’t seem at all relieved by the good news.

“Does that mean I can go?” you asked, sitting straighter in your chair.

“Yes.” Strange’s tone was even but his expression was oddly closed. “You can depart whenever you wish.”

You rose to your feet, ready to not spend a minute more in that place when the door to his office opened without a knock. Wong stood on the threshold, his frown grave. Unhelpful to use as a gauge, given that you suspected it was his default expression.

“We’re ready.”

“Excellent.” Strange pushed himself up from the desk, straightened the collar of his cape, and made a motion toward the door. “I assume you still wish to watch the ritual?”

Oh. Right. You’d completely forgotten about Davin. Guilt wiggled through your stomach like a worm through a rotten apple.

“Yeah. Yes, I mean. I do.”

He made the same motion toward the door and you followed it, your fists stiff at your side as you followed Wong out into the hallway. You could breathe a little easier now, knowing you would no longer be trapped as a long-term “guest,” but you wouldn’t truly shake off the feeling of dread until you had stepped back out onto the street. Or hell, better yet, back in your apartment.

The wizards may have helped you, and Bucky seemed to be allied with them, but that didn’t mean you trusted them. Plus, you really had meant it when you’d said you had a life to get back to. Being a captive in a magician’s place in Greenwich Village was not your idea of a relaxing holiday.

You had to go home and find out how much trouble you were in with the landlord; you hadn’t even begun to think about Davin and the thing inside of him—

A warm presence at your back scattered your anxious thoughts and the tension in your muscles began to leech away. Bucky was close behind you. You didn’t even have to look to know it was true, no more than you needed to open your eyes to recognize the warmth of the sun on your face.

You wished you could talk to him, but more than anything else, you wanted him to hold you again. Wrap his arms around you and murmur reassurances into your hair, telling you everything would be all right even if it wasn’t true.

Your wish went depressingly unfulfilled as Wong led you to a thick door made of iron. Remembering the last dungeon-like door you had walked through, your knees locked and your feet remained solidly on the floor. Bucky’s solid weight bumped into you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, in all appearances meant to steady you, but his fingers gave a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

A small gesture, too tiny for anyone else to see, meant only for you. It gave you the courage to walk through the door.

The room beyond was as grim as you’d fear it would be. There were no electronics or modern equipment that you could see. Instead, there were braziers along the walls, candelabras hanging from the ceiling, and glyphs carved into the walls.

What awaited you in the middle of the room made the surroundings seem like a cheery garden party. A grey stone slab, roughly at hip-height and seven feet in length, dominated the space. Davin lay upon its surface, thick straps across his shins, thighs, hips, and chest holding him in place. His wrists were bound by a second set of straps that were tied to the restraints across his waist.

He was focused on the wizards as they filed into the room, but once you were within sight of the altar, his gaze fixated immediately on your face. His brows furrowed as his eyes blazed into a hateful glare, his arms flexing as he struggled against his unyielding restraints.

There was no noise aside from the sound of leather chaffing against skin and clothing. Not even muffled protests arose from behind the cloth covering his mouth. It looked almost like a surgeon’s mask, a deep red color with a golden glyph drawn across its surface.

There was only you, Bucky, and the two wizards in the room. That made you feel slightly better. You weren’t sure if you could handle a whole gathering of hooded figures, looming over your coworker as if he was a sacrificial lamb about to be offered up to a vengeful deity.

You half expected daggers to be wielded, glowing with ritualistic glyphs, but the wizards’ hands remained empty. You suspected that didn’t mean much.

Strange stood at Davin’s head while Wong took up position to the right. Bucky was at your side, apparently not needing to take part in the exorcism, which began with the wizards making intricate shapes over the slab with their hands. Concentric orange circles formed in the air, filling the space with their unnatural luminescence.

Davin, or rather, the demon inside him, bucked against the straps, violently tossing his head in silent protest. The wizards paid him no mind, the shapes in the air growing brighter as the smell of ozone thickened the air and made it hard to take a full breath.

Strange and Wong weren’t paying you any attention either, too distracted to notice as Bucky slipped his arm around your waist, tucking you securely against his side. His eyes remained forward, the muscles in his jaw clenched and thrown into relief from the orange light painting his features, but his hold was firm and unrelenting.

Too afraid the wizards would see you wrap your own arm around him, you instead pressed your hand into the edge of his jacket, fisting the material tightly. He was the only thing grounding you in such a surreal, terrifying moment, and you couldn’t begin to imagine getting through this without his steady presence.

The exorcism itself, thank Christ, was short. Or, relatively short. It lasted maybe thirty seconds to a minute at most, but having to watch Davin silently squirm and writhe tied to a stone slab made the experience seem much, much longer.

“Ready?” Strange had his hands poised, one above Davin’s forehead and the other above his heart, the vibrant orange glyphs floating in front of his fingertips.

“Ready,” Wong answered. His own glyphs vanished as he picked up a jar you hadn’t noticed from the floor. Moving as if he was about to handle a live wire, Wong grabbed one end of the mask and quickly pulled it from Davin’s face.

The sound that erupted from his mouth was shrill, high-pitched, and inhuman, quickly cut off as Wong placed the opening of the jar over his mouth.

Davin’s body gave one final lurch, his back arching as something was expelled from his mouth. A long, segmented yellow appendage you now recognized as the heigore. It was pulled up into the jar as if it was reverse-gravity, coiling at the top just as neatly as a pile of especially ugly rope.

The end of the heigore barely passed the lip of the jar before Wong pulled it from Davin’s face and covered the opening with another glowing glyph. He wiped his forearm across his sweaty forehead, and Strange looked similarly tired as he let the concentric circles sizzle from his fingertips.

It was over.

Or… nearly over. Bucky removed his arm from around your waist and you immediately let go of his jacket. Biting your lip in nervous habit, you watched as Wong approached him with the jar.

“All yours,” Wong said, holding it out to him. Curious, you walked slowly forward, watching in sudden alarm as Wong waved away the glyphs.

Sensing its freedom, the heigore launched itself from the jar—right into Bucky’s iron grip. His demonic fist had a stranglehold around the parasite, pulling its entire body from the jar with one swift movement.

It was a pathetic sight within Bucky’s serrated grasp. A thorny, overgrown parasite only two feet in length. That’s all it really was outside of a host. A helpless tapeworm.

It coiled around Bucky’s forearm like a snake, squeezing uselessly at the armored plates. Its thorny surface puffed up, blades unsheathing from the thorns, and you clutched at your throat reflexively. You knew exactly what those blades felt like tearing into human flesh.

Bucky didn’t so much as flinch, his eyes hard as he glared down at the creature, one corner of his lip pulled back in a grimace of disgust.

And then, he began to squeeze. You couldn’t look away, morbidly fascinated as the demon sensed the danger it was in, uncoiling from Bucky’s arm to try and escape. It flailed and writhed, twitching in the air, but there was no escape. Not from that iron grip. Those claws, a moment ago gently pressing into your side, now dug into the demon with murderous intent.

The heigore gave one last shudder, a tremble rippling throughout its sinuous length before it began to burn. Like a fuse being ignited from both ends, its head and tail caught flame, the heat blazing through it so quickly it was over within seconds. The flaming parasite collapsed into ash and fizzled into black smoke, flooding the room with a sickening, familiar stench.

Your bedroom. That night. A flash, a screech, and the smell of sulfur. You understood what it was now: Bucky, banishing other demons to wherever it was they came from.

There were so many questions you still needed answering, but all of your curiosity died as you looked to the stone slab.

Davin, eyes wide and alert and terrified, had watched the whole thing. It was that lucid panic on his face, the knowledge that there was no doubt this was Davin, made you finally move.

“You shouldn’t—“

Whatever Strange was going to say was lost as you rushed forward to the stone slab, your hands gripping the edge as you spoke his name in a tight voice.

“Davin?”

He swallowed and nodded, his voice painfully hoarse. “Is it… is it gone? Really gone?”

He was still strapped tight to the surface, but there was enough room for you to slip your hand through the restraints, curling your palm around his clenched fist.

“It’s gone,” you affirmed, squeezing his hand. “It’s over.”

It didn’t matter what the heigore had made him do to you. It didn’t matter that you’d never been that close. Right now, he was a human being caught up in the terrifying world of magic and demons, and you knew what a terrifying thing that was.

His bottom lip trembled, his eyes glassy as he seemed on the verge of breaking. You tried to open his clenched fist with a measured gentleness, and he allowed your fingers to slip through. You squeezed his hand and the haunted look in his eyes wasn’t as present as it had been a moment before. You even thought you saw relief there.

Someone cleared their throat and you looked over your shoulder to find three pairs of eyes staring at you. Strange wore a small but genuine smile. Wong’s raised eyebrows had made a reappearance.

And Bucky… wouldn’t even meet your eye.

A sensation sunk in your chest, like someone had pulled the plug and something warm and vital was draining out.

“I’m sure you’re eager to put this business behind you,” Strange said, stepping forward. With a flick of his wrist, the restraints all unbuckled at once, leaving Davin free to sit up. He did so, slowly and carefully, rubbing the base of his throat in a way that was a mirror image to your earlier gesture.

Strange nodded to Davin but his gaze also flicked to you. “We’re going to examine you one last time to make sure you are unharmed, and then… you may both go home.”

You blinked. Already? Now that the moment was here, you felt strangely… unsteady. Like you weren’t on solid ground anymore. How were you supposed to move on with your life after this?

One step at a time. And the first step was you leaving the room, guided by Wong as he explained they needed privacy. They being Davin, Strange, and Bucky, though you couldn’t imagine what he had to do with the examination. Maybe he needed to check no trace of the demon remained. All things considered, there was still so much you didn’t know about Bucky.

You planned to rectify that as soon as possible. It was long overdue.

The examination was only a few minutes, during which time you lingered at the bottom of a staircase. This area of the sanctum was much more somber, dark wood and faded teal wallpaper and carpets. The top of the grand staircase split in two, leading around the tall antechamber deeper into the sanctum.

Beyond the front of the staircase were two large doors that you just knew led to the outside world.

Freedom. So close, yet still out of reach.

“Don’t touch that.”

You jerked away from the aged bronze structure you’d been leaning against, shooting Wong a guilty look. Before you could apologize, footsteps against carpet runners drew your attention to the staircase, your eye lightening when your gaze fell on Bucky.

The tension around his eyes and the grim set of his mouth halted your smile before it could form. Davin stood next to him once they reached the bottom of the stairs, his face pale as his gaze kept flickering from the floor to Bucky.

Before you could even begin to figure out what was going on there, Strange said, “All appears to be well.” He seemed to be the only one of the group who wasn’t a bundle of frayed nerves. “You both are free to leave.”

“W-wait,” you stuttered, drawing the wizard’s attention. “What about my clothes? And I need to find Monster—“

“The hobgoblin will find its way home, if it’s not there already, and your clothes have been sent ahead of you.”

“Oh.” You looked to Bucky, seeking some kind of acknowledgement, but he remained silent, gaze hovering near your shoulder.

As if you weren’t feeling unsteady enough, now Bucky wouldn’t even meet your eye.

“We shall be monitoring you both, just in case there were any other demonic entities involved.” Wong peered toward Bucky, expressionless. “Sergeant Barnes will be in contact to ascertain all demonic activity has ceased, but should either of you run into anymore strange occurrences, contact us immediately.”

You turned to Wong and frowned. “But my phone was—“

The bald wizard drew out an object from his robes and held it out to you. It was your phone, pristine and whole as if the demon had never snapped it in half.

You took it with numb fingers, your thoughts equally stalled. You slipped your phone into the pocket of the robe you were still wearing, not knowing what else to say. It seemed the wizards had thought of everything.

“Shall we?”

You looked up just as Strange extended both of his hands and drew a circle with his arm. The fiery orange circle appeared in sync with his movements, the sphere large enough to step through as sparks splattered through the air, landing on the hardwood floor and skittering away.

A clear image of your living room appeared within its depths, just as pristine and unruined as your phone had been.

You looked to Strange, then Wong, and finally Bucky. Suddenly… you weren’t ready. All you’d wanted to do was go home, but now it took all of your willpower not to step back from the portal and beg them to let you stay.

If you left, if you went back to your life, then you’d have to face the consequences of everything that had happened. You’d have to acknowledge it was real.

And then you caught Davin’s eye. He was looking at the portal, the hollowness in his eyes gone as he stared with wonder and longing. You weren’t the only one to survive a harrowing experience.

“Ready?” you asked, voice pitching to a soft decibel. Davin dragged his gaze reluctantly from the portal to your face, the fiery ring reflecting in his eyes. He gave a quick nod, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Between the two of you, you’d been the most conscious during the last journey by portal. You took a step closer and tried not to flinch as sparks danced across the carpet in front of your slippers.

You assumed it was safe. Hoped it was safe. Otherwise, Bucky wouldn’t let you go.

…right?

Before you stepped through, you glanced over your shoulder, searching out a pair of pale blue eyes. You found them staring back at you, hard and troubled, and they flicked between you and Davin with an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint.

Before you could determine what it was, Bucky dropped his eyes again, his crossed arms tight across his chest. Everything about his body language was uncomfortable and tense, conveying a desire to be anywhere but there.

It did nothing to soothe your own anxiety but you’d already stalled too long; the two wizards were watching you expectantly. You turned back to the portal, trying not to feel like a child about to step onto a stage for the school’s talent show. Only instead of humiliation, you faced being burned by a literal ring of fire.

With an encouraging nod aimed at your coworker, you stepped forward through the magical wormhole, your slippers landing on the low pile carpet of your living room.

No burning smell flesh, no fiery pain, just a brief flush of warmth across your skin before you were on the other side.

Davin stepped through just behind you, and with a sharp fizzle, the portal closed in on itself with a last flicker of sparks.

It’s over. That’s what you had told Davin. It’s what you had told yourself, too.

How wrong you were.

Next Chapter

[olko71]

New Post has been published on All about business online

New Post has been published on http://yaroreviews.info/2021/04/snarled-supply-chain-trips-up-small-businesses

Snarled Supply Chain Trips Up Small Businesses

An Oklahoma restaurant is paying nearly $200 for a case of gloves that normally costs $40. A medical-device maker in Colorado is tweaking the way it manufactures its products to offset higher plastic costs. A clothing wholesaler in Michigan has hundreds of hoodies it has yet to sell because winter was over by the time they arrived from Bangladesh.

The supply-chain disruptions rippling across the business world are taking a heavy toll on small U.S. companies, which have fewer resources to absorb or push back on price increases and less leverage to pass along the higher costs to customers.

Forty-four percent of small businesses reported temporary shortages or other supply-chain problems in March, according to a survey of roughly 800 companies by Vistage Worldwide Inc., a business advisory firm. A U.S. Census Bureau survey of small businesses, completed in early April, found supply-chain disruptions in wholesale trade, manufacturing and construction, among others.

Multiple forces are driving supply-chain woes, from coronavirus infections among employees and temporary business closures to increased demand as vaccines take hold and restrictions ease. A backlog at California ports, the temporary closure of the Suez Canal and weather-related problems have created additional challenges. Smaller companies typically have less sophisticated purchasing departments than larger corporations.

Staffing problems at freight depots have delayed shipments of Sealstrip’s tape products.

Nitrile gloves have been particularly hard to come by for Evan Kelamis, owner of Savoy, a Tulsa, Okla., restaurant with 35 employees. Some restaurant suppliers no longer stock the gloves; a case of 1,000 that sold for $40 before the pandemic now fetches as much as $185—if you can even buy them.

Mr. Kelamis says buying from local vendors and stockpiling has helped Savoy navigate shortages of pork, chicken and beef. He worries demand for bacon and other ingredients will jump as more restaurants reopen. “Seventy percent of bacon consumption is in a restaurant setting,” he said. “It’s one of the concerns we are preparing for.”

The current mismatch between supply and demand is a sharp turnabout for some companies. Resin distributor PolySource LLC had plenty to sell a year ago, said Grant John, chief executive of the Independence, Mo.-based company. “This year, you have the opposite,” he said.

PolySource, which sources half its products from North America and the rest from Asia, has created a color-coded guide to wait times for materials and substitute materials to help its 23-person workforce meet customers’ needs.

An average of 30 container ships a day have been stuck outside the Ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach just waiting to deliver their goods. The backlog is part of a global supply-chain mess spurred by the pandemic that means consumers could see delivery delays for weeks. Photo Composite: Adam Falk/The Wall Street Journal

Prices have jumped for many in-demand materials. “If a steel supplier has even a little supply, they are raising prices knowing it will be difficult for them to replenish their stock,” said Matt Erfman, chief executive of Dakotaland Manufacturing, a Sioux Falls, S.D., contract metal manufacturer with about 150 employees. “It’s almost a straight-upward trajectory.”

Suppliers recently quoted Dakotaland a price of $1.10 a pound for 4-by-3-inch steel tubing that sold for 45 cents a pound last summer, said Mr. Erfman.

Dakotaland’s contracts allow it to pass along increased costs quarterly to major customers, but delays in raising prices have squeezed profit margins. “Hopefully, it washes out when things turn the other way,” Mr. Erfman said. “At this point, we don’t know when that might be.”

Sealstrip President Heather Chandler at company headquarters in Gilbertsville, Pa.

Sealstrip Corp., a Gilbertsville, Pa., maker of packaging products, has struggled to find steel storage drums and resins for manufacturing plastic films used in flexible packaging. Larger suppliers have boosted prices; some have invoked force majeure clauses that let them exit contracts due to unforeseen circumstances. Even wooden pallets for shipping are hard to find.

The cost of lumber to build crates and pallets has climbed by 50% to 100%, said Heather Chandler, president of the 40-person company, which sells resealable tape, machinery and other packaging supplies to big consumer-products companies.

“One of the biggest challenges of being a small company is we buy from billion-dollar companies and sell to billion-dollar companies,” making it difficult to fend off price increases or pass them on to customers, she said.

Transportation backlogs add to the headaches. It recently took five days for a pallet of adhesive tape to travel from Sealstrip’s Gilbertsville factory to a customer’s facility, about a two-hour drive away. “Things are sitting in freight depots because they are short on staff,” Ms. Chandler said.

Delays can be particularly troublesome for small businesses selling seasonal goods. B&S Activewear LLC, a Warren, Mich., clothing wholesaler, was still receiving shipments of zip-up hoodies and other winter apparel from Bangladesh in April, roughly two months later than expected.

Sealstrip has faced shortages of resin used in some of its plastic packaging—and even wooden pallets.

B&S has tried to speed up delivery by shipping goods via UPS Air Freight, at a cost of $8,000 for 72 boxes of T-shirts, more than 10 times the cost of sending the same items by boat. The year-old company sold most of the apparel at break-even after a prospective customer rejected the goods due to the delay, said Steven Gasparovic, the company’s director of U.S. operations.

Though smaller companies may have less sophisticated purchasing departments, they can sometimes be more agile.

MedSafety Solutions, a Centennial, Colo., maker of medical devices, began re-engineering its processes to reduce costs after supply shortages fueled cost increases of 10% or more for plastics used in the manufacture of needle products. “We are using investment dollars to improve efficiencies,” said Steve van Engen, chief executive of the 14-person company.

A Sealstrip employee worked at a slitter machine on Tuesday.

Other small companies are boosting inventory. After the 2020 hurricane season, assembly company Automation Systems LLC ordered an extra 20,000 pounds of plastic pellets, normally enough to last the Melrose Park, Ill., company nine months. One month later, prices surged due to the Texas freeze.

“They were jacking prices through the roof,” owner Carl Schanstra said. “I did it as a stability measure.” Mr. Schanstra has also placed blanket orders for steel, foam and other materials as much as 12 months ahead, instead of a more typical lead time of six months. Ordering early allows the 45-person company to lock in supply, but leaves little room to fine-tune orders or address concerns.

Global Supply Chain Woes

Write to Ruth Simon at ruth.simon@wsj.com and Dave Sebastian at dave.sebastian@wsj.com

Copyright ©2020 Dow Jones & Company, Inc. All Rights Reserved. 87990cbe856818d5eddac44c7b1cdeb8

[theartofbeinganeldar]

The Art of Being an Eldar: Legolas x Reader Chapter 2

Summary: You're a fantasy-loving, LARPing human from this world, who's the black sheep of society because of your obsession for the unreal and alienation of what's real. When you're in the middle of a LARP battle with some pretty phony boars, you fall out of a tree and bust your head. You wake up, alone, and are suddenly attacked by some very pissed-off, very real wargs. Without any idea of how you got there, you got dropped into Middle-Earth, with only bits and pieces of memories of Tolkien's masterpiece, though your recollection of everything else is perfectly clear. And of all places in Middle-Earth, you got dropped into Mirkwood, with some suspicious, potentially hostile, Woodland Elves...

Chapter No.: Chapter 1

Key: [Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color

Notes: Listen to Medieval Pagan Music, Runestones when reading this chapter.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused,  Denethor's a bitch as always, Boromir lives, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Worm Tongue Grima Wormtongue, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me)

Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Thorin x OC, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely

Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words.

Rating: Teen (14+) for now

When I said I hated reality, I didn't mean I wanted to be ripped from it without my family.

How they'd healed you so efficiently was beyond your comprehension, and nobody came to visit you. You couldn't bring yourself to eat much of what they brought you. To think you'd finally gotten your wish, you'd finally, somehow gotten sucked into some alternate reality where fiction was fact and what you'd known and lived in for your entire life was nonexistent... It was amazing. Surreal.

But you couldn't stay here. Not without your family. Not without your mom, not without [B/N], not without [S/N]. [F/N]... You wished you could've at least said goodbye to him. Life without the only people you'd ever had seemed unreal, incomprehensible, and too nightmarish. Too... Alone. You couldn't lose them.

For hours, you waited, pacing the ten-by-ten cell furiously. You had to find some way to get out, some way to find whatever portal you'd triggered... A sound at the barred door made you freeze in place, whipping around like a meerkat. It was Blue-Eyes, and some of his guards, one of which was unlocking the door. "Are you letting me go?"

Blue-Eyes stared at you as if trying to figure out whether or not you were desperate or stupid. Finally, he shook his head, probably deciding it was most likely both in your case. Well, screw him. "My father wishes to see you."

You glanced to each of the guards that came to grip either of your arms. "Is that... Bad?"

Blue-Eyes smirked. "It depends on his mood."

You glared at him as the other two Elves ushered you out of the door, onto the precariously thin ledge just outside of the cell. "You're trying to freak me out, aren't you?"

Blue-Eyes didn't answer, but took up the rear of the procession. They lead you to a platform overlooking all of the mazelike bridge-sets of the dungeons, and opened a pair of elaborately crafted doors. You balked, your jaw fell, your eyes widened as far as they'd go, stunned by the view.

The building you'd thought was surrounded by trees? It was a palace-city, which stretched back from the front wall as far as you could see. And it was made entirely of trees. Bridges of wood, twisting trunks, curling pillars of wood holding up a vaultrf ceiling which opened up to the orange-gold canopy, and beyond, the cloudless blue sky. Huge, arched windows with stained glass of amber filled the front wall, framed in wood, every few dozen feet, letting in a golden light that made the entire place seem more surreal than it already was. Leaves fell too slowly here, as if afraid that touching the ground would destroy their fabulousness. Elves inhabited every floor, sailing gracefully around like gorgeous swans that glared down at the sudden ugly duckling in their midst.

You felt tiny.

"This is your home?" You breathed in amazement, going where the guards took you on autopilot as you drank in the magnificent sight. "It's bigger than the town I live in!"

"This is just a small portion of it," Blue-Eyes had a hint of pride in his voice. You glanced over your shoulder to see him taking in the view with a faint smile on his face. "This part is my father's palace. Only nobles and militia reside here."

"It's beautiful..." You surveyed the palace in awe. I'm here. I'm really here! This is where I'm supposed to be! "Do you all have different floors? Is it flameproof? What happens if there's a forest fire? Can you even get forest fires here?"

"Why would you like to know?" Blue-Eyes demanded sharply, all kindness gone just as suddenly as it'd arrived, replaced with obvious suspicion and disdain.

You sighed, and dropped the subject. You wouldn't be finding anything out about this place today. The guards lead you up a short flight of stairs, which stopped at a huge circular pavilion, lined with a different type of guard in silver armor and navy-blue masks covering their lower faces. They stood almost impossibly still, and each carried a deadly spear.

More stairs, curving upward from each side of the pavilion, lead to a massive throne of carved wood. A regal Elf lounged on it, holding a curled wooden staff. He wore silver robes lined on the inside with a deep crimson, and a crown of thin branches styled like an elk's antlers --or maybe a thornbush-- sat atop his head of snow-white hair. Piercing blue eyes watched you from underneath strangely dark (And thick.) brows, but his catlike face was drawn into an unreadable expression.

Blue-Eyes stepped before you and the guards, and put his right arm over his chest, fist resting over his heart, as he bowed at the waist. "My king, we have brought the prisoner."

Inwardly, you winced. What kind of father forced his son to call him 'my king'?

The Elvenking flicked his fingers toward the guards on either side of you. "Leave us."

As they left with barely a clink of armor, Blue-Eyes grabbed you roughly by the shoulder, forcing you to your knees. His grip was like iron. He leaned down to snarl in your ear, "Show respect. His majesty has shown you a great kindness in allowing you to live."

Aw, fuck. You forgot that these guys had healed you. If Lord Fabulous over there had decided that by even so much as breathing near his lands you didn't deserve for your wounds to be healed, you'd be dead right now. "O-oh..." You quickly fixed your position, and even bowed your head with an arm over your chest, like Blue-Eyes had done. "Sorry..."

"My son tells me he found you trying to escape from warg-bound orcs on our northern border," Elvenking drawled slowly. Wargs... Those big dogs... Why does that sound familiar? Were they in a book? Mythology? A game? You couldn't remember, and Elvenking didn't give you time to. "You were found near-death, and without any apparent recollection of how you came to be there. Is that correct?"

You weren't sure how to adress him. "Yes, sir. My lord. Your majesty. I'm sorry."

Elvenking continued. "Would you like to elaborate on what you do remember?"

His tone wasn't kind. It was "Tell me bitch or I will throw you off into the chasms below."

And there were lots of chasms.

"You won't believe me," You started, and risked a glance; Blue-Eyes and Elvenking watched you warily. You could easily say you were from this world, but you didn't know anything about it. You couldn't lie believably. And even if you could, Elves can sense lies. You figured you'd get some extra points if you were totally honest. "But I'll tell you anyway." So you started out with your explanation of coming from a place called Earth, and that you'd been having a battle against some pretty fake boars played by unconvincing actors in Live Action Roleplay, when you'd fallen out of a tree, banged yourself up, and knocked yourself out. You then proceeded to explain about the big dogs and the orcs.

Elvenking lifted his chin slightly for the sole purpose of glowering at you. "Tell me more of this... Earth." You told him all you could. About cars and trains and jets and phones, then on to TVs and movies, and the huge skyscrapers, and how modern slang was different from what it had been, and how where you came from, Elves and orcs and dragons were all part of a genre known as fantasy. You even tried, for a brief period of time, to explain the subject of eMail and social sites like Tumblr and Twitter, but you gave up at their odd looks as they tried to comprehend the concept. You told them about all seven continents, presidents, world leaders, endless wars, hunger, trashing the planet and all other shit that was wrong with Earth.

You could've been there for hours explaining it all. When you were finished, Elvenking regarded you like he'd just came to the conclusion that you just weren't normal. "It seems, [Y/N], that your world is poisoned."

"It is!" You agreed excitedly. "Nobody cares about it anymore! It's why I grew up to be so... Un-normal, by my world's standards."

"I see..." Elvenking blinked slowly. "Then you are, since you are a spawn of this Earth, equal poison to this world, are you not?"

All the blood drained from your face. "What?"

He looked to Blue-Eyes. "Kill them."

Blue-Eyes gripped you by the back of the head, and your hands flew to his wrist as he yanked your head back. With a flourish, he drew one of his ivory-handled knives and pressed it to your throat. "Wait!" You screamed, and Elvenking raised a hand.

"Last words?" Blue-Eyes sneered.

"I don't know where I am," You choked out quickly; the cool steel of the blade was digging into your neck, cutting a fine line. "I don't know how I got here, but usually when stuff like this happens in movies, there's always a portal. Let me find it-- send an escort if you want! Take me back to where you found me, and I'll find the portal and go home. You'll never see me again!"

Elvenking dropped his hand, and your heart jumped, expecting your head to go with it. "Do you really think that is wise? I sense no dishonesty from you, but you could very well be a spy from your world, which seems so intent on conquering and destroying peace. I will not let this world, much less my own land, fall prey to yours."

"I won't tell anyone about you, or this place, I promise! I don't even know where this is!" Tears of frustration pricked the corners of your eyes. "I'm not a damn spy! I don't even know how I got here! Give me a couple of days to find the portal. Then I'll leave. What if there was a way for you to know I'll keep my word? Like a blood-oath, or something!"

"And if asked where you had gone?" Blue-Eyes countered, cocking an eyebrow.

"I'll tell them I went to Narnia, dammit! They never take me seriously anyway!" Your eyes widened. "This isn't Narnia, is it? Narnia didn't have Elves!"

"No, this is not... Narnia." Elvenking replied. "And you will not know the name of this land. You have three days to find your portal. You will be accompanied by a small assembly of my best warriors. If you do not find the door to your world within the given three days... I will give the order to kill you."

You swallowed hard. The steel dragged across your throat painfully. "Th-that sounds fair." It didn't, but, you just rolled with it.

"Legolas, you will go with them," Elvenking said; something clicked in your mind. You knew that name... You knew that name. But... Why?

Blue-Eyes-- Legolas-- nodded and finally removed the blade from your throat. Lord Fabulous inclined his head once, and you vaguely thanked him, too concerned with how you knew Blue-Eyes's name. He kept a tight, painful grip on your arm, actually digging his fingers in until you were pretty sure he cut off most of your circulation.

When you reached your cell, he thrust you in roughly, making you stumble forward. You whipped around to glare at him. "Could you be careful, Blue-Eyes?"

He paused in locking the door. Confused, he brought his sapphire eyes to meet your [e/c] ones. "What did you just call me?"

"Blue-Eyes," You suddenly felt a little embarassed about picking a nickname for him. Shit, you'd never let that bother you before. He could screw off. "I didn't know your name until a few minutes ago, so... I just picked something to call you."

He raised an eyebrow incredulously. "And you chose to call me after my eyes." It wasn't a question; it was a statement.

You flushed a little, glancing to the side with only your eyes nervously, then back to him. "Uh... Yeah. That's pretty much it."

He rolled his eyes and walked away. Before you even realized what you were doing, you'd ran to the bars and grabbed hold of them, pressing your cheek up against them to watch him walk away. "Blue-Eyes!" He stopped, but didn't turn around. "Your name... Legolas. I think I've heard it before."

He turned his head slightly, like he might be interested, but your hopes fell through the floor when he just continued walking. You immediately wished you'd've said something to get his attention, so he'd come talk to you. Like, Hey, I'm really a spy for Earth, MWAHAHAHAHAHA.

Ok, maybe not that drastic...

But you did wish he'd stayed to talk to you. Even if he'd tried to kill you. Legolas... You slid down the bars, sitting on the floor. Your knees came up to your chest of their own accord. Legolas... What do your Elf eyes see? You knew that you knew his name, but where did you know it from?

They're taking...

Aw, damn. It was right on the tip of your brain. Lord Fabulous looked really familiar, too. He reminded you of Ronan the Accuser from Marvel. Why couldn't you remember? Was it a side-effect of being tossed to another reality? What else did you not remember...?

You sat there for hours, until one of the guards brought you some food. You picked at the meal, as a tune got stuck in your head that you couldn't quite place...

Home is behind...

The world ahead...

Here, the song fizzed out like a radio signal, then you got another bit of it...

All shall fade..

All shall...

...Fade...

~ominous time skip~

You, Blue-Eyes, and a team of Elvish warriors like the ones who'd helped you escape the dogs and orcs set out at dawn, which was way too early for someone used to getting up at noon most of the time. All the Elves showed off their glowy perfect selves by leaping gracefully to pebble to pebble like the regal shits they were, including Blue-Eyes.

Actually, scratch that. Blue-Eyes was the fucking king of being a show-off.

They moved fast, and you were surprisingly able to keep up with them. Not one of the Elves wanted to speak to you; they seemed to consider you an abomination.

You kinda seen what they were getting at, though. You were still in your bright white, blue, and black sci-fi Elf outfit from yesterday, complete with the latex ears and bright blue faux-hawk, which had become much less faux-hawk-y after sleep. You were covered in dried blood, dirt, and parts of your outfit were ripped. You'd tried to clean up as best as you could when you were woken up by using the water from the cup you'd been given to scrub your face and arms with the stunningly clean sheets on your cot.

In other words, you stuck out like a bright blue flower in a field of dark grass. You didn't know the way back to the river, so most of the Elves surrounded you discreetly while Blue-Eyes took the lead. Every one of them had a bow or sword or knife out and ready, so one wrong sniff and you were dead.

You traveled for about an hour before anyone spoke. It was Blue-Eyes, to your surprise. "Why is your hair blue?"

"Huh?" Of all possible questions, that one hadn't been expected. Though, that was kind of dumb of you, to just assume they wouldn't eventually wonder if everybody from your world had crazy hair colors.

"Your hair," Blue-Eyes specified, sounding condescending, like his hair was much better than yours because it was long and perfect and almost white. "Why is it blue?"

"Oh," You cleared your throat. "It's dye. My real color is [h/c]. Lots of people do it where I come from. You can dye it a natural color, or an unnatural color, like so. Some keep their natural color and just add streaks that aren't their natural colors. Some dye their full hair, like me, for the sole purpose of cosplay--uh, dressing up as made-up characters for events--and others dye it just for fun. Or to stand out, I guess. But I wouldn't advise it. It ruins your hair. I just don't care, though."

"Why would anyone want to do that?" One Elf asked in horror, then sneered at you. "I suppose those of your world simply do not appreciate the naturalities of the body."

You shrugged. You should see the LGTBQ+ community... But you didn't feel like explaining any of that to these people right now. Especially when they obviously looked down on stuff like that.

"And what character are you meant to be?" Blue-Eyes asked in a challenging tone.

You flushed. "... A sci-fi Elf."

"...Sci-Fi?" A different Elf asked. "What is that?"

"Science fiction," You specified. "Basically, I'm supposed to be an Elf from another planet. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Is that why you have pointed ears?" Blue-Eyes questioned, and you nodded.

"Yeah. They're latex-- a kind of rubber. Wait, do you even have rubber here?" You waved a hand. "Nevermind. They can come off pretty easily, though. Speaking of which, I'd better take them off before they cause damage..." You reached up to one of your ears, despite the looks the Elves gave you.

Blue-Eyes stopped for a minute, halting the whole group. He looked at you like you were crazy. "Whyever would you put something on your body that could cause damage?"

You blinked. "That is a very good question, Blue-Eyes, and one I don't exactly have an answer for. Almost everybody does it at some point." You felt for the flap of latex, but you couldn't find it. Hell, you couldn't even find the edge of the prosthetic. "Oh shit..." You breathed.

"What is it?" Legolas huffed, and turned around impatiently.

Your eyes widened; you couldn't let them think you were panicking, but, well, you were, and shortly after, you did. "I-I can't get it off."

Blue-Eyes's brow furrowed. "Will it cause permanent damage if they are not removed?"

"Maybe? Yes? My skin goes red and itchy and starts to swell up if I touch latex for too long, so, I'm gonna go with a definitely on this one. Just keep walking. I should have them off by the time we get to the river."

But you didn't. There was no flap, no edge of the latex. If it weren't for the fact that you did put latex ears on, you wouldn't have known you had latex ears on. A suspicion grew in your core, so you grabbed hold of the pointed tip, and pinched down with your nails hard and fast. "Ow!"

Every Elf turned to look at you as you pulled your hand away. Some blood was on the tips of your fingers. "Why, in the name of the Valar, would you hurt yourself?" Legolas sighed like a parent lecturing a child, but you were staring at your fingertips in shock. Valar...

"I'm an Elf..."

"I beg your pardon?" Apparently the mere thought of being the same race as you was too much for Blue-Eyes to handle. It was fucking offensive.

"I'm an Elf!" You shouted, and snatched your hand to your chest. "The ears won't come off! They bled and hurt when I pinched them! I'm a damn Elf! When I fell through that portal, I was a normal human! Now I'm an Elf! I don't know whether I should be freaking out or excited!"

Legolas rolled his eyes. "It won't be permanent. Obviously, here you're an Elf. There, you're not. When we get you through the portal, you'll be a human again."

"But..." I don't want to be human... Yet, you were also trying desperately to get back to your family, on pain of death and loss of cool fantasy land. If only you'd wake up to learn you were in some kind of damn coma...

You waved your hands. "Ok. Alright, fine. Is this where you found me?"

Legolas gestured to a particular rock. "The exact spot. Do you think you could find your way from here?"

You smirked; you'd always been good at knowing your way. "Please. I was born with an innate sense of direction. Now how the fuck do we get over this damn river?"

Legolas grinned. "You're an eldar now, aren't you? See if you can get across it yourself." Eldar... That had to mean an Elf of some sort, right?

You stared him down for a second, hands on your hips. He smirked cockily back, pure smugness on his expression. "Ok. Sure. What's life without risk?"

So you took a deep breath, and headed for the opposite bank.

You and your siblings had this special hiking trail in a park, and on this trail was a creek slash pond area. Several of them. You'd always cross the creek carefully, each step placed just so, and quietly, too, so that you could see the frogs-- it was a frog hunt without actually killing said frogs. The exercise gave you all good balance and a know-how for shit not that rock.

But this river was much different than the creek back home. It was clear, and clean, and strong as fuck, so one wrong move and you'd be whooshed away, with Blue-Eyes giving Lord Fabulous the excuse of "Oh they died in the river tragically oops..."

The rocks were unstable. The river swelled over them every so often to make them slippery. Your rubber boots were less than zero help. But you were an Elf now, right? So that had to make you unfairly agile. You took another deep inhale, then took what you hoped was a graceful leaping step, only for you to slip and nearly bust your ass. Elvish powers have to be learned. Noted.

When you finally got to the other side of the bank, you were stiff, and your heart was pounding. Behind you, the Elves sneered and jeered and all kinds of other "eers". You whipped around, and flipped them off. They looked somewhere between shocked, offended, and terrified. You realized they might not know the symbolism of it, and might think you were cursing them. When they reached you, Blue-Eyes was the first to demand what that was all about. "What was that all about?!"

You panicked under pressure. "U-uh... I-it's a minor insult where I come from. Very minor. We use it frequently as a joke among close friends. A friendly insult. Yeah. Sorry. Won't happen again." He totally didn't believe you. So you quickly changed the subject. "O-oh, uh, this way!"

Scenery seen at night was harder to recognize during the day, and vise versa, but you knew you hadn't gone too far up the river when you came across some massive paw prints and scrape marks from where you'd skidded down the bank. Another bonus clue was the scrap of bright blue fabric, from your skirt/tunic thing, hanging precariously from a branch.

It took you the better part of an hour to find the tree you'd woken up at. "Okay, this it it."

"Are you certain?" Blue-Eyes asked you.

"Wait." You laid down, and yep, everything was the same, except in daylight. Legolas frowned at you as you stood, probably ashamed to even breathe the same air as you. "Yeah, this is it."

Blue-Eyes ordered something in Elvish, jerking his head. The Elves immediately set about making camp. "So, in your world, you fell from the highest branches of an oak, yes?"

"Yep, breaking several things in the process."

"And you lost consciousness after you hit the forest floor?"

"Yep."

Legolas hummed and looked up into the canopy. "Then by all means... The portal should be where you laid."

You glanced down at your feet before bouncing up and down a little. "Nope. Nothing."

Legolas huffed. "You may have to try climbing this tree and falling into this spot."

A deranged laugh escaped your throat, which you quickly stifled. "I'm sorry, but are you crazy? What if I die? We don't have the same healing stuff as you guys unless you can pay for it up front, and I'm very poor. So is all of my family. We can't afford that shit. So if I die, what's the point in going back?"

Legolas glared at you. "I didn't mean from very high. Just high enough to hopefully send you through, but not high enough to kill you. Your healers will mend broken bones, will they not?"

You scoffed dejectedly. "Yeah, but for a pretty hefty bill..." You threw your hands up. "Whatever. I'll die anyway if I don't try. Might as well." With Legolas watching you carefully to make sure you didn't try to jump from tree to tree, you started to climb.

Was it really only yesterday that you'd been having a fun, standard LARPing day with your family and [F/N]? The real world seemed like fantasy, now. This felt real. This felt like where you should be. But if your family weren't here, you wouldn't be able to enjoy it. You'd always feel as if you abandoned them. You wondered, did time pass differently? Did it go faster there, and slower here? Or was it the other way around? Would you find the portal, and return to the real world to find your family long gone and the year a thousand into the future? Then you'd wish you'd never left this place. Or would you find not a moment had passed, and to them, it was still the terrifying moment of not knowing if you were dead or alive, to find you unharmed? Would you then be able to convince them to fall through, even on the chance that the portal could only be used a handful of times, and if it did work, would a millenia had passed here? Even Blue-Eyes would've aged by that point, however slightly.

Once you'd reached a suitable height, you braced yourself against the trunk. "How's this?"

Legolas nodded. "Fine. Jump when you're ready.”

You took a minute... Ah... Better get this over with. One does not simply... Damn, what was that meme? "Ok, ready when you are."

Legolas stepped back, and waited; you hesitated, then jumped, and you felt deja vu as you barreled toward the ground, landing flat on your back. The impact knocked the wind out of you, and you felt a painful snap in your right ribcage. You kept your eyes closed; you heard nothing aside from the birds in the trees. You hoped, then hoped some more, expecting at any moment to hear the frantic footfalls of your family rushing to help you...

"Well, I see I was entirely wrong on the matter," Blue-Eyes stated simply, and you frowned. Fuck...

"Ya think? I'm still seeing priss-ass Elves in a goddamn forest that isn't the one I fell in. Fuck you, Blue-Eyes, for having me break a rib for no good damned reason." You glared at him as you tried to sit up, barely making it halfway before Legolas helped you, albeit roughly.

"Watch your tongue," Blue-Eyes snapped. "If it were not for us, you would be dead."

You pursed your lips. "You're gonna kill me anyway just for breathing on your trees, so why didn't you just let me die?"

For a second, Legolas seemed to feel pity for you. "I am sorry. Truly, I am. Perhaps if we fail to locate your way home, I could convince my father to refrain from executing you."

You huffed, wincing as the action hurt your broken-on-some-level ribs. "Why? So I can live the rest of my suddenly immortal life in a dark cell, underground, just for existing? Hell no. I'd rather die."

"Perhaps you could have another use," Legolas offered, and you shook your head.

"Never in my life have I been considered useful." You eyed Blue-Eyes disdainfully. "Ever. By anybody. If you can find a place for somebody like me that doesn't involve imprisonment, fine. But I won't be able to live with myself if I can't find a way back to Earth. I need my family. They're all I ever had."

Legolas knelt beside you. "You... Seem to be very close with them. You love this..." He looked off into the trees, searching for the word. "...Life, so much, and have wished for it for so long, but you'd give it up, to be with them in a world that does not want you... You have a brave heart."

You took the compliment. "Thanks. Now let's find this damn portal, shall we? I've got a couple more ribs to bust."

Tag List: @tesserphantom​ @thedragonghostofmordor​

@taurlel​ @hauntedsiriel​

[youngwings-writes]

Infinitely Ordinary

Lee Felix x OC

Summary: "𝕀 𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕀 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟"

Busy. Busy worrying, working, just trying to survive. That was the daily life of Jordan Johnson. The world never seemed to slow down; not for her...not for anyone. Finally deciding to take matters into her own hands and get some much needed R&R, she jets off on a trip to South Korea. While there, she unexpectedly meets her soulmate. Will they be able to find happiness together, or will his status get in the way?

Genre: Fluff

Length: 1.5k

Chapter 3: Dream Boy

Buckle up kiddos, the story is gonna pick up in this chapter! We also may or may not be meeting a certain someone this chapter ;) Now, let's get into it!!

So maybe lying down on my bed after an insanely long flight wasn't my brightest idea. I was so sure the day I landed would also be spent exploring, but my body had other plans for me. After flopping uncerimoniously on the bed in my hotel room, the exhaustion caught up to me and lulled me to sleep. For 14 hours.

When I finally woke up from my unintentional hibernation, it was 6 AM.

Lovely.

With my body refusing to go back to sleep, I dragged myself out of bed and began getting ready for the day.

Knowing how early it was definitely put my mind at ease and let me take my time in the shower. I let the hot water cascade down my back as I hummed a little tune to myself. Most of my shower was spent taking in the warmth if I'm being entirely honest. Oh the perks of not having to pay a water bill.

When the water started to run lukewarm, I turned off the faucet and got out. I made my way to my bags that I had left near the door the day before. Grabbing one and heaving it up onto the bed, I ruffled through my clothes and chose an outfit: frayed black shorts, a cropped maroon and white striped shirt, and some Dr. Martens.

Returning to the bathroom, I got dressed, did my hair, and brushed my teeth. Giving myself a once-over, I gave myself a small smile and nod in satisfaction.

Sitting down on the bed, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand. The screen read 7:45 AM along with a few notifications. I responded to the few texts I had received from close friends and family assuring them that I arrived safely. I then quickly checked the other random notification that were primarily from social media. Satisfied with the lack of notifications, I turned my phone off, unplugged it, grabbed my backpack, and made my way out the door.

While there were many places I wanted to visit in Seoul, my stomach decided that breakfast was a necessity before I visited any of them. Unlike my hometown, there were many cafes around, so finding one using navigation and calling a cab was unnecessary. Instead, I opted to just walk around for a bit until I found a cafe that seemed interesting to me.

It didn't take long for me to find a cafe that I wanted to go to. The moment I stepped into the cafe, I was greeted a hoard of dogs. There were so many different breeds scattered about the building.

Coffee, pasteries, and dogs. I was in heaven.

I quickly paid the server my entrance fee and was lead to a table in the far right corner.

Placing a menu on the table in front of me, my server smiled and bowed politely before making their way back up to the counter. I picked up the menu, scanning through the various snacks and beverages. While there were some decent cafes back home, I don't think I had ever seen one with such an extensive menu.

And the dogs; you can't forget the dogs.

Picking something to drink and something to snack on took me much longer than I had originally anticipated. It also may or may not have ended up being more than just one drink and one snack...only sorry to my bank account on that one.

Waiting for my order to come out, I took a good look around the cafe. Everything about it was so different from the cafes I went to back home. Most of the ones I had been to before had a very rustic or very modern design. This cafe was definitely modern and minimalistic, but it was also very homey. The entire vibe of it made me very relaxed.

Mindlessly petting one of the lovely pups next to me, I began fiddling with my phone. Social media was always a good distraction from my unbearable impatience regarding food. Plus, it gave me the time to message some friends and family to tell them I'm safe and out having a good time.

I was soon brought out of my trance by a gentle buzz emitting from the coaster coaster I was given; my order was finally ready. I made my way to the counter and swapped my buzzer for a tray with way more sugar than I needed on it. I could almost cry just looking at everything I bought.

Sitting back down in my corner, I gently placed the tray on the table. I first made sure to photograph everything I had ordered. Typically I wouldn't do this when I went out for food or drinks, but I wanted to make sure I had memories to look back on from this trip. After all of my items had been properly documented, I went straight for the Oreo roll cake and Cookies N Cream milkshake.

What can I say? I'm a sucker for sweets.

I was so engrossed in all the sugary snacks and beverages in front of me that I didn't hear the bell above the door ring. The presence of another customer vaguely registered when he began ordering. I was still very much focused on what was in front of me, the patron's deep Korean becoming background noise. It wasn't until the man took a seat at the adjacent table that I was actually aware there was another person in the cafe.

From what I could tell, the man wasn't terribly tall or short, was roughly the same age as me, and oddly familiar. I couldn't clearly see his face because he was bent over in his seat petting a Golden Retriever, but something about him screamed that I knew him.

Ignoring the itching in the back of my mind, I focused on my food again. I was once again completely enchanted by the copious amounts of sugar... or at least I was until the man's buzzer went off and he made his way past me to get his order. It was in that moment that I got a decent glance at his face.

Freckles. Lots of freckles.

Holy shit. It's Lee Felix.

My heart was racing, pounding so loud I'm sure others could hear it. My cheeks were definitely the color of strawberries, my pale skin never failing to show internal emotions. My right forearm burned.

Wait, why is my forearm burning?

Feeling beyond flustered at the fact that my ultimate bias is sitting less than 10 feet away from me, I tried to distract myself. First I acted like there was something really interesting on my phone; that didn't work for long. I turned my attention to my forearm instead, which had now turned from a burning to just being oddly warm.

My eyes widened.

There, on my previously empty skin, was a tattoo of a sun.

No. Fucking. Way.

It seemed I wasn't the only one experiencing this sensation, as when I looked up I locked eyes with the freckly boy.

I froze.

Sitting there doing nothing obviously wasn't going to do either of us any good. I think Felix realized I wasn'tt going to make the first move, so he slowly got up and made his way towards me. Gently, he grabbed my arm, examining the new ink. I glanced at the arm grasping mine.

There was a crescent moon.

Taking a deep breath, I looked up to meet his eyes once again. His gaze was warm yet firm, doing nothing to calm the butterflies running rampant in my stomach.

"Well shit," I breathed out before I could stop myself. I quickly slapped my hand over my mouth, cursing myself for being so stupid.

Apparently my thoughtlessness was enough to lighten the situation a bit, Felix letting out a little chuckle.

"I'm so sorry! My mind is running a mile a minute right now. I'm not sure what I was expecting to happen today, but this definitely wasn't it," I say, letting out a nervous laugh.

"Don't worry, you're totally fine! I can definitely say this isn't something I expected either," he smiled at me.

I finally found the courage to move, standing on wobbly legs. I hope I didn't look as unsteady as I felt. I swear if someone breathed on me I would collapse. Nonetheless, I powered through and leaned back on the table slightly for support.

"I'm Jordan," I mustered, sticking out my hand and offering a shy smile.

"Felix," he replied while reciprocating my actions.

Dropping hands, things grew slightly awkward once again.

"So... I guess we're soulmates?"

A/N:    AAANNNDDD that's where I'm gonna leave this chapter :) Our two main characters have finally met, so things should start picking up here soon! Thanks again for reading!! See you guys in the next chapter :) ~youngwings-writes

<previous  |  next>

[arcanny]

Ephemeral

Ephemeral

.

genre: romance [angst fluff]

au: NonIdol!Jaemin

word count: 1.6K

content warning: character death and bad grammar (english is not my first language)

author note: i’m very new to tumblr, it would be nice if you left a comment, a note or even reblogged it. this is my very first oneshot and it was in the draft for long so I brought it out. hope you enjoy reading ! (the header is too big for my desktop theme i’m gonna fix it soon! for now i just advice you (if you read on desktop website; to zoom in and then my header won’t be so annoying hoping it helps)

(adj) lasting for a very short time.

I nearly startled in my seat when a new sound pierced through the deafening silence. Steps and breaths followed by a small cough. I gazed up and realized I wasn’t the only one in the train coupé. Opposite in the plush seats sat a boy. He ran a hand through his blonde hair with a striking streak of blue hair disheveled on his forehead, sniffled with his cute nose, and gave me picture-perfect smile. On his white t-shirt, the print said over there, and he did look over at me.

“You are staring,” He said.

All of the sudden my cheeks felt warm, they would be rosy red.

“You are staring” I replied as I let the defense position take control over my choice of words.

His eyebrow was raised for a short moment before he smirked.

“You are worth looking at.”

—

Two weeks went by and Jaemin and I were together at least seven days out of the 14 days. He continually made me do things that I didn’t even dare to do before. In the public swimming pool, he made a jump from the highest diving board. The sinking you get in the stomach when you stand several meters over the pool’s surface and look down at the pit of it. The sinking feeling typically goes away as soon as you hit the water’s surface. That was not the case for me. For when I swam up through the clear chlorinated water, there stood a beaming Jaemin who would pat my head. He made the sinking feeling continue.

—

I sat with Jaemin in his dining room. The light from the ceiling lamp shone down on the food in the otherwise dark room. There was an awkward silence. Jaemin smiled at me whilst his brother shook his head. The brother gave him a small nudge.

“Is it now wrong to smile at one’s girlfriend” He grinned.

He always did it; he always had to break the silence. I took a bite of my plate, the food burned down my throat.

“It tastes delicious,” I said.

“It’s good you like it, Jaemin told me it’s your favorite dish.” His mother said.

She nodded towards him as he sheepishly grinned while rubbing his neck. He then coughed and the silence came again. Now the brother wasn’t the slightest irritated - he was worried. He looked over at his mother who just looked at the ground mumbling something. Nobody said anything. Butterflies started erupting in my stomach, not the usual colorful tranquil ones. These were dark and panicking in there.

—

Jaemin followed me home. The moon illuminated the small sideway we took as the silence overfilled everything. You could clearly hear the first raindrop that reached the asphalt. It sounded like an earthquake when Jaemin cleared his throat. Or was it a cough? I was reminded by the dinner and the sudden mood shift. The butterflies breaking out of their cocoons.

“Jaemin?” I asked. He froze.

“What happened earlier?”

The sound of his strides became louder and louder, mixed with the splashing sounds by the raindrops. He didn’t say anything, just stared out in the rain, raindrops trickling down his face.

“Jaemin what happened?”

My hand pushed his shoulder the hot tears pressing behind my eyes.

“Just…say something”

He finally stopped and looked at me with a piercing gaze.

“Say we always will be together,” He said.

“What?”

“Y/N, say we always will be together.”

The cold raindrops dripped from his body, but not even a hurricane could move him out of place. Not until he had what he wanted; me.

“We’ll always be together,” I promised.

—

“Do you believe in life after death?” Jaemin asked me once, we’ve had been together for almost a year. Sunlight streamed through the windows, it reached his dreamy eyes framed by long lashes and his astronomic telescope on the table. He also had luminous stars in the ceiling and prints of the universe on the curtains. I liked that about his room.

“I would like to believe, in life after death. I don’t like the thought of it all just ends,” I replied after thinking my answer it through. My voice was the only sound that broke the silence.

“I’m not Christian,” He said, “- but I would like to believe in life after death too,”

I shrugged and asked:

“How would Paradise look like?”

“I don’t know. As long as you are there.”

He showcased me a toothy smile, and a warm feeling grew in my body.

—

One night Jaemin and I wanted to watch the meteor shower together. We were laying in my back-yard waiting. A small cloud of steam formed when Jaemin coughed. He was there waiting intently. Like a little kid waiting for permission to take a bite of a cake. My hands fiddled with a brown withered leaf and pulled my hands into my body as the cold feeling started to spread in my body. I was just about to lose my patience and asking if we could stay outside but then Jaemin pointed.

“There!” He shouted with a high-pitched voice. I laughed by his excitement.

I did not see the first shooting star although it did not matter considering there went a few seconds before a new one appeared on the night sky. It continued. Thousands of stars flew across the night sky, like random blobs of paint littered across the sky as it infinite canvas. We were laying for a long time whilst Jaemin eyes were glued to the night sky, wide open, whereas mine were always fluttering waiting to let me shut them.

“Y/N, you can’t fall asleep.”

I rolled onto my side.

“I’m so tired”

However, Jaemin insisted until I promised to stay up with him and watch the meteor shower.

—

The morning after I was awakened by Jaemin, he shook me, and his facial expression was enough to send me trembling. He trashed roughly around in the blankets and his right arm was sticky and sweaty on top of his right leg which was red swollen. With shaking hands, I called an ambulance.

When the ambulance finally arrived, everything was chaos. I had no figures on how many men were running around in luminous jackets, and I tried not to catch a glimpse of Jaemin who laid half-unconscious on the stretcher.

The short trip to the hospital felt like hours. I sat and stared out the window at the tailgate. The world continued. Jaemin laid on the stretcher. At one point I tried to squeeze his hand, but he didn't squeeze back and it made me cry even more

“What is going on?” I asked his mum. She took a deep shuddering breath and looked at the ceiling. I could not see if she was trying to hold her tears back.

“When you have… “Her eyes shut in a concentrating way whilst she continued: “…Lung cancer. When you have lung cancer there is a bigger probability for deep vein thrombosis in the legs.”

There, the mild smell of cleanliness in the hospital went from being pleasant to awful, and the sound of the nurses' clicking shoes outside became unbearable. I was sweating and freezing at the same time and I could not find the normal rhythm in my breathing. Lung cancer. It sounded so wrong in my ears, yet it was the truth. Now I finally realized why Silas insisted on the meteor shower, why he was coughing all the time. I got nausea, I had to clamp a hand over my mouth and stare into the wall so I would not to throw up. Jaemin has Lung cancer.

“Lung cancer?”

My voice thin, so thing it cracked, the tears silently falling down my cheeks. Jaemin’s mother shifted in her seat seconds later crying in her hands.

“He did not tell you?”

I shook my head.

“No”

—

He left us a week ago, I wasn’t even there. He died of his lung cancer which I did not even know about until a week ago. All I know is the phone call from his brother.

“He is dead,” He said.

I guess he just couldn't bear to say more. That is understandable.

I promised Jaemin not to be afraid of new things, but I’m scared. I’m scared of the life I lived before him.

In his notebook, which he had called his will, I received this message:

Dear y/n I love you

Dots started appearing before my eyes as I stumbled around the floor. Trying to stay conscious.

—

I just went out and spread his ashes. They would have buried him, but I told them I would not let him rot. Jaemin was too ethereal to rot in the underground, he belonged to the celestial world like the twinkling star of life he was. That wish is probably the only thing I've said all week. Otherwise, I just nodded. I nod to people when they say they are condoling. I nod to my mother when she glanced sees me with a pitiful look in the eyes sighing.

I don't know what else to do. But I didn't nod as Jaemin flew away with the wind; I cried.

—

I bike home. It's a beautiful day, but it's as if I don't feel the beauty. The sun shines on my face but I can’t feel its warmth. The wind whispers in my neck, but it’s not pleasant. My mind is too clouded to see the truck coming through the sideway. I’m too slow. And just before I hit the truck, I swear I could hear a voice whisper:

“Meet me in Paradise.”

[onwardintolight]

Han x Leia, ESB, Trip to Bespin, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: ESB from Leia's POV. A journey from despair to hope, a blossoming, an opening to vulnerability and love.

Warnings: Deals with some heavy themes, incl. working through trauma, depression, self-harm, attempted sexual assault. Each chapter will be individually warned.

Note: I’m currently in the process of reposting the first nine chapters here in full, since when I first wrote this fic, I only shared links to the chapters on AO3 and FFN. I will try to post at least weekly. In the meantime, if you’d prefer to binge-read it, the entire fic is posted in full on AO3 and FFN.

Part: Masterlist | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | Epilogue

~~~

In the end, they had taken him away as unceremoniously as they had locked him in carbonite. At a hand signal from Fett, the Ugnaughts activated the repulsors on the carbonite casing. Within a minute, he was gone, and Fett with him.

Leia felt hollow.

Lando approached them, a strange, almost regretful look on his face. He reached out to grab Leia’s arm again, then thought better of it. “Come on,” he said.

Four stormtroopers and an officer flanked them as they followed Calrissian out of the room. Several paces down the hall, they were corralled into a turbolift, which took them back to the gleaming upper levels. The corridors were eerily empty, entirely devoid of the bustle of people that had been there earlier that day (she supposed it was still that day, though she wasn’t altogether sure). Clearly, the Imperial presence in the city had its people spooked.

She glanced at Chewbacca. If they were to break free, it would have to be soon. She wasn’t sure where Vader’s ship was docked, but she doubted it was far. Thankfully, her strength had returned. She was tired and weary and weighed down by grief, but her body at least seemed to have recovered well enough.

She heard a soft, distant series of beeps, and she frowned, her heart leaping into her throat. Was that…?

The sound of blaster fire crackled through the air, followed by more beeps.

Luke!

He was here, with Artoo. She had to find him, had to let him know—

She was saved the trouble of trying. Apparently, they were still being used as bait. The officer nodded abruptly to Lando and the troopers, and they turned back the way they had come. The blaster fire grew closer. All of a sudden, the officer grabbed her and held her in front of him as a shield, pulling her toward a dark maintenance hallway along with the others. Leia’s heart pounded; surely that was Luke, surely—

There! There he was, peeking out from behind a wall. “Luke!” she screamed. They were pulling her towards the door; she grabbed onto the frame. “Luke, don’t; it’s a trap!” The officer tugged her inside; she struggled, broke free, and managed to grab the doorframe once more before he got hold of her again. “It’s a trap!”

Roughly, her captor pulled her inside. They were forced into a run down the corridor; moments later, they turned swiftly into another one that led back out to the main halls, slowing once they reached the light again.

Luke knows, she thought, her heart comforted. He might still come after them, but at least he’d be prepared. Now, she and Chewie had to figure out how to get to Han.

They approached an intersection, and she heard footsteps. She barely had time to blink before they were surrounded by Cloud City security guards. Lando shoved the officer towards one of the guards and began collecting blasters from the stormtroopers as Leia looked around in astonishment.

“Well done,” Lando said to his cyborg aide, handing him two of the blasters. “Hold them in the security tower, and keep it quiet,” he murmured. “Move.”

Within a few seconds, Lando, Leia, Chewie, and Threepio were alone in the hallway. To her surprise, Lando handed her two more blasters he was holding and went to work on Chewbacca’s cuffs. A sudden rush of anger flowed through her. After all he’d done, was he going to try to play the hero now?

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“We’re getting out of here.”

“I knew all along; it had to be a mistake!” exclaimed Threepio.

“Do you think after what you did to Han we’re going to trust you?”

With a snarl and a curse that Leia could not quite translate, Chewie escaped his bounds, his paws immediately latching onto Lando’s throat. The man’s eyes widened. Futilely, he reached up his hands to try to pull the Wookiee’s off. “I had no choice,” he croaked.

“What are you doing? Trust him! Trust him!” Threepio urged.

But all Leia could see was red-hot rage. This was the man who had betrayed them to the Empire. This was the man who had led them straight to Vader, bringing her nightmares back to life again. This was the man who had done nothing while they spent hours in torment. This was the man who had stolen Han Solo from her. They had trusted him once; they would not do so again. Nor would he be forgiven.

“Oh, we understand, don’t we, Chewie? He had no choice!” Spite and sarcasm dripped off her tongue.

«Liar!» growled Chewie. He shook the man, sending him to his knees.

“I’m just trying to help!” Lando’s voice came out in a wheeze.

“We don’t need any of your help,” she replied imperiously.

“Haaah… haaaaaaah….” He could no longer form words, apparently. Good, she thought. He would pay for what he’d done.

He continued croaking the same syllable, and suddenly, she frowned. “What?” she demanded.

“It sounds like Han!” Threepio declared.

Chewie must have lightened his grip slightly, because Lando managed to get out a full sentence. “There’s still a chance to save Han!” He struggled, choking out the words. “At the east… platform!”

Leia froze, uncertainty flooding through her. She blinked back her fury.

What were they doing? They were better than this. This kind of revenge, this kind of mercilessness…. She swallowed.

Whatever the case, Lando knew things that could help them find Han. “Chewie!” she pled, her voice urgent. Without waiting for a reply, she sprinted off in a general easterly direction. Whatever strange temper that had come over her was quickly fading, replaced by a deadly focus: to find and save Han. In a moment, she heard Chewie’s footfalls behind her.

“I’m terribly sorry about all this!” the droid called out behind them. “After all, he’s only a Wookiee!”

“Wait!” cried Lando. “You’re going the wrong way to get to the platform!”

Leia turned, hands on hips, an eyebrow raised. Lando coughed as he rose to his feet. “We’ve got to go this way, then curve around! I’ll show you.”

Without a word, she followed.

~~~

They ran.

Lando led them down a number of passageways she didn’t recall seeing before. While she was unable to let go of the thick resentment she felt for him, Leia was admittedly grateful for his presence now. They could have wandered for hours around Cloud City before finding the right platform.

As they ran, she caught glimpses of color through the windows. When they emerged from the tower they were in, running alongside it on an outdoor walkway, she got a full view. It was sunset, and the whole sky was ablaze with rose and violet. It seemed to mock them with its beauty; wholly apathetic to their terror and tragedy, and yet somehow at the same time emblematic of the hope Leia still dared to cradle in her heart.

Could they make it on time? Could Han still be saved?

Losing him now would be catastrophic. Boba Fett would likely deliver him straight to Jabba, and she had no doubt that Han would not be treated mercifully by the Hutt. If they didn’t rescue him before then… she forced herself not to think about it, instead counting her steps, focusing on breathing evenly as she ran.

She thought of their time together these past few weeks; how rare and precious it had been, how far they’d come together. The healing conversations they’d had, the kisses they’d shared. How much she loved him. Han might have been a scoundrel, but he was her scoundrel, the scoundrel she needed, the scoundrel with a hero’s heart. He was brave and foolhardy and compassionate and ridiculous, and she loved him. She thought of his sideways smile, how it lit her up, and his hazel eyes, so honest and vulnerable even when he was trying his damnedest not to be. She thought of how he always cared, no matter how much he claimed otherwise. She thought of him coming back, always coming back—for her, for Luke, for his friends, for what was right.

Now she was coming back for him.

They rounded a corner, and she heard a series of beeps as they ran under an archway back into the tower.

“Artoo, Artoo! Where have you been?” Threepio cried from behind her, and Chewie let out a roar of greeting. She barely paid attention, so focused was she on running after Lando. Surely the platform couldn’t be much farther.

They hurried along another corridor lined with windows looking out onto the deepening dusk, and finally they reached a security door. Lando typed something into the controls, and it opened. As soon as the door had risen high enough, she raced out onto the platform, heart pounding… and stopped short. A small ship was already lifting off. Raising the blaster rifle Lando had given her, she fired on it relentlessly. Chewie, beside her, did the same.

It was too late.

Heart constricting, she watched, powerless, as the ship flew off into the twilight, carrying Han far away. It dwindled down to nothingness, and then it was gone.

He was gone.

“Chewie, they’re behind you!” cried Threepio in alarm. Blaster bolts rang out from the hall. Cursing the Empire, she turned and ran to one side of the door for cover. After a moment, Lando ran around the door and into a side hall, and the rest of them followed, dodging enemy fire. Artoo, who had been rolling around and beeping with both excitement and confusion, zipped along after them. She could hear the stormtroopers’ heavy footfalls close behind.

“This way,” Lando called.

Thankfully, the corridor wound enough that the troopers could get no clear shot at them. A few seconds later, they came upon an intersection; to the right and up a short flight of stairs was a turbolift. Leia halted. The troopers were too close; they wouldn’t make it… quickly she leaned back around the corner and fired off a shot, downing one of them. Hopefully that would delay them for the split second they needed. Chewie growled worriedly at her to hurry, and she ran up the stairs to join the others in the lift. Lando punched the controls. The door swept shut just as a few more troopers began to run up the stairs after them.

They let out a collective sigh of relief.

“Where to now?” she asked Lando as the turbolift dropped downward.

“Back to the Falcon and out of here,” he replied. “We’re not far.”

Leia’s heart sank, but she nodded. Luke would be fine, she told herself. He was fully capable of taking care of himself, and he had brought his X-wing. Meanwhile, they had an entire detachment of stormtroopers on their tail. If they were caught, that would be the end; there would be no chance of rescuing Han, and likely no chance for them to escape again, either.

Han.

She forced back a fresh wave of tears.

They sprang out of the lift when it opened, Lando leading the way down the hall and around a corner. He stopped at another door, pounding at the controls. It didn’t open. “The security code has been changed,” he griped as Chewie came up and banged on the door.

“Artoo, you can tell the computer to override the security systems!” Threepio suggested.

Artoo beeped cheerfully and approached the console. Leia’s eyes followed Lando, meanwhile, as he walked over to another one. After entering another code, he took out a comlink. “Attention,” he announced, his voice carrying over the building’s speakers. “This is Lando Calrissian. The Empire has taken control of this city and I advise everyone to leave before more Imperial troops arrive.”

Leia’s brows knit. That was… surprisingly noble of him. She would have done the same.

Without warning Artoo began to spark, smoke pouring off of him as he cried out in mechanical distress. Chewie pulled him away from the terminal, and Leia frowned in consternation. Fortunately, the little droid seemed to recover quickly.

“This way,” interjected Lando, starting off down another hallway, and the rest of them followed.

“Well, don’t blame me,” she heard Threepio say. “I’m an interpreter; I’m not supposed to know a power socket from a computer terminal!”

Turning into a main corridor, they found themselves in the middle of a mass of panicked people running this way and that, carrying various belongings. Winding their way through them, they ducked out of the passageway and made for another security door. A blaster bolt sounded behind them; Chewie, guarding the rear, fired back. Leia turned around to join him as Artoo made for the second door’s console. Stormtroopers were swarming into the hall now; she and Chewie dropped them to the ground, one by one.

Artoo beeped in triumph. Leia heard the sound of the door opening, but she kept on firing. Anger and grief surged through her. She watched as if in a dream as more and more stormtoopers fell to her blaster bolts. Lando’s hands gripped her shoulders, pulling her away. She shook him off but backed down the hall after him, still shooting at the ones who had been complicit in so much pain. Finally, she slipped out of the doorway and ran for the Falcon. When she reached the ramp, she turned again to provide covering fire for the others. More troopers fell. Others came up to take their place; they dropped, too.

Justice.

There would be justice for what they had done. Tears stung her eyes.

“Leia!” Lando yelled from the other side of the ramp. “Go!”

She shook herself out of her trance. This won’t help Han, she realized. It wouldn’t help any of them right now.

Reluctantly, she turned and ran into the ship.

[clevercatchphrase]

Just some numbers and figures~

So! I finished my fan fiction, You Monster, this week, and it took me exactly 3 and a half years to write/edit/publish. This post at the time of writing, however, is being written a few days before the final chapter goes up, just examining  some numbers and trends around the wordcount and posting rate of my fan fic, because i’m obsessed with numbers and such, and i’m just trying to chew up time and keep myself occupied before the last chapter goes public. There’s literally no point to this post other than to marvel at how long this story is and how long it took me to get it out there, and reflect on what happened to me in The Real World during that time. Care to join me?

In Microsoft Word, this entire story is 609 pages and 209,235 words. The word count is slightly higher on AO3 (which I consider the definitive draft), partly because AO3 counts formatting tags as words for some reason, and because if I make little adjustments to the story, I’ll do it on AO3, but not on the original word file (or corresponding tumblr post for that matter) because I can’t be bothered to. 

According to AO3, I started this fic on January 3rd, 2016, smack dab in the middle of my winter break in my last year of college. I probably started writing it a few days before, maybe in december. I’m not really sure, but I’m kinda surprised I started it so early in the year, especially since I was writing by the seat of my pants for the first 14 chapters or so.

The following pictures highlight what days/months chapters were posted, according to AO3 (I personally think there might be a discrepancy or two due to timezones)

Chapter-wise, the first third of this story (Chapters 1 through 12) was written and posted in 2 months, and TWO THIRDS of the entire story (Chapters 1 through 25 (rounding up)) were written in the first YEAR.

Wordcount-wise, HALF the story (roughly 100k words) was written in one year.

There was a dramatic drop in productivity at the middle/end of 2016 due to Real World Stress, mostly me graduating & getting a job, the presidential elections, and learning a family member was starting to have kidney failure.

God, 2017 was a bad year for me, productivity-wise. In early June I lost said family member due to their kidney failure, and was completely unmotivated to work on You Monster for the rest of the year. I remember forcing myself to write for NaNoWriMo that year, and it helped snap me out of my funk, but I didn’t like how the writing came out and kept pushing off revising and editing the drafts for several weeks. I also remember getting really sick on christmas eve/day with a terrible flu, which made me unable to post the next chapter until January.

I actually felt a lot better mentally and emotionally in 2018. I WOULD have written more in early 2018, but that was also when the Hiveswap Comic Contest started, and lasted for 3 straight months with me doing nothing more than drawing comics for 12 consecutive weeks. Then, after that was over, I started thinking/planning more seriously about writing ANOTHER story, which later became Ghost Switch, and I offically started that halfway through 2018. I originally thought about making Ghost Switch a written work, but it was basically going to be another re-telling of Undertale, which was what I was doing with You Monster anyway, and I didn’t want to write all of that out again, so I decided to make it a comic instead. It was a great decision for me art-wise, because now I’m improving my art skills through weekly comic pages, but it was also a terrible decision art-wise because now I GOTTA KEEP DRAWING POSES AND BACKGROUNDS AND DRAWING PEOPLE IS HARD. 

Back to the point- I forced myself to write this fic again for NaNoWriMo that year, and was terribly upset that I still didn’t finish. But this time, I forced myself to revise and edit my writing until it became something I could tolerate, and posted the next chapter in January (again, but this time because my writing needed far more revisions than last year’s nano draft) 

Getting back into revising and editing DID seriously help me get back in the groove of Wanting To Write, but it was a little trickier now that I was also drawing a comic, and it was hard to manage my time between the two, because when I write, I do it for great stretches at a time. I mean, like, 4 or 5 hours straight of writing. Same goes for comic making, too. sketching the pages can take me two hours, and cleaning/inking/coloring them can take me anywhere from 4 to 6 hours.

Hm. If I included the other fics I wrote during this time, I get the feeling these calendars would look a lot more active and colorful. Maybe i’ll do that for myself later, so I can see how much I posted in 3 years.

This year, I was absolutely determined to finish this story, even if it killed me. I was still struggling to manage my time between writing and art, mostly dedicating a few weeks to make a buffer of comic pages so I could have a couple of weeks dedicated to writing. It was time consuming, and I felt bad when I worked on one but not the other, but I finally got my breakthrough in May, when I had to take multiple trips to an automotive shop for several different car repairs. Instead of just leaving my car there and going home, I brought my writing spirals with me and just wrote and wrote and didn’t stop writing while I waited in their loby. I finally finished the rough drafts of my story after being stuck for 4 hours in a Pepboys, and spent two more full days typing it out. Then, I rested for a week, and spent 3 more revising and editing the remaining bits. I was hoping to get the whole thing done and posted before July ended, but that did not end up being the case. For me, when we finally get to August, we have entered “the end of the year”. Ah, well. Even though I didn’t get the story completely posted before August, I can still take pride in knowing I finished it before the year was half way over~!

NOW FOR SOME NUMBERS!

I personally divide this story into 5 arcs, Ruins, Snowdin, Waterfall, Hotland, and New Home And Beyond (Which is basically anything that can happen after you unlock the true lab in-game)

Ruins

The Ruins arc I consider everything in chapters 1 thorugh 12. It is simultainiously the longest arc (chapter-wise, with 12 chapters which as mentioned earlier, is 1/3rd of the story) and also the shortest arc, only taking up 24k words (Which is an 8th of the entire story, or roughly 12.5%).It was also the quickest writen arc, as it was primarily prologue/first act material. Pretty much all of it was written in that first January. It’s 80 pages long, or 13% of all pages

Snowdin

The snowdin arc (chapters 13 to 22) is just under 25% of the entire story, coming in at 49 thousand words (on the nose!) It is the second longest arc in both word count and in number of Chapters (10, to be exact~) It took me roughly 4.5 months to write this arc. We also spend the most physical in-story time in Snowdin. Almost 3 full days, which is half of the story’s timeline (not counting the 7-8 years in the Ruins. That was all set-up) It’s 172 pages long, or 28% of all pages.

Waterfall

The Waterfall arc (Chapters 23 to 28) is the longest arc wordcount-wise, making up another 25% of the story, coming in at 53.6 thousand words, and dead center when it comes to the number of chapters it makes up (which is 6). Looking at this now, litterally half this story takes place in Snowdin and Waterfall. Roughly one full day is spent in waterfall, from noon of the first day, to roughly late morning of the second. This arc took me 11 months to write/post, and if you read the notes for these corrisponding chapters, you can tell I was not having a good time during it. It’s 178 pages long, or 29% of all pages.

Hotland

The Hotland arc, (chapters 29 to 32) Is the shortest arc chapter-wise, with only 4 (10% of all chapters), and second shortest arc wordcount-wise, coming in at 36 thousand words, or about 18% of the story. It’s also the shortest in-story arc time-wise, seeing as you only spend about half a day here. I did not like writing the hotland arc! Mostly in part because Hotland is my least favorite region in the game. Chapter 32 is probably my least favorite out of all of what I’ve written. It was difficult figuring out what to do with Alphys and Mettaton, seeing as their interactions with you in game heavily focus on you and your human-ness. I am quite glad that each chapter was pretty neatly divided by in-game floors. It was a good way to know where a chapter could end and when I could give the characters some breathing room. It took me over a year to complete the Hotland arc, and most of that time was because I didn’t want to revise and edit what I wrote. It’s 123 pages long, or 20% of all pages.

New Home and Beyond

I don’t consider the True Lab part of Hotland because of in-game story reasons. You can’t access it until you’ve gone to New Home at least once, and once you enter it, you cant leave until you finish it, which, again, takes you to new home. Honestly, once you get to the true lab, you’ve won the game. There is no way to ruin your pacifist playthrough once you get to the lab, and while the amalgamates may kill you, you can’t “lose” once you get this far. That’s why I consider Chapter 33 the start of the New Home arc even though in my story we haven’t seen new home yet (mostly because there are no saves or resets in this story, so we kinda couldn’t have gone there first).

The New Home arc is the second shortest chapter-wise, making up the last 5 chapters (13% of all of them), and is dead-center when it comes to word count, finishing with 46.5 thousand words, or roughly the last 25%. I was actually really excited to write everything from chapter 34 to 36 after having been fantisizing about it in my head for the last two years. I gotta be honest, the end of chapter 37 gave me some trouble. I was still making edits up to a few days before it went public, but I think I got the feelings I wanted across~ It’s 161 pages long, or 26% of all pages.

Extra???

I started keeping a word file for bits of dialogue and scenes that I originally wrote in my spiral, but ultimately cut for one reason or another. Mostly these are just sentences and snippets that sounded redundant, ooc, or were just an alternate dialouge I decided not to use. I didn’t start doing this until chapter 28, according to my files, but according to the masterfile, there were 6.4 thousand words I ended up not using. 

There are, in fact, several bullet points I had originally planned and ended up not using, such as Sans ASKING Undyne to keep an eye on the kid while they were in waterfall, which sounded hypocritical after I wrote him coming to peace with them, as well as having Asgore tuoring the Underground that week, and thus Sans, Papyrus, Undyne and Alphys having to hide Frisk from him once they become friends. (the painkillers Alphys also gave frisk were actually supposed to induce drowsiness in Frisk, making them fall asleep so Alphys could keep them from going to New Home, but this was a point I dropped at the absolute last minute, and you can tell if you re-read chapter 29, because it’s hinted at, but the painkillers are never mentioned again. I figured that plot point was a little too dark for Alphys’ character)

Fun Fact: the zalgo text in Chapter 27 DOES actually have dialouge in it, if you know what to look for. Only one person has asked about it, but no one has yet to decifer it.

AT A GLANCE:

ARC LENGTHS (CHAPTER WISE) SHORTEST TO LONGEST

Hotland (4 Chapters)

New Home and Beyond (5 Chapters)

Waterfall (6 Chapters)

Snowdin (10 Chapters)

Ruins (12 Chapters)

ARC LENGTHS (WORDCOUNT WISE) SHORTEST TO LONGEST

Ruins (24k)

Hotland (36k)

New Home and Beyond (46.5k)

Snowdin (48k)

Waterfall (53.6k)

ARC LENGTHS (PAGE COUNT) SHORTEST TO LONGEST

(Same order as above)

TIME TAKEN TO WRITE/PUBLISH, SHORTEST TO LONGEST

Ruins (1 month)

Snowdin (4.5 months)

New Home and Beyond (~6 months)

Waterfall (11 months)

Hotland (>1 Year)

Other Numbers For Some Reason

Chapters 1 through 19 make up the 1st 50k words (this when Frisk falls into the underground, up to Sans attacking them in the kitchen) 19 chapters

Chapters 20 through 26 make up the 2nd 50k words (when Frisk decides to seek asgore’s help, to when Undyne cuts the bridge) 7 chapters

Chapters 27 through 31 make up the 3rd 50k words (when Frisk dislocates their shoulder to Flowey killing the messenger spider) 5 chapters

Chapters 32 through 37 make up the 4th 50k words (When Mettaton decides to change the programming, to Frisk’s final choice) 6 chapters

Only 5 chapters exceed 10k words, they are chapters 22, 27, 28, 33 and 36

Here’s a visual representation of all the chapters and their word counts in relation to one another. I was so startled by the spikes of chapter 22 and 28 that I had to go back and skim the chapters to remind myself what went down in them and why they were so long. Chapter 22 is papyrus trying to keep the human in snowdin while sans runs some errands, and then the human discovering the skelebro’s deceit. Chapter 28 is the human realizing Undyne tried to murder them, and then escaping from waterfall. I distinctly remembering saying I could have split chapter 28, but I was so tired of writing waterfall that I refused to do so because I just wanted it to end already.

I find it absolutely hilarious how consistant my word count was until chapter 20 (chapter 15 is an outliar), and then everything went off the rails.

Here’s a graph of the total word count, shown to you NaNoWriMo style~ (I spent way too long in excel making both of these charts, please validate me) 

The climb definitely looks a lot less drastic here, as it is always building on itself, but if you look closely, you can see one or two inflection points, roughly around chapter 20 and 28.

FINAL THOUGHTS

I’m so glad to finally be done with this story. It’s certainly deviated from what I originally planned, but I think all the changes are for the better. Now I can think about writing other things, like the PTA!AU shorts I’ve been meaning to do. It was fun and it was challenging, and this is literally the longest thing I’ve ever written in my life. Will I ever make a story this long again? Maybe?? If I ever encounter another game with as much character and worldbuilding as Undertale that also just hits me in the feels the same way, I might, but for now I’m going to focus on other projects (most of them still undertale related, but shut up)

Got any questions, comments, concerns for my fic? I’m so glad it’s done, now, and I’d be happy to talk about my thoughts behind it~

[necroticblonde-a]

The Greta Rosenblum Case (Lore)

April 10, 1998

In April of 1996, Greta Rosenblum went missing from her father, Raphael Rosenblum's, San Diego apartment. On a Monday morning, the Rosenblum family's nanny, Dianna Cross, went into the girl's room to wake her for school but found the 8 year old girl was not in her bedroom. Upon further searching, it was realized that the girl was not anywhere to be found in the apartment. Ms.Cross proceeded to search throughout the building, asking other tenants if they had seen the girl to which all answered no. Though panicked, Ms.Cross contacted the police roughly an hour and a half after discovering that the girl was missing and contacted the girl's father shortly after. 

The police arrived at the apartment building but found no signs of forced entry anywhere in the apartment. As a matter of fact, the girl's room had been tidied up, with the bed made, toys placed in the toybox, and laundry done, folded and hung up. When asked about the day before Ms.Cross stated that the previous day she'd picked the girl up from school, helped her with homework, prepared and ate dinner with her, bathed her, and tucked her in by 8:30 PM. She stayed up until maybe 10 pm and went to check on the girl one last time before she went to bed herself. She claims that the girl was asleep when she went in and she heard no movement at all throughout the night. Mr. Rosenblum had been out the entire week on a business trip to New York and was not there on the night the girl went missing. 

Tenants in the building were asked about the girl but none claimed to have seen the girl past the suspected time she went missing, all apartments in the building were searched. The security footage from the hallways the building had been cut from the times 2:14 AM to 2:33 AM, whatever was left on record just jumps from 2:13 AM to 2:34 AM. All footage from between those times simply no longer exists. 

Ms.Cross was asked if there were any shady characters in the lives of the Rosenblum family to which she answered: "No. I'd say maybe one of Mr.Rosenblum's associates but he'd made it a point of not allowing any of his colleagues meet his daughter. I'm probably not supposed to tell you this but Greta was born out of wedlock. He didn’t want this to influence his career and reputation. Her existence has basically been kept under the table since her mother brought her to live with him. As far as I can tell, they aren’t even aware he has a kid at all."

Further search of the immediate area ensued. One would imagine that Greta Rosenblum would be difficult to miss as the girl had some form of albinism. She had white-blonde hair that was cut into a bob, round black eyes, and very pale skin. Presumably, she'd be walking around in the lavender colored nightgown she'd been tucked into bed in.  

When Mr.Rosenblum finally made it back home, he was swiftly questioned by police. He had a flat affect during his entire time talking to officers and detectives. He was unable to give any information as he wasn’t in town during the time of the girl’s disappearance. When questioned about the girl being born out of wedlock and the possibility of the girl’s mother abducting her, he stated: “There’s nothing that can be said about her mother. She’s not even in the country anymore. Besides, that woman knew she couldn’t handle a kid and I doubt someone like her would have a sudden change of mind 8 years later.” Further questioning about her mother and he admitted that he didn’t even know what the woman’s name was, that she never gave him a real name, and that she’d left the girl with him shortly after giving birth to her. 

The search continued for two days and expanded to cover Orange County and as time went on and eventually a statewide search ensued. During this time, Dianna Cross had become a primary suspect as she was the only other person in the apartment at the time and there being no signs of struggle. Ms.Cross had no criminal record and when her home was examined, there were no traces of Greta to be found. Several staff members at the girl’s school were also interviewed but none could be pinpointed as suspects. Though, some staff gave more insight about the girl’s emotional well-being. Greta’s then current teacher, David Matthew stated: “She was always moody and standoffish. Brilliant little thing but she had the habit of getting fuming mad and taking it out on her peers. She always seemed lonely and I knew her dad was a bit of a big shot. I assumed that he wasn’t giving her much attention. When kids aren’t getting the attention they need, they’ll try to get it in any way possible.” Ms.Cross also admitted that the girl’s behavioral issues ran deep and that she’d been bitten, scratched, and hit during these fits of rage.

This resulted in the theory that Greta had simply run away but how far can a child with a unique appearance get before they’re noticed, especially when their face is on dozens of fliers being handed out on street corners? Within the next few days, the search continued. A woman in Santa Clarita filed a report with police, claiming to have seen the girl walking hand-in-hand with a blond young woman, dressed in black, and a tall build. She was unable to get a good look at the pair since it was already dark out and they were walking under yellow streetlights. Police arrived to investigate the street the two were seen to be walking on but they were nowhere to be seen. This solidified theory of abduction for some but it’s debatable whether or not this was a legitimate sighting.

The next sighting was up close by an older couple, parked on the side of Gorman Post Rd, facing the highway. Maria Ruiz said she saw a young girl sitting on the side of the road as if she were waiting for somebody. When she approached, she saw that the girl was as Greta had been described on several news outlets. The girl was unaware of her presence until Mrs.Ruiz tried to coax the girl into coming closer to which the girl screamed and began running along the side of the highway. Alejandro Ruiz saw his wife chase the girl and began following in his vehicle. In the confusion, he crashed into a truck and had to stop his chase. His wife turned back to help him out of the vehicle and to the side of the road before calling police to report both the sighting and the car accident. Two police cars and two ambulances arrived at the scene, taking care of the accident before asking Mrs.Ruiz questions about her encounter with Greta and scanning the area. Greta was not found but a few passersby driving along the highway reported seeing her a few hours later with a blond woman carefully walking along Grapevine Canyon; a bit further on, security footage shows the girl shoplifting several snacks from a Grapevine gas station, the woman is not with her in this footage. 

A CHP officer, Alejandra Gomez, was patrolling on her motorcycle the day after when she spotted the girl walking about in broad daylight, which is new as all sightings of her took place at night. The girl was walking along the highway between Pixley and Tipton, holding the skirt of her nightgown up as to carry snacks and water. “I pulled over besides the girl and she looked at me with this look of bewilderment in her eyes. I could tell she wanted to run but she looked down at her little stash and I could tell she didn’t want to risk dropping them.” 

This next part is quite troubling: Officer Gomez said that she tried to converse with Greta but the girl wouldn’t speak to her. “‘You stay right here, honey. I’m going to call someone to pick you up’, I told her. I turned around and I saw a blond woman but something wasn’t right. No matter how hard I try, I can’t remember what the woman’s face looked like. When I look back on the memory, I can picture her hair, I can picture her shape and the clothes she was wearing but her face. . .comes up as a blank slate. As soon as I looked at her, I felt sick: I was stricken with this dizziness, I began sweating, and I remember vomiting and falling forward. She stood there, staring down at me for what felt like hours until she stepped out of my peripheral. By the time I was able to gather myself and stand up, there was no trace of her or Greta Rosenblum.”

The final confirmed sighting of Greta Rosenblum was at a BART Station in Dublin, California. A mud-covered Greta Rosenblum was spotted by a drunk passenger (who was unable to give a reliable description of the girl’s condition) and briefly by security footage, boarding the Daly City line. No staff at the station noticed the girl crawling underneath the barriers to get to the second floor of the station where she caught the train. Nobody can say for certain which stop she got off at as the security footage for all stations along that route cut off as soon as she stepped onto the train, throughout the entire night and early morning until 8 am. This was the final time she was seen. As far as we know, she could still be on the move with this woman somewhere in the Bay Area, assuming they’re still in California. Some theorize that they’re probably heading further and further north.

A few unconfirmed sightings of her around this time include her getting into a blue van in Modesto, her sleeping in the underbrush of Mt. Diablo, and her chasing rabbits around an empty field at Mountain House. There are doubts that Greta will ever be coming home and some even think she may no longer be with us. The more years that pass, the less likely she is to be found. It’s around the second anniversary of Greta’s disappearance and ever since the BART station, there has been no new trace of her. 

There are still many questions that are yet to be answered. Who is this woman? Did Greta willingly leave with her? What are this woman's intentions? How did she get into contact with Greta and how were they able to almost move entirely on foot without attracting police attention? Where are they going? Some suggest supernatural forces at work but in an age of reason and science, we shouldn’t entertain absurd theories about aliens and things of the like. This shouldn’t be a matter of proving some sort of point either. This is a matter of safely bringing a little girl back home to her family. 

[jungdrizzydraco]

An O.C. for Your Asses!!!

I wanna see if the characters are legit before I move forward with this short story im working on (I'm a character first kinda guy, so I work inside-out) leave any form of constructive critique you wish, they are still works in progress, thanks!!

Augustine Harriet Andersson

Age:22

Sign: Gemini (sun) Cancer (moon) Virgo (rising)

Height: 5'8

Eye Color: Formerly dark-brown, bleached to a pastel-hazel because of some dark magic fuckery

Hair Color/Cut: dark-brown,q shifting variations of a fade, whose design changes somewhat based on his thoughts and emotions (yes, this is an enchanted fade)

Build: lean, lightly muscled from years lifting cauldrons in his grandfather's potion shop

Notable Features: Dimples; left-dimple is deeper than right, multiple piercings on each ear, artificial left eye (looks organic but to magical eyes, it looks otherwise)

"Have you ever been like...fundamentally angry? I feel that way...like at my core, there's this rage that seethes and coils at the pit of my stomach, everyday, like a python that can't quite squeeze his prey all the way to death. Everytime I think I've grown up, forgiven something or someone or myself, there's this anger that tightens right back up all over again...like it's reminding me of something. Somedays...I feel like that feeling will petrify everything I've ever loved about myself, and I'll just be another slave to outrage and ego and pain...just like everyone else...haha, then I'll really be a normie."  -August Andersson, on his depression and internal anger issues.

Augustine Andersson is a witch-boy. But you could probably already tell that from looking at him: the way his eyes are almost constantly fixed towards some unseeable infinity, the way air molecules hum with fresh, manic energy around him, how he seems to absorb sunlight and the way his brown skin would filter the glow as a result of his connection to the natural...it was all very off putting to others around him for most of his young adult life. And as we all know, no one likes a freak, so such years had a hand in building his current trust issues, feelings of great anger and inadequacy, and all the tics and tricks he uses to keep such feelings at bay. He's not at a total loss; at his core he is a humanitarian, deeply compassionate and available to those who have managed to capture his heart, as well as wild and humorous. However, he keeps a tight lid on his darkest feelings and insecurities, out of fear that they may be too much for those around him (also, he might accidentally call forth a vile arch-daemon on accident, but that's neither here nor there.) After finally having had enough of his mundane time amongst the humans, he vanishes from his college campus one day and takes to the open road, hoping that like the many young, angsty teens in the movies he loves, he will find himself in his own solitude. But the best way to deal with oneself is when confronting someone else, and after a close-call with a reckless (and very cute) motorcycle rider on an interstate, August will be forced to deal with every single part of himself, the good, the bad, and the strange...

A few more things about him...

1. His father is Afro-swedish, hence his last name.

2. Loves to travel and is nomadic by nature.

3. He gets a special kind of warmth out of being moderately petty at all times.

4. He loves open spaces and bodies of water, as well as hikes through mountains (ok so he only went once in Vegas, so sue him, he really liked it!)

5. Surprisingly low maintenance, really just likes being around people that are happy, and the feeling easily rubs off on him.

6. Both positive and negative emotions easily rub off on him.

7. Can get caught up in moments of warm content, given his unstable interior life, and can get lost in wasting/spending time.

8. Gets restless easily.

9. Budding film buff, faves include Kill Bill vol. 1&2, Her, Moonrise Kingdom, Gone Girl, Blue is the Warmest Color, Moonlight, & Mean Girls.

10. August's father is very engaged with politics and civil rights, so in honor of that, he decided that his son's middle name would belong to one of the greatest figures of the civil rights movement: Harriet Tubman.

11. Favorite new movie is The Favourite.

12. Due to a lack of acceptance of his full self and the full spectrum of his sexuality, he is judgemental of others and holds them to the same near-impossible standards he holds for himself. 

13. Things he expects from others: To read his mind and conjure what he wants without saying, to have his needs and boundaries respected without actually stating so, for others to fit in whatever box he thinks they should be in, for everyone's intellect to be slightly lower than his own, but high enough not to annoy him with silly questions, ect.

14. Listens to Lorde, J. Cole, Rex Orange County, Frank Ocean, Lana Del Rey, Tyler the Creator, Young Thug and assorted film soundtracks.

15. Enjoys playing into his double-sided nature when it suits him, and has a secret glee in melding into different roles depending on who's around him.

16. Is attracted to more eccentric personalities in platonic and romantic relationships

17. Smokes weed to escape boredom. (and his problems)

18. Smokes weed because he likes the feeling.

19. Is secretly a little ratchet, but he'll kill you if you say so, it'll fuck up his reputation as the quasi-sociopathic erudite.

Magic House-Thoth

Augustine is a member of the Sacred House of Life, witches whose magic is passed down from the Egyptian Gods themselves. August himself is a descendant of an African slave-witch, once known as Ashe. She was taken to Egypt as a typical piece of cargo from zealot raiders, and was sentenced to a life of building the pyramids. Or so she would have thought: Thoth, the God of Magic and Knowledge, took pity upon her and beguiled her to follow an invisible force into the desert one night. He then revealed himself to her in his ibis-headed brilliance and bestowed upon her a set of choices: he could free her now and set her loose across the desert with all the things she would need for survival, or he could give her secrets and wisdoms unknown to man at the time, but she would have to frequently return to him for lessons. Ashe always prized knowledge and growth over any material thing, or even something such as freedom (I prefer to disagree myself). And secrets from a God must count for that much more, right? She indulged in option two. Thoth grinned and whispered to her the mysteries of life, the secrets of the stars, and the riddles of worlds lost and intangible, he spoke magick into her very soul. She would then use her newfound knowledge to fool her captors, freed any slave that would believe in her, and with her wits about them, guided them across the desert to build a library-like sanctuary, in honor of Thoth. The former slaves then learned from the god's teachings, passed through Ashe, and became witches and educators in their own right, and Ashe came to lead this new coven of magi. This is how the House of Thoth became to be. 

Magick: As a member of house of Thoth, August has the ability to manipulate various aspects of the moon, writing, hieroglyphics, knowledge and sciences, and the progression of time. His particular specialty is the creation of Moon Dust, a substance used as a medium for most of his spells. By gathering various quantities of mineral, be it: crystal, rocks, pearls, aluminum, or even silvers and golds, he can channel his magic into them and break down and rearrange their atomic components into a corrosive, abrasive substance that also tends to stick to objects due to an electric charge. This dust is also dangerous to breathe in. He tends to carry around a pouch or two on his person, as trying to create some on the fly is nearly impossible given how much time and intricacy is needed to create the substance. (I mean, working with just a pile of plain old rocks would take a couple of hours to convert, let alone harder or more distilled substances.) Spells that he has mastered so far include...

Spell of Refraction: A spell in which the moondust bonds to whomever or whatever August desires (sans the harmful effects, it's enchanted in this state) and whatever is enveloped in dust turns invisible via light refraction.

Spell of Revelations: He can spread his moondust over an area and have the pieces cling to imprints of negative emotion or dark magick. A spell used for forensic work.

Spell of Retribution: An offensive spell that uses moondust to its fullest offensive powers and creates small funnels of dust to ravage the opponent. The largest funnel made could surround a fully grown man.

Golemancy:  Can create golems out of the moon dust he has formed, usually no larger than a human toddler. They tend to take form roughly resembling lego-men (he was a big fan of the Lego Expanded Universe as a child), but one can easily be fooled by their size: each golem has the strength of three men, and can combine to further power themselves up.

There are a few spells that don't require the moon dust...

-The Veil: A surface-level illusion layered directly over the skin. This allows the caster to look like whatever he wants to look like and sound however he wants, but can be broken if struck with bad intentions (like a slap from an offended woman on the street)

 -Somnus: A very old, yet practical spell. Also one that does not require moondust, this handy spell induces sleep.  Those affected by this spell will not remember being forced to sleep, but they will have active and vivid dreams for distraction. Also necessary for Dream Diving.

-Dream Diving:  A skill Augustine has yet to master, this allows the caster to astral project into one's consciousness for complete access to the afflicted parties mind, if the brain is distracted by dreams. August has gotten stuck in several public nude dreams, and it takes long hours to remove oneself from another's mind.

-Illusion Casting 

-Temporary Madness Inducement

-Script Magick: By writing down a word or phrase on any surface that can be sufficiently marked on, whatever has been written manifests somehow, just so long as it is within his power. He can't create miracles with it though.

Top 10 Roadtrip Songs

Sobriety- Sza

No Role Moldelz-J. Cole

Sacrifices -Dreamville, assorted artists

Grown Up Fairy Tails- Chance the Rapper, Taylor Bennett 

My Boy-Billie Eilish

U.N.I.T.Y.- Frank Ocean

West Coast: Lana Del Rey

Cruise Ship-Young Thug

400 Lux-Lorde

Let Em Know- Bryson Tiller

[thinkyoureholy]

Blood Lust [1]

Requested by @what-muses : May I request a Sehun/reader fanfic that it's the future and vampires have taken the world and the surviving humans are either blood banks or their servants? Sehun the vampire of course xD. Please and thank you

[a/n: this will be a relatively short story...i think...]

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Pairing : Oh Sehun / Reader

Genre : Angst, fluff, suggestive language, Vampire! AU

Words : 2k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9. Pt 10. Pt 11. Pt 12. Pt 13. Pt 14. Pt 15.

[Set in the year 2145]

-100 Years Ago; 3rd person P.O.V-

“How the hell are we supposed to kill these things?!” The U.S head of security yelled out in the middle of the meeting.

The world leaders were all having a meeting to try and get rid of the things that threatened the whole world’s population. These creatures had appeared out of nowhere, the outer appearance letting them blend in with the rest of humanity but they were far from being human. These creatures came out of hiding once they figured that they could wipe the human race out with a snap of their fingers. One of theirs was worth at least a thousand human soldiers and then some. They were practically unkillable. The humans have been fighting against these things for the good part of thirty years. The overall population having decreased significantly over those years. The leaders of the world had no idea how to kill them so they only had one thing left to do, surrender.

Hours into this meeting the humans called on the one tormenting them. He came as soon as they called, a smug smile on his face as he walked into the room like he owned the place. The humans were too afraid to even look at him all but a few averted their gaze. The ones that kept their eyes trained on him were starstruck as they took in his flawless features. He had ridiculously sharp features at that; striking eyes, plump lips, a sharp nose with a sharp jawline to tie in his whole face. It was in that moment they knew that there was no way this man could be human, he was just too perfect. He met each and every one of theirs eyes, flashing his brilliant bright red eyes, the humans cowering in fear.

“Let’s begin shall we? Why don’t we start with names? I’ll go first, “ He said with a wicked smile, “Oh Sehun and believe me...the pleasure, is all mine.”

-Present Time; Y/N’s P.O.V-

I ground my teeth together as I kept my gaze straight ahead, my fists clenched tightly at my sides. Pissed was an understatement to how I felt, I was absolutely livid. I had just been sold to the most powerful vampire in the country for a measly two hundred fucking dollars. Not only was I livid at the amount my previous owner had taken for me but the fact that I was sold in the first place. I was a living breathing human being for fucks sake, why do I have to be subjected to this life of fear and humiliation?

I could barely keep the anger and disgust in my eyes at bay as my new “owner” came to stand in front of him. I set my jaw at seeing a smirk settle on his face, resisting the urge to scoff and roll my eyes. He must have sensed my feelings, the smirk on his face growing into a full blown grin.

“You’re gonna be a handful aren’t you?” He asked, his voice as smooth as silk, his condescending tone not going unnoticed, “Will I have to train you properly? It seems like your previous master didn’t work out all your kinks.”

“No.” I responded curtly, my fingernails digging into my palm.

“No what?”

I could feel that the vein across my forehead was about to burst, already hating his guts, “No...Master.”

He chuckled at the word, straightening out, “As much as others like their...pets...calling them master...I prefer sir.”

He looked at me expectantly, having fun watching me hold myself back. I remained defiant, keeping my head held high. This seemed to irritate him, his eyes flashing red in warning. I remained unfazed, that was until his hand came up to grab at my throat, squeezing hard enough to where I was finding it harder and harder to breathe as the seconds ticked by. I tried keeping my face blank but the longer he kept my neck in his hold the more my resolve was starting to break. Before I could pass out he let up on his hold, his hand still on my neck.

“I expect an answer whenever I speak to you.” He said in a gravelly voice.

I kept my lips shut causing him to apply pressure on my neck once more. I winced as I nodded but that didn’t seem to appease him.

“Use your words.”

“Yes...sir.” I managed to choke out, his hand finally leaving my throat as those words left my mouth.

“Get out, I’ll see what I do with you tomorrow.” He said, turning away from me.

I bowed deeply before turning on my heel and walked out of the room with the little dignity I had left. As soon as I closed the door behind me I felt my knees give out, having to hold onto the doorknob to keep myself from falling. I took in deep breaths to regulate my frantic heartbeat, pushing myself off the door once I knew I could walk without collapsing.

-

“Why do you keep on getting in the way?” He yelled out, infuriated.

I tried to not let the fear in my eyes show but it was proving to be a difficult thing to do as I took in his appearance. He had blood running down the sides of his mouth and staining his shirt. His eyes were the brightest red I’ve ever seen, almost fluorescent in a way. What caused me to stumble backwards at seeing his eyes wasn’t the color of his irises but the whites of his eyes weren’t white anymore, they were pitch black; much different to how I saw them weeks ago. I had never seen a vampire with eyes like his, the whites of his eyes turning black was the first time I’ve seen or heard of anything like this.

“Why do you insist on becoming a nuisance, huh? Why are you interrupting my meal?!” He shouted, his voice booming.

I flinched at every word but I somehow still had the courage to defy him, “You’re killing her! You’ve already taken as much as she can give! You have others to chose from!”

He chuckled at that, a smirk making its way onto his face as he let her almost lifeless body fall to the floor. I spared her a glance to see if she was really breathing, the subtle rise and fall of her chest putting me at ease. That didn’t last long, Sehun appearing mere inches in front of me at the blink of an eye. I had no way to go as he cornered me, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face as he grabbed my chin in between his thumb and index finger.

“I have others to chose from? What if I chose you, huh? Will you still intervene then?” He asked, his voice low as he leaned in.

At this point I was trembling in his hold but I stole a quick glance at the girl on the floor. She was so young, no older than sixteen and she has already been on the verge of death countless times, all because of him. In the short time that I’ve been here I’ve come to realize Sehun has no self control. He’s gone through at least four of the people he uses to keep himself alive. This wasn’t how he was supposed to treat them. He was only supposed to take what he needed to survive for a few days before feeding again but he just kept taking, no regard for the life he was ending in the process. He was a glutton, plain and simple, no amount of blood was able to quench his thirst so he simply just bled his blood banks dry.

“Others to chose from? Really? Well how would you feel if I chose you to take her place, huh? Would you still stick your nose in places where you don’t belong?” He asked, taking a step closer to me with every step consequently making me take one back to try and get away from him.

He smiled a sickeningly sweet smile at seeing the terrified look on my face. I would be lying if I said I didn’t fear for my life during every minute I spent in his presence. I ground my teeth together to keep the whimper from escaping my lips as he grabbed my chin in between his thumb and index finger roughly, making me look him in the eye. At this point I was trembling like a leaf in the middle of a thunderstorm. Sehun seeming to enjoy how I trembled before him more than I thought, an amused chuckle falling from his lips.

“I told you to answer me when I’m talking to you.” He all but growled out, pushing me further into the corner.

“I’m not like them...I was sold to you for a different purpose.” I said, backing down and becoming complacent almost immediately.

He scoffed at my answer, expecting more of a fight out of me, “If you don’t want to turn out like the others then I suggest you mind your own fucking business. I won’t hesitate to drink you dry, I can promise you that.”

He threw my head back into the wall harshly, making my vision spin for a few seconds before a throbbing pain spread from the back of my head. I felt something trickle down the back of my neck, the smell of it making Sehun turn back to me, his eyes still on full display. I panicked, covering the back of my head with my hand as I scurried out of the room, making sure to close the door behind me.

…..

I hung my head in shame as Yoseob, Sehun’s butler, carried the girl out of Sehun’s room. I watched on with my fists clenched tightly, the girl having been dead for a couple of hours. I could’ve saved her if only I wasn’t such a coward, the girl would’ve still been alive to see another day.

“Y/N come here.” Sehun called out to me.

I sighed heavily, controlling my emotions before I went into the room, keeping my eyes off the pool of blood on the floor . I kept my head down as I stood in front of him, my hands behind my back.

“Look at me.”

I did as he said, raising my head to see his eyes were still a vibrant red but the black surrounding it was gone, replaced by the white once more. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion but said nothing, keeping my mouth shut.

“How long have you been here?” He asked, his eyes shifting back to their normal dark brown.

“Two months, sir.”

“And what do you do here?” He asked, continuing his little interrogation.

“I...help Yoseob keep the mansion in order.” I answered, confused as to where he was going with this.

“Doing what exactly? Give me a detailed explanation, don’t make me ask again.”

“I take care of the garden, clean the rooms, and make sure the others are fed.”

He gave a small smile at my answer, crossing his arms over his chest, “And where in your job description does it say you’re allowed to interrupt me from my meal?”

“I-”

“Wait no...I don’t pay you do I? Well keeping you alive should be payment enough right?” He said with a smirk, talking to me as if I was some little kid.

I could feel the anger in me bubbling up to the surface, “Nowhere in the agreement between your kind and mine does it say you can kill us off for your own sick pleasure.”

“Oh? Really now? What is a puny little human like you going to do about it? You going to kill me?” He said, taking a step closer to me with every word, “Last time I checked your kind has no idea how to kill us yet. Everything you thought you knew was a lie. You can’t kill us with a wooden stake to the heart, the sun does nothing to us, garlic, holy water, wooden crosses, silver, they do absolutely nothing. You lot signed over your lives to us that day one hundred years ago, I should know...I was there.”

“Know your place in this world. Go against me again and I won’t hesitate to snap that pretty little neck of yours.”

[rosemallowss]

CREEPS Sweater Tutorial

[I recently found this in my drafts and realized that it’s too late, as there’s already a CREEPS long sleeve shirt you can buy on the merch site! But I’ll just post this to remember my failure]

Materials needed:

- Black long sleeved sweater or shirt

- Determination

- Money

- Patience

- Exacto knife

- Scissors

- Lint roller

- Iron

- Printer (NOT a laser printer)

- Flat surface

- Transfer paper (probably 2 packs depending on the amount in one)

- Pillow case

- Computer

- Word document (probably Microsoft word)

- This tutorial! :)

Step 1: Get transfer paper. Most packs come in 5 pieces of paper, so you may want to get two packs since CREEPS is 6 letters plus if you mess up. Make sure the transfer paper specifically says for dark clothing and that your material is 100% cotton/polyester.

Step 2: Get a plain long sleeved black shirt that fits you right! Or a black sweater. I used a black sweater since I love wearing those and find it a bit uncomfortable wearing shirts that stick to me. Make sure it is either 100% cotton or polyester.

Step 3: Download the font. One of the reasons most people don’t make the sweater is because they can’t find the correct font! However, I found it exactly (or almost exactly except for a minor detail)! Download the font “LEGEND M54” { https://www.dafont.com/legend-m54.font } and it should (I can’t remember) pop up in your word document.

Step 4: Now that you have your font, pick the right color. If you want, you could choose a lighter mint green color for the letters which is what I chose. But in certain lightings it looks white. However, you can use a darker mint green as most people who have made a CREEPS shirt have done. Either one! It’s honestly hard to tell what is the exact color of the original shirt.

Step 4: Getting the right size letters on the shirt. I stressed over this a lot. It depends on the size of YOU! I am a 5’0 fourteen year old girl, (and the shirt is still a bit big on me) but still used pretty big letters. I made the font size 600. You may want to print out a letter with an estimated font size on REGULAR PRINTER PAPER first; cut out the letter and place it on your sweater. If you like the size, keep it or adjust and practice accordingly. I printed out all the letters to make sure they all could fit on my sweater. Also take this time to practice cutting the letters perfectly as if they were your real letters going on your shirt and to save a bit of paper.

Step 5: Once you are satisfied with your letter size and color, print out the letters on your transfer paper. The instructions of your transfer paper should tell you the options to get the best quality transfer. Don’t start working on your shirt right away. My transfer told me to wait at least 30 minutes for the ink to dry on the paper but I waited 45 minutes cause I’m extra. ALSO DO NOT PRINT ON THE SIDE WITH LINES. Make sure the letters go on the blank side.

Step 6: Cutting it out. Now, when downloading the font, you’ll notice the little nubs on the letters. Just cut those off. It’s easier anyway. When you cut them off, you’ve got the exact font used on the sweater. When cutting, remember that there is a little back to the paper that you MUST peel off. (Believe me, I fucked up once) To make it easy for yourself, when cutting out a letter, make sure not to cut out a space of white paper. Then, using your exacto knife, slowly slice the surface of the white paper, but not deep enough to slice it in half. Peel that, not all the way, but just enough for your fingers to grab and peel it all off later. Then, cut off the white part. Be careful here because it gets a bit slippery when cutting this part.

Repeat with all the letters. On the letters “R” and “P” DO NOT FORGET to cut out the white space aka the holes of the letters. Otherwise, it’ll end up on your final product and ruin it.

Step 7: Get your sweater. My transfer paper specifically said not to use an ironing board, so I used my kitchen counter (cleaning it first of course). Put your pillow case on the counter, and IRON IT OUT TO PREVENT WRINKLES. Then lay your sweater on the pillowcase, smoothing it out so that there are no wrinkles. Have a lint roller and roll it all over your shirt. To be safe, do it 3 times. Do this to get rid of any crumbs or animal hair that’s on your shirt. DEFINITELY do this if you have a dog or other animal like me. Then, iron out your shirt to guarantee no wrinkles and get rid of any moisture in your shirt.

Step 8: Adjust your iron’s settings according to your paper transfer instructions. I adjusted mine to the highest heat setting, no steam, polyester/cotton.

Step 9: Place your letters on the shirt and line them up. I didn’t measure this part. I just used a reference of a picture of the sweater and kind of followed that. IRON THE "C" AND "S" LAST. If you do measure it, it will most likely depend on your height. Or, use this picture like I have done to get a reference.

Step 10: Peel the paper off of the letter. The letter should be flimsy in your hands. DO NOT FORGET TO PEEL IT OFF. Put the parchment paper on top of your yet to be ironed letter. Smooth it out with your hands to prevent any weird wrinkles or air bubbles. Then, iron it in an up-and-down and left-to-right motion, covering the whole letter for 13-20 seconds ONLY! I made the mistake at the beginning for doing it for a minute. It was too late when I realized that the next instruction told me to stop ironing when the letter started browning (if you go back on my account you can see the results) otherwise you’ll have some ugly white/yellow letters on your sweater.

Step 11: Wait for letter to cool down, then repeat for the rest of the letters on the chest (waiting for the letters to cool down between each iron), carefully eyeballing the reference to make sure your letters are spaced like the picture. It doesn’t have to be perfect, but I’m a bit of a perfectionist.

Step 12: If you DO happen to mess up and burn your letters. Do not fret! You could go buy another shirt and more transfer paper, but that may not help your wallet. Because you have two transfer packets, there are bound to be extra papers! Do step 4–6 again, and again repeating step 10, iron the letter on top of your burned, failed one. There may be a little outline of the failed letter around your new and perfect one, but from a normal distance it is not noticeable. You may have to do this the first time you do it. I have. :/

Step 13: The sleeves are a bit tricky. Since my sweater had been slightly big on me, the letters sagged on the sleeves, not lining up with REEP. If they don’t line up perfectly, it’s alright because when George Salazar performs, you can see that the letters are also not perfectly lined up.

Spread your sleeves out. Turn the letter sideways and put it on your sleeve so that it points in the direction your sleeve is pointing. You may want to put the sleeve back down next to the shirt with the letter still on it to see if they would line up with REEP. When you are satisfied, repeat step 10. Also, try to align the “C" with "S" so it doesn’t look off to other people. You may want to use a ruler to measure.

Step 14: Wait 24 hours to wear or wash. Don’t use a washing machine. Hand wash instead. Now you have a CREEPS sweater and you’re just in time for the off-broadway edition of Be More Chill in New York City! Or impressing your favorite actor/actress of Be More Chill! Or your favorite theatre nerds.

Step 15: Wear it. Take pictures. Make your friends scream and ask “HOW DID YOU FIND IT?” and whisper, “I found it online.”

Extra tips:

Don’t stress.

Don’t rely entirely on this tutorial. Use your transfer paper’s instructions as well.

If you’re kinda young, get your parent or guardian to help you out.

Thank me.

This took me roughly 6 hours to do because I was trying to figure out what the hell I was doing.

If you have any more questions. PLEASE SEND AN ASK so other BMC fans could scroll through and see them.

Enjoy!

—Jianne

[starboundfic]

Chapter 13

Life’s Essence

Chapter 12 - Chapter 14

“That’s it?” Jordan exclaimed after a few minutes. They were all gathered on the bridge, specifically around one of the consoles, which was currently in use by Koji.

The good news was that the downtime had let their technician get a translation program working, but that didn’t change that the amount of things on the data-thing Twyla had given them was…well, not much. There was a map with a few colored points on them, and a few lines drawn, but that was really it.

“It’s still something we can use,” Shiro said, some gentle rebuke in his tone. “Hitting supply lines would be a good place to start.”

“If that’s what it is…”

“It looks like it,” Koji noted. “It sort of matches up with what we have from—” He stuttered at the end, before instead saying “They both mention these…are these coordinates?”

“Those are coordinates, yes,” Allura confirmed. Jordan looked at the set of numbers again. Okay, so space coordinates are freakishly long. That…actually makes sense.

“I’ll pull up the location,” Coran said, jogging over to the main console. Five seconds later the main display screen flickered, showing three planets.

“Is it on one of those?” Eva asked.

“I don’t think so, no. The long-range sensors aren’t picking up a thing.”

“Maybe it’s hidden,” Stan suggested.

“That’s entirely possible,” Coran noted. “Weapons probably aren’t the only thing they’ve improved over the last ten-thousand decaphoebs.”

“Then there’s only one way to know for sure,” Allura said decidedly. “I’ll set a course for that location now. It will be at least a varga before we get there, so in the meantime, there’s something I need to cover with all five of you on the training deck.”

After they’d reached, the room, Stan asked “So why are we down here?”

“The point of this is to be prepared for a situation where you might not have your bayard on-hand, for one reason or another,” Allura explained. At the same time, a segment of the wall slid aside to reveal a whole assortment of various weapons hung on clips. “Do any of you have any sort of experience with any of these?”

Jordan could tell very easily that a few of the things in there were firearms. There were also a few swords of varying shape, and he saw a bow with a quiver of arrows at the far end of it. A few things, he didn’t recognize a single part of.

There was also a few staffs of varying length, one of which he took off its stand after a bit of decision-making, and Allura’s face lit up before taking one of the others out. “Perfect! I happen to know how to use one of these myself. I don’t suppose you’re up for a spar?”

He returned the grin, saying “You’re on,” while getting into a stance—only to have to immediately parry an overhead swing, which was followed by a sideways lunge that sent him sprawling.

For a few seconds, Jordan was left lying there stunned, before it registered what had just happened. “I wasn’t ready that time,” he grunted, getting back up.

Allura laughed. “If you say so!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

By the time Coran called them back to the bridge, Koji was left with a newfound wariness of Allura. Jordan was off to the side, still breathing a bit heavily while looking absolutely mutinous, and would probably have more than a few bruises later on.

He’d come close a few times, toward the end, but was otherwise very familiarized with the floor of the training deck now. Allura, on the other hand, seemed barely fazed.

The castleship steadily came around from behind the reddish-hued planet that had been seen on the screen roughly an hour ago, and once they were past it—

“There it is,” Shiro said, mouth quirking into a smile. Built on and hanging mostly off of what could probably be considered either a large asteroid or a small oddly-shaped planet was a metal structure, which had three battlecruisers docked at it at that moment, though it looked like all three were leaving.

Coran did something at the main console, and a new overlay appeared on the display screen, built around the view. “It appears the gravitation between the two planets warps the electron emission spectrum enough to keep the base off of the deep-space scanners. Very clever.”

Allura looked thoughtful. “By the look of it, it’s a supply station. Not something that would typically be difficult to locate.”

“There must be more to it than we’re seeing, then,” Shiro said. “Princess, where would be the best place to infiltrate the base be?”

In response, she expanded the view of a specific part of the base. “The best place for us to enter would be here, at the central control building.”

“Wait, us?” Stan gave her a quizzical look.

“I’m going with you,” Allura affirmed, stepping back from the controls. “I’ve been to transportation hubs like this one many times before the war began, so I’m the most familiar with them out of all of you.”

“Princess, I’d much rather you stay here,” Coran interjected nervously.

She scowled at him in response. “I’m a part of this fight against Zarkon as much as anyone else here. Therefore, I’m going. Does anyone have a problem with that?”

So long as it meant they weren’t going in there blind, Koji was okay with it. Stan said something along that same idea. Jordan stayed quiet, and Eva shrugged a little. “Fine,” Shiro affirmed. “Suit up.” Coran promptly paled several shades.

Before any of them could reach the lifts to the Lions, Shiro quickly added “Uh—hold up guys. We’re not going in to wreck the place. We just want to figure out why it’s hidden.”

Eva stared at him. “Okay, but how’re we supposed to get in there?”

“The Green Lion has cloaking.” Shiro nodded a bit at Koji as he said that.

Oh. Right. Stan was also giving him a look, which was returned discreetly, and it wasn’t until he’d traced one finger in a triangular motion that Koji realized what he was thinking about.

“Uh, I’ll—I’ll meet you at the hangar,” he managed to get out before turning and starting down the hall at a brisk pace.

Green had perked up little by little over the course of the entire conversation, though it stalled a bit now at the current objective. Now it was more of something half curiosity and half concern, once he’d reached his room on the ship, and had crouched by the larger cabinet in the desk that was set against the wall.

It’s fine, he thought, aimed both at the Lion and reminding himself while opening it up. Rover floated out with a chirp, the thin orange line painted around the lens part being noticed after a few seconds of staring once he’d picked up his tablet—which he’d needed to get anyways—and double-checked that it was fully charged.

He’d been confused (and admittedly suspicious) when Stan had been persistently asking him where he’d put Rover, but now he vaguely remembered the mention of painting the drone orange.

“Good thinking,” was Shiro’s comment on seeing the drone when he’d reached the hangar. “That’ll make opening doors easier.”

The last time they’d all been in a Lion’s cockpit, it had been minus one person and in Red’s. It was a considerable reminder that even though it was definitely roomier than an average ship’s, it was still really only meant for one person at a time.

“It’s, um, very…nice in here,” Eva said awkwardly after they’d left the castleship’s confines, trying to force a smile. Out of everyone else, she seemed the most out-of-place; at first it had seemed like she wasn’t sure where to stand, before settling for a spot to the right by the viewscreen.

Green purred in amusement at the comment, and Koji passed on the message, “Uh—Green said thanks.” There was a quick smile in response, gone before he could blink.

It was almost like she still wasn’t sure how to interact with them.

“I can flood their short-range sensors with a radiation burst,” Coran said over the comm, still sounding none-too-happy about all of this. “It should buy you a dobosh or so, but after that, you’re on your own.”

The Green Lion arced around the dark side of the asteroid on Shiro’s direction, coming to a landing on a ledge above the control building itself. Surprisingly enough, there was both a breathable atmosphere and enough gravity for them to be able to walk normally, and have to make careful use of the jetpacks the suits came with to make sure they didn’t hit the metal too hard.

The doors in the building responded readily to Rover, and the patrols were all sentries that were easily avoided thanks to Shiro—apparently the patrol patterns were the same everywhere. When they reached the control room, Koji saw a total of three figures inside, two of which were moving a bit too stiffly to not be anything other than robots. The third was in the middle of yawning.

Jordan had his bayard ready in seconds, though Shiro interrupted with a motion to be quiet before creeping up behind the Galra, and tapping one of his shoulders.

The Galra turned his head, and looked at them blankly for about three seconds before Shiro clocked him in the face with his prosthetic hard enough to knock him over the edge of the platform. Jordan dispatched both of the sentries almost at the same time.

Stan gave Shiro a flat look. “Did you really have to do that?” Shiro just shrugged in response, smiling. Allura chuckled a little from where she was standing by the door, keeping an eye out for anyone that might head in their direction.

It was easy enough to figure out where some cables could be plugged in, and even easier once Green suggested the idea of using Rover as a midway point. “Okay, it’s getting translated as it’s downloading, so it’ll take while,” Koji said once it was all set up.

“Um, how long, exactly?” Eva asked tersely. “I don’t think we have too much time here.” A shadow fell over the building as she finished speaking, the source being a battlecruiser.

At the same time, the front console beeped a few times, prompting them all to duck under the desk, right before a screen appeared, showing one confused-looking Galra. This can’t be good.

It was quiet for a few very, very long seconds, before Eva whispered “What’s he waiting for?”

“Some kind of signal maybe?” Koji whispered back. This really couldn’t be good. If they thought to investigate why no one was in there—

“I got this,” Jordan said quietly, slowly inching out from under the desk and propping up one of the broken sentries, managing to have it make a few motions with one arm. Koji couldn’t really make out the Galra’s expression, but he made a hand motion back after it was over, the screen vanishing.

“Nice going, Jordan!” Eva commented.

Koji sighed, and looked at the tablet screen before frowning. “Oh…well this is all useless,” he muttered, scrolling up and down to make sure nothing had been missed by the translation program.

“What is it?” Stan asked.

“It’s just a schedule of all the ships coming and going.”

“Where’s that one going?” Allura hadn’t taken her eyes off of the battlecruiser that had just docked.

“Uh…central command?” That had translated literally, by the look of it. “It’ll be heading there in thirty, uh…” And, of course, there were some words that didn’t have a close-enough equivalent.

“Thirty doboshes,” the princess clarified. Honestly, at this point it’d probably be easier to just adjust to the time measurements used out here.

“That’s plenty of time,” the princess went on. “The information we need is on that ship. I’m going to sneak onto it and get it for us.”

“Okay, that sounds great,” Jordan said dryly. “But how’re you gonna even get on there?”

Allura smiled. “I’m going to walk right in through the front door.”

What happened next was marked by the initial observation that she looked more purple than usual, and it wasn’t just the lighting, followed by the fact that she also appeared to be getting taller.

Not even ten seconds later, she looked remarkably like the unconscious Galra that had been shoved into the corner of the room.

“How did you do that?!” Eva exclaimed loudly, jumping to her feet from where she’d been sitting.

“Shapeshifting is a feat all Alteans are capable of, to a degree,” she explained, amused. “Some are more proficient at it than others, but it’s otherwise a trait that make—” She paused for a second, face falling momentarily. “Well, made us renowned diplomats. All I need is a disguise, which we have right there.” Allura nodded at the unconscious guard.

“That is so not fair,” Jordan muttered, at the same time as Shiro’s “I can’t let you go in there alone.”

Allura scowled. “Excuse me? I do not need your permission.” That line had Koji thinking of Eva, who turned to look at Shiro along with Jordan.

“It’s too dangerous,” Shiro insisted. “I’m going too.”

“You’ll stick out like a choferiak’s nose!”

“You might need him, though,” Stan pointed out. “You won’t have to take an arm off a robot since Shiro’s already got one.”

The princess scowled at him, but it wasn’t really much compared to the stormy looks they’d gotten from Don Wei a few times. She sighed heavily after a few seconds, muttering “Fine, you can come. I think I have an idea on how to sneak you on board.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Allura’s idea was to have Shiro hide in a bin full of scrap metal. Aside from being stopped to let some people off of the ship, they made it in without an issue.

Jordan leaned forward a bit to get a better look out the window. “What’s in those containers?”

“Something yellow and…glowing, I think,” Stan observed, with some sarcasm. “Other than that, I got nothing.”

Koji looked at it for a few seconds before unplugging the cable from the computer, and taking the helmet off of the more-intact sentry. “Well, maybe this thing has some info.”

Exactly two seconds after the cable was connected, the sentry droned “Security breach detected. Initiating lockdown.”

“…I might need a few minutes.”

Eva huffed a bit, looking back out the window—and straightened a bit subconsciously. “Whoa, what’s with the guy in the robes?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like the looks of him,” Jordan said flatly, side-eying her with a look that said don’t even think about it.

Unfortunately for him, she was already set on it. “I’m gonna check this out,” she announced, starting toward the door and ignoring the sputtered protests from Jordan that followed.

It wasn’t until she was starting to turn a corner that she saw that Jordan was following her. He cut her off before she could protest, saying “Shiro had a point earlier. Besides—we’re partners, right?” He flashed a grin at the end of the statement.

Eva grinned back after a brief moment of thinking it over. “You got that right. Now c’mon!”

Finding their way out of the building was easy enough. It was getting inside the main part of it was only managed by some quick thinking with the jetpack—something about shooting forward like that while not in a ship was fun, and probably something she’d want to practice doing at some point.

After that, a few minutes were spent just tailing the robed guy and the robots hauling the containers at what Jordan insisted was a “safe” distance, only having to stop once so a sentry patrol wouldn’t see them, and then the last hall had opened up into a room filled with more of the containers, and featuring some complicated setup some meters above the floor in the middle of it.

“What the heck is this place?” Jordan asked in a whisper.

“Beats me, but I bet the others are gonna wanna hear about it,” she replied, spotting the robed guy on a platform near the top of the setup.

The centerpiece of it all was some kind of reddish-purple glowing glass sphere, which was slowly filling the yellow substance. Then the robed guy lifted his arms, and there was a bright flash and a sharp crackling sound before the entire room was highlighted an eerie shade of violet.

The contents of the sphere quickly changed color to match the lighting, filtering out into a much-smaller canister. “Looks like it’s some kind of refinery,” Jordan muttered, blinking before his eyes widened a bit, and Eva saw his visor gain a green outline. “Hey uh, guys? You see this, right?”

There was a gasp from over the comm. “I—I’ve never seen anything like that,” Coran exclaimed quietly.

“What is that?” Stan sounded somewhere between intrigued and wary.

Then, in the background, the sentry spoke: “The material is quintessence, the substance with the highest known energy per unit volume in the universe.”

“What? That’s impossible.” Coran’s tone took a turn for the disbelieving and…Eva wasn’t sure what else it was, but it sounded something like fear.

That Red snapped to attention at the word “quintessence” was also something that put her on edge.

“Raw quintessence material is transported here from throughout the galaxy and refined into standardized Galra fuel requirements,” the sentry went on.

“You guys heard that, right?” Koji said, followed by a mutter of “Never thought I’d be interrogating a robot.”

“Yeah, we heard it,” Eva affirmed. “I’m gonna try to get some of that quin-whatever stuff.”

“Mo—Eva that is a really bad idea!” Jordan hissed, stumbling over her name. “We don’t know what that robed guy even is!”

“He’s probably just another Galra,” she retorted. “Jordan, we’ll be fine!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Everything was going fine. Perfectly, even. They figured out why the base was hidden, and they were in the midst of acquiring some quite up-to-date information from the base’s main computer—the computer in his gauntlet was able to connect to the battlecruiser’s database through his prosthetic, and Koji was managing the download from the control room.

Of course, there was a fine line between perfect and too perfect, as proven when an alarm starting going off at the same time as a computerized voice intoning “Fugitive prisoner 117-9875 detected. Remain where you are. Security alerted.”

Allura practically leaped backwards into the room, shutting the door right as the Galra that had been attempting small talk both shouted for backup and fired his weapon, leaving dents in the door. “I think we’re in trouble,” he said, scanning the room for any other possible exits. Which there weren’t.

“You think?!” Allure repeated, tensing—and then she charged the door, taking it right off its foundation, knocking out the guard immediately, and taking his weapon as he slid to the floor. She frowned slightly at looking back at him. “What?”

Shiro didn’t get a chance to say anything before a few laser shots just barely missed both of them, sourced from an incoming horde of sentries, which prompted them both to take off running. “Koji, both you and Stan need to get back to the Green Lion, now!”

“Wait, why? What’s going on?”

A shot sounding off from beside him had Shiro glance to the side instead of answering. Allura glanced down at the laser-rifle in hand, then in the opposite direction of where she’d likely intended to fire—at the leading sentry in patrol of three, which now sported a clean hole through it. He took care of the other two quickly, with Allura grabbing the one she’d shot and flinging it into the horde.

“I thought you said you’d traveled around the galaxy,” Shiro ranted a bit while taking the weapon and turning it over before giving it back. “You fly a spaceship. How could you possibly not know how to hold this?”

“I’m tense!” she retorted hotly, grabbing him by the shoulder before breaking into a run. “This is a tense situation!”

“Secure hatches,” someone intoned over a speaker system. “All personnel take positions for departure.”

Not good.

Even though it was a slightly-different model of battlecruiser than Sendak’s had been, this battlecruiser followed the same basic layout—a second announcement garnered a split-second stumble from Allura, with the anxious line of “We won’t be able to leave once the ship goes into hyper-speed!” after having pried the now-useless helmet off.

They raced around another corner and into the first bay holding one of the escape pods, Shiro pausing momentarily to slam his hand against a button to close the doors—but that didn’t stop the horde of sentries, with two of them moving to open it again after the launch sequence was started for the pod.

Allura turned back to try forcing it shut, to little avail; while being flimsy in build, the sentries were about as strong as a person-like robot would typically be.

“Shiro, you have to go!”

“I’m not leaving you here!” he shot back, silently willing the metal to weld together faster—his prosthetic’s heat output was enough to make it just malleable enough—

The next thing he knew he’d been flung through the air, landing heavily on the floor of the shuttle before the doors sealed, rolling a bit from the extra momentum. She didn’t…

Shiro scrambled to his feet, just in time to see the horde force the doors open, and a small parting smile from the princess.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In retrospect, things really had been going too well. Jordan had taken his eyes off the robed creep for a few seconds to take a closer look at the glowing stuff in the canister after Eva had lifted it off of the conveyor, and when he’d looked back, the guy was just gone.

“Wait, where did he go?” she started, confused—then there was a sound like radio-static and something hit her hard enough to send her sprawling.

Namely, the hooded creep, who also had an equally-creepy mask with six yellow eyes painted on it, vanishing again the second his bayard took form. What the hell was that?!

“H-Hey, are you alright?” He ran over to help her up, and she nodded jerkily.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she got out, looking up. The robed creep picked up the canister where it had been left on the floor, placing it carefully on the next conveyor thing before turning to face them again.

Jordan felt an eye twitch before firing a few shots—but the creep teleported a few feet to the left, and again when Eva tried firing off a shot from her bayard at him, and the third occasion he was just gone altogether.

“Okay, I’ve never seen anyone do that before,” Eva whispered. Then she looked up, eyes widening in fear, and Jordan barely registered her yanking him back with her before a bolt of purple-colored lightning scorched the floor where they’d just been.

Blue had been tense in the back of his head ever since the word quintessence had been dropped, but now that tension was devolving into panic. Message received, he admitted to her after a few seconds. “Uh, Koji? We kinda need an extraction right about now!”

If the technician responded, Jordan didn’t hear it, because they both had to dash away from another attempted-murder-via-lightning.

Maybe if I sneak up on him…

The smoke was the thick-and-dark type and was leaving some sizable clouds in the air, but so long as he didn’t move—

Jordan swung his bayard overhead like how Allura had with her staff earlier, only for the masked alien to catch it with some sort of purple forcefield, turning his head to look right at him before firing off another lightning shot, point-blank.

It hurt like a bitch, and hit hard enough to send him flying clear across the room and into one of the other canisters of quintessence.

He hissed out a breath at seeing his hands—not only had the lightning actually disintegrated part of the gauntlets, but by the look of it, he had some second-degree burns.

Another telltale crackling sound made him look up, but the thing just teleported again when Eva tried whacking it with her bayard. (There was no way that thing was natural. No fucking way.)

There was also a snowball’s chance in a volcano that he was going to let that thing get another shot in at her. He was pretty sure at this point that it was mostly instinct directing the jetpack, with how it let out as soon as he was close enough to the upper conveyor belt. “Jordan, what—oh!” Eva broke off with a quiet exclamation when she got a look at his hands.

“Uh, it’s—this is nothing,” he tried diverting, forcibly keeping the tremor out of his voice. “It’ll—it’ll be fine once we get out of here. Magic h-healing tech, remem—look out!” He shoved her to the side if only because it was the first thing that came to mind when he saw the lightning bolt coming, both of them landing in a heap up against the container of quintessence that had been automatically removed from the shelf.

The masked thing was standing at the top of the ramp, one hand already glowing with another shot.

Jordan aimed the bayard, ignoring the fact that the movement got the nerves in his hands to practically scream with protest.

Both fired—and missed spectacularly thanks to the foundation of the room shaking; the sound of metal tearing preceded several dozen tons of giant green mechanical lion crashing through the ceiling, which got a startled curse from Jordan and a short, surprised cry from Eva.

Whereas Jordan’s shot harmlessly dissipated against the top of a different canister the lightning bolt hit the glass of the one behind him and Eva directly, shattering it and promptly covering them both in the substance.

He heard Eva sputter a bit next to him, probably spitting some out, and he had some conflicting thoughts on his impulse of moving his arms to shield his face.

“Get in—we have to get Shiro and Allura too!” was the hurried thread of words heard over the comm from the pilot of the aforementioned mechanical cat, and both of them practically vaulted onto the lower jaw of the Green Lion.

“What…what was that thing?” Eva asked after a few moments of trying to catch her breath.

Jordan tried and failed at laughing. “I have no idea, but I never want to…huh?”

He thought the searing pain in his hands had devolved into pins-and-needles when the container shattered, but now that he was looking at the burns again…

Well, there weren’t any burns.

“Huh,” he muttered again, turning his hands over a few times before exchanging a glance with Eva, who looked just as mystified as he was feeling. Just what is that stuff?

They both entered the Green Lion’s cockpit right as it landed on top of the control building, the battlecruiser lifting away from the surface of the base. “Nice entrance,” Eva commented lightly.

Koji didn’t respond aside from a quick glance, muttering “They’d have to be in one of the shuttles at this point,” tersely.

It wasn’t until after the battlecruiser had shot off so fast it might as well have just vanished that Jordan saw the shuttle.

That it was only Shiro that came out of the shuttle when the Green Lion drew closer put up a warning flag in Jordan’s head. Shiro’s expression doubled it.

“Where’s Allura?” Koji asked uneasily.

“That ship. It was going to Zarkon’s central command, right?”

“Well, yeah, but…” He trailed off, eyes widening. “Please tell me she’s not still on there.”

Shiro didn’t say anything else, which was an answer in itself.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Green’s cockpit was silent the entire way back to the hangar, and the silence stayed until the five of them reached the bridge, broken when Shiro gave out sharp, hurried directions.

Coran pointed out the obvious in asking where Allura was. A low-toned “Nowhere good,” from Stan prompted the adviser to turn on Shiro.

“They captured her,” he said shortly. “She sacrificed herself to save me and the information. I didn’t have a choice.”

“How is that possible?!”

Shiro exhaled sharply. “Coran, I’m sorry things didn’t go as planned, but we can’t focus on what went wrong. We’ve got to figure out how to make it right.” Coran was pale-faced, but he nodded in agreement.

“So what, we’re just gonna charge in there?” Jordan asked.

“No.” Shiro took a deep breath. “If I had to be honest, we shouldn’t even be thinking about hitting Zarkon where he lives. But right now, we don’t have a choice.” His expression changed to something more along the lines of confusion then, and Eva followed his gaze, which was on Jordan’s gauntlets. The white part had been piecing itself together since they’d gotten into Green, but the fabric remained a mess.

Coran jumped a bit at noticing the damage. “And how in the world did that happen?”

“Uh…” Jordan looked at Eva, who felt a subconscious grimace form. “Well, we sorta got in a fight with some freaky robed…thing with a mask. It kept teleporting every time we tried hitting it. And don’t even get me started on the whole lightning-throwing thing it was doing—that’s how this happened.”

“It—it was taking a container of that…quintessence stuff from the ship into the base,” Eva added. Over the course of Jordan speaking, she’d become aware of a cold, sinking feeling in the back of her head.

It wasn’t from Red.

“You two went after a druid by yourselves?” Shiro’s face had slowly been paling as they had explained what had happened.

“Is that what they’re called?” Jordan seemed to shrink back. “But hey, it—it’s not even that bad, see?” He held his hands up, showing that they were unmarked.

Somehow.

“And—and I was the one that wanted to go after it. Won’t do it again.”

Huh? Eva glanced sideways at Jordan’s last statement.

“I think we have other things to worry about right now,” Stan cut in, tone borderline snapping now, from where he was standing by Koji. “Like how we’re supposed to do this.”

Shiro jolted, shaking his head. “Y-You’re right. We’ll have time to discuss this later.” The emphasis on the second word cemented that there would be a talk, and Eva looked at Jordan again, frowning. He just smiled a fraction and shook his head slightly in response.

Stan, meanwhile, had gestured at the main display screen, which now featured a diagram of…what Eva assumed was the main feature of the central command. “Look at the size of it,” Coran breathed.

“Uh, I’m—not good with alien numbers, is this good size or bad size?” Jordan asked.

“Bad.” Stan’s tone was grim now. “The thing’s huge. Like, maybe a hundred times bigger than the castle at the least.”

Jordan groaned. “Oh, of course it is…”

“Okay, so it’s just a bigger target,” Eva said. “We just have to go in, get Allura, and get out. Easy, right?”

“In theory.” Koji didn’t sound optimistic, and that in itself was probably not a good thing. “If there is a way in, I’m not seeing it. Not to mention—” He paused before tapping one of the screens on the console, prompting a different screen of data to show up on the main screen. “If this is translating right, there’s an attendant fleet, which…consists of a lot of things that we’ve only seen twice, and both times gave us more than a bit of trouble.” Silence followed that.

Red had been growing more tense throughout the entire conversation, and when Eva tried querying him for any ideas, all she got in response was a vague sense of impending doom.

Which, for the short time she’d known the sentient ancient ship, was pretty gosh-darn out-of-character.

Both Coran and Jordan had left the bridge while she hadn’t been paying attention—probably to go look for an intact undersuit to the armor for the latter—but the other three were still there. Shiro was staring up at the diagram, Koji was looking over the smaller version on the console, and Stan was pacing.

“Is…is anyone else getting a really bad feeling about this?” she asked finally.

Stan paused. “Well, Yellow’s pretty freaked-out right now, so I’d say yes.”

“Considering the circumstances, I think it’s reasonable that we’re all on edge,” Shiro said, tone calmly tired.

There was something more to it. That much she knew for sure. She just didn’t know what.

The door opening preceded the other two coming back, Jordan now with a fully-intact uniform, and Coran with a new glint of determination in his eyes before he marched over to the front console and highlighted part of the diagram. “This gas giant right here is the best chance we have for getting Allura back. The atmosphere’s dense to the point where we’d be perfectly hidden.”

“How’re we supposed to get there?” Koji asked.

Coran smiled at that. “We wormhole in! It’s true that the teludav typically requires Allura to function, but we should have enough juice for one jump.” The smile faltered. “It’ll be a one-way trip without her, though.”

“We’re not leaving without her either way.” Shiro’s expression didn’t waver. Coran nodded, and proceeded to open up a wormhole.

“So it’s do-or-die. Got it,” Stan remarked. To the side, Koji visibly swallowed.

“I say we can take ‘em,” Jordan said confidently.

The opaque blues and blacks gave way to a field of reds and purples, open space being dimly visible just beyond, and past that…

Eva suppressed a flinch. Oh wow, it is big.

“Well, we’re too far to know for certain, but Allura is definitely on the main ship,” Coran reported. “You’ll have to get closer for me to pinpoint her exact location.”

“We’re going to bring Voltron in fast, smash our way into Zarkon’s ship, grab the princess, and get out,” Shiro summarized. “Hopefully it’ll be quick enough so that they don’t have time to respond. Now let’s get moving!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The trick was in the mindset. Coran had relented and explained it to them when he’d figured that they had the general concept of it down—on the Balmera, they’d all been likeminded enough in saving the Balmerans that it had triggered Voltron’s formation. The same went for the fight against the mech on Twyla’s planet.

It was daunting, willingly opening up the link to the others, but Red took center-stage along with the other four Lions, and it might as well have been like turning a light on in a completely-dark room, because then the others were just there.

Shiro took the lead, guiding them through the web of shots fired from multiple battlecruisers before tackling the closest one, driving Red’s head through the hull on top of it, an unspoken request for the sword.

Someone shuddered over the link (maybe it was her) as the ship was sliced open lengthwise, clipping an engine along the way if the following explosion was any indicator, and the forward charge was continued, even after slamming broadside into another battlecruiser, driving forward enough to push it into another—and through both of them, even—before facing down the next line, the sword being sheathed in favor of the cannon that had last seen use on the Balmera. There had been at least seven, and now there were none.

Weapons switched again before they pressed onwards—so far so good—Zarkon’s ship was right ahead, it was a clear shot—

It was like running headlong into a brick wall.

Voltron froze in place with no warning, aside from the sudden presence of something that brushed the sword’s existence away like it was an annoying bug.

It was an insidious, menacing thing, pushing into every single little figurative crack in the link—

—you were fools to bring Voltron here—

The malevolence receded abruptly, prompting some relief, but then searing pain took front-stage like someone had taken a knife to Eva’s right shoulder, on top of the lingering panic/confusion/pain over the link from the others, with the shared realization of the Lions having been separated.

Forcibly.

For a few seconds she was too disoriented to process anything, with the first coherent sentence heard being “What the heck was that?” from Jordan, the words wavering.

(Forget tense, Red was officially in full-blown I-knew-it mode in a bad way once his own disorientation was thoroughly smothered.)

“I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure we never had a chance to catch them off-guard in the first place,” Stan warned, the Yellow Lion angling to face the other direction. Specifically, toward an incoming fleet of maybe twenty battlecruisers, with a moving wall of red lights that were fighters right behind them.

Eva was left with the ugly feeling that Stan was right.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yellow was since past freaked out, but was trying to hide it. Really, he was.

But it leaked over anyways, and Stan had made note of his own breathing being just a bit quicker than it usually was. The fighters were solid, but their design also left them with two pseudo-handles that the Lions could clamp onto with their jaws, and were quite throwable, even with no gravity. On top of that, they were all definitely hitting harder this time around too.

The Lion had been quick to explain it as best as he could—when they’d first been found and brought back to Arus, they hadn’t been at full firing-power. If anything, they’d been more at one-fifth.

The reasoning for it had come across as a confused jumble of ideas, but the concept was nebulously translated as something based in teamwork.

Strength as a unit.

In that department, they were definitely better than where they’d been when they’d left Alwas.

“There’s no end to these things!” Jordan exclaimed after the Blue Lion had frozen a small cluster of fighters, wheeling around to face another battlecruiser. Yellow narrowly avoided getting nailed by another one’s ion cannon, but before Stan could even start an idea on potentially hitting back, something else hit the ship first.

Namely, a bluish-white ray sourced from the castleship, accompanying a shout of “I’ve waited ten-thousand decaphoebs for this!” from Coran.

“Nice timing,” Stan breathed, taking the chance to scan the area. Blue was off to the right, Red was darting around three different battlecruisers while landing occasional hits on a random one, and…and he couldn’t see the Black Lion anywhere.

“I don’t suppose anyone has any idea on what to do now,” Koji said after the Green Lion had managed to hit part of one ship hard enough to get a reaction, the resulting flames being smothered by the vacuum of space almost immediately. “Things aren’t really going like we planned!”

“I’m going for the Black Lion,” Shiro said finally, tone low, and the words earned a spike of alarm from Yellow. “My jetpack’s damaged, so I’ll have to go through the ship. You guys get the princess!”

“Get the Black Lion—Shiro what are you talking about?” Eva asked.

“I’ve identified Allura’s exact location,” Coran reported tersely. “I’m getting you all the coordinates now. In the meantime, I’ll provide covering fire from out here. All alone. Against an entire fleet. So, yeah, do you mind hurrying?”

“We’ll try, but no promises!”

Yellow’s console beeped, and part of the main ship was highlighted on the screen. “How’re we even supposed to get in there, anyways?” Jordan asked.

“Maybe I—I could try getting one of the cargo bays open remotely,” Koji started. “But I’d need some time to—”

“I don’t think we have time for that!” Eva interrupted, the Red Lion shooting off in the general direction of…the Black Lion?

Yellow’s alarm—no, wait, that was fear now—only sharpened even more when they saw how close Black was to Zarkon’s ship.

The Blue Lion paused after turning to fire off another freeze-ray, angling toward the highlighted portion. “I got this one, guys!”

“Jordan, what are you—?” Stan didn’t have to finish asking, what with how Blue rammed right into the ship, hard enough to punch a hole right through the hull. “I guess that works,” he muttered. “Uh, Koji? I think we’re gonna have to cover Jordan here.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Coran had Allura’s exact location down to a dime—Blue had stuck her head through the wall almost directly across from the cell. Allura was pale-faced when the door slid open. “Please tell me you didn’t bring Voltron to Zarkon’s central command.”

“Hello to you too,” he greeted sarcastically. “And we kinda had to if we wanted to get you out of here!”

“Where’s the Black Lion?”

Before they’d left the castle before the fight, Blue had been very insistently reinforcing the idea of keeping close to the Black Lion. The situation had prevented that.

“Uh—I’m not sure but Shiro’s in here somewhere too…” He opened a link to the Black Lion’s pilot, intending to let him know that he’d found Allura, but a garbled exclamation from the other end stopped him short.

A look of comprehension crossed the princess’s face, before a determined one replaced it. “He needs help!”

“Uh—alright. Guys, did you hear that?”

“Just don’t take too long!” Koji snapped. The sharpness of the words startled Jordan enough to make him stumble a bit, but he otherwise kept running. Note to self, don’t bother Koji when he’s tense.

He let Allura take the lead, since she seemed to at least have a vague idea on where to go, until they reached a hangar full of fighters—and a whole bunch of identical aliens wearing robes that reminded him just a little too much of the masked thing from earlier.

…was it seriously still the same day?

Allura’s gaze darted back and forth, before pointing. “Shoot that one!”

He didn’t need any further inclination than that—he heard someone scream before the shots hit something, the room emptying in seconds by means of most of the occupants vanishing. The smoke cleared to show one left, glaring daggers at them with sickly-yellow eyes that he could make out easily, even with the distance. She vanished too, though, when Shiro tried swinging at her with his prosthetic.

“Get back here you—you space hag!” Jordan shouted, looking around for her.

“Jordan don’t even think about trying to fight her.” Shiro’s tone by itself left no room for argument, and Blue was fervently agreeing with him in a way that left Jordan with a suspicion that the Lion knew who that was. “Let’s just—focus on getting out of here.”

As they were making their way back to Blue, a wave of mixed anger and frustration hit him from somewhere over the link, and the suddenness of it almost made Jordan trip—but it really wasn’t sudden, now that he was thinking about it.

It had been there from the start, and he was only just really noticing it since now it wasn’t hiding behind focused determination. And the faintness of it really only left one option for who the source was.

Shiro also tripped a bit, hissing out a curse, before saying “We need to hurry.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Red slammed into the Black Lion seconds before it could make contact with the behemoth above them both, sailing limply into the surface of one of the side-sections of the larger ship. Eva had seen some oddly-shaped ships back on Alwas, but this one took the cake.

Her Lion’s tension was at an all-time high, with him pushing the idea of getting Black away from the ship, but that cut off when someone—actually a person, not in a ship or anything—came up from behind them and went right by, skidding to a halt on the metal a few meters away from Black. “Okay, who’s this guy supposed to be?” Eva asked, feeling slightly uneasy. (That cold feeling in the link was back.)

Over the comm, Coran hissed in a breath. “Eva, get out of there—that’s Zarkon!”

The tension vanished, replaced with a cold fire.

The reason they were millions and millions of lightyears away from home, the reason the Great Race of Ōban had to be cut short for her, for the rest of the team, for everyone else that had been on Alwas, the reason she didn’t know where her dad was, was just standing right there.

For a few seconds then, Eva was fairly certain she was seeing red, and it wasn’t just the light from the displays. They charged, firing a shot during the first flyby and arcing around. Then something hit them, sending Red tumbling through open space, though he righted himself after a few seconds.

The pressure was definitely back now, but this time it wasn’t overreaching, it was focused now, and wholly unimpressed with their attempt.

Red snarled, firing again, and then lunging in a pounce, but Zarkon was already gone; they were just barely able to avoid a violet laser that left one extremely big hole in the distant ring-structure that connected the three planets around the main ship, and jump again seconds later to avoid a second shot that had come moments after. Where he’d even gotten the oversized gun from, Eva didn’t know.

Maybe if we can get in close—!

The idea might as well have been telegraphed, with how much ease their opponent switched tactics, now wielding something like an oversized chain-whip. Agile as he was, Red could still only change directions so fast when already in motion, and he was snagged on the hind-right leg and thrown to the ground.

Red’s HUD was flickering, the Lion himself reeling from the impact.

The cold pressure had only been getting steadily worse has the fight had gone on, Eva being left with a distinct impression of being laughed at and she was not appreciating that sensation one bit.

For a few seconds, the view outside was replaced by a blurred sky gray with rain, the fading outline of a car getting further away no matter how fast she ran—

Eva grit her teeth together, shaking her head to clear it and attempted to get her bearings back, glaring at the emperor. She felt a slight chill as she looked at him—he was looking directly back, like he could see her through Red—then everything was dyed orange, smoke billowing away from the flaming wreck that had once been the Cloud II—

The pressure, having briefly intensified to a point where it felt like someone was driving a nail into her head, flickered with something registering as boredom before Zarkon charged.

Red reacted first, getting back to his feet just in time, narrowly dodging the slice aimed at them. A yelp tore from her throat when the chain grabbed one of the Lion’s legs yet again, slamming them back into the metal surface.

This was feeling less like a fight and more like a dog throwing around a toy—and she and Red were the toy!

She felt—no, THEY felt…useless. They were useless.

They hadn’t been able to do anything when Stan had almost been killed by the drone that Sendak had snuck into the castle on Arus—Red had been locked in his hangar and Eva had been locked outside the castle the whole time.

Koji had to deal with all of that by himself, and something bad obviously happened for him to have been acting off for that whole time on the Balmera.

Jordan got hurt earlier today because she’d been too reckless. She hadn’t stopped to consider that it was dangerous to follow that masked thing. She hadn’t been able to make herself do much more than just watch.

Red was snarling the entire time—Eva was seeing bits and pieces of a flaming cityscape, flames from the entry into an atmosphere of a planet far from that one, seen from the eyes of someone else in both occasions, both long-dead and he could do nothing to change anything about it—

Why couldn’t they do anything useful for once—?

Then it was like a switch had been hit somewhere in one or maybe both of them, and Red abruptly seemed more top-heavy than usual, with him catching onto what just happened before she could finish processing it, the void-with-eyes flinching back just a little—

Red fired, but it wasn’t from either of his usual cannons. No, it was from the much-bigger one now occupying a decent amount of space on his back. The shot was deflected after a few seconds, sure, but it didn’t just leave a hole in the ring-structure.

It completely obliterated part of it.

“Oh wow,” she muttered, vaguely hearing shocked exclamations from both Stan and Koji over the comm.

Red’s presence flared—focus!!!—and they acted immediately, jumping up for a better angle before firing again with the larger weapon, tracing a line of melted metal on the surface for a few seconds before having to stop so that the weapon didn’t overheat.

Impressive…for a child.

The mocking, scathing words were the only warning given before something slammed into Red’s back hard, sending them crashing down yet again. This time, the HUD overlay vanished, the cockpit going dark.

Sword, whip, shield, laser-cannon, chain-whip, and a mace. All from one convenient little weirdly-shaped device.

The choking pressure that had torn the other Lions away from Black, now zeroed in on her in the link, showing amusement at her delayed realization.

Allura had said that the black bayard had been lost with its paladin. And Zarkon had it right there.

Everything suddenly made a terrifying amount of sense.

“Red—Red c’mon,” she muttered, pulling back on the handles a few times, to no response. “Red we have to move—!”

Eva flinched at hearing something explode, but it wasn’t a bad thing.

For once.

The Black Lion swooped in and grabbed Red like a mother cat would a kitten, beelining for the castleship. Red’s displays flickered on again when Black set him down on the floor of its hangar. “Eva, are you okay?” Shiro asked worriedly.

“I—y-yeah, I’m—I’m…okay,” she managed to reply, vaguely aware of forcing a smile.

She was pretty sure it had been a lie.

Eva could hear Allura—it was good that the others were able to get her back. (She knew Zarkon was Black’s first pilot and didn’t tell us.)

Something was going on—Stan sounded irritated and stressed and kind of scared all at once and Coran also sounded scared. (Coran knew too.)

The space outside went all distorted for a few seconds, and then she saw the familiar swirling interior of a wormhole. They were safe.

Safe until it suddenly turned a shade of purple she was quite sick of seeing by that point.

Coran was shouting again—something about the wormhole’s integrity being compromised.

Then Red was being thrown around again, this time by whatever weird gravity there was in a wormhole, and Black’s claws scraped against the metal floor enough to leave trails of sparks.

She saw Blue, Green, and Yellow all go flying away into the void, the others all sounding panicked and terrified—

Her Lion collided with the border of the collapsing wormhole, and everything went dark.