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sagurus · 4 years

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04. caged

Prompt was: Running out of time: caged.

Using @whumptober2020‘s prompt today.

The original idea behind this is credited to @magpythe; I don’t believe he’s posted any of his writing for this au himself yet, but it’s inspired entirely from a scenario that he started, and then we talked about collaboratively. For some context, this takes place in a world much like our own in terms of scientific rules, except there are magical/supernatural beings (vampires, werewolves, shinigami, kitsune, etc) living among us as well. This was a well-kept secret from the general populace bc those magical beings didn’t want to deal with the backlash, but alas this facade couldn’t last. Humans aren’t handling their new understanding of the world very well :’)

Anyway, onto the story.

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Eighteen hours, fifty-seven minutes, and counting.

The cell was minimalistic and austere. Plain walls behind and beside him. Metal bars before him, looking out at a vacant wall. The opposite side of the holding area. His cell was one of about five in the short hallway, all lined against one side of it, with a door on either end. Each cell was a little under two metres wide and three deep. Saguru’s own cell was the second from the right.

Insofar as he could tell, he was the only one in this particular holding area. In the nineteen hours he had spent here, the only sounds he heard beyond his own breathing were those of officers. It would seem that most non-human individuals who displayed the clinically-induced violent reaction were swiftly neutralized without extenuating circumstances to protect them. He was lucky, he thought bitterly, that nepotism could guarantee him the civility of a holding cell rather than more immediate measures. For other, less fortunate individuals, Saguru imagined that containing them was seen as risky. Or a waste of resources better dedicated to human criminals who had willingly broken the law, rather than innocent non-human civilians forced into a hopeless situation.

How long they intended to hold him here, though, he didn’t know. For all he knew, it could be indefinite. Or he could be released tomorrow. Or meet some more final fate. The seconds ticked by.

Nineteen hours, five minutes. By his calculation, it was almost noon, assuming his timekeeping wasn’t too faulty without the aid of his pocket watch.

The heavy, industrial door fell open and then closed again, sounding out a dulled thud. Footsteps clicked against linoleum tile. Saguru estimated at least three officers, until he belatedly managed to pick out a fourth, much lighter set of steps. Someone slight. A child? He dearly hoped it wasn’t a child’s footsteps he was hearing. There was something strange about them, too. Something about the way that these steps struck and slided across the tile, making them sound…sharp?

The cluster came near enough he could just make out the line of one of the officer’s uniforms. He stayed seated on his cot, listening. He couldn’t see the majority of the group from here, let alone make out whether the owner of the smaller footsteps had, indeed, been a child. There was a solemn air as the door to the cell neighboring his own. Small footsteps padded inside. The cell door shut. A woman’s voice, strained and tense (not with fear—guilt? Stress?) said, “Someone will bring your dinner around seven.”

A beat, something like hesitation hovering in the air, and then the officers’ steps (all three sets) retreating down the hall. Saguru held his breath, waiting for the officers to be out of the holding area entirely.

Once they were gone, he continued to wait, listening in for any activity from his new neighbor.

Saguru’s own arrival into this situation had been a rather unexpected one for all parties involved. The issue was this: the world was rapidly becoming aware of the existence of supernaturally-inclined beings existing among them in society—generally referred to as youkai in Japan. Sensationalized media ensured that this was not well-received, but at the very least most inhuman individuals still managed to keep the truth under wraps and continue to assimilate. Until scientific innovation introduced a drug which garnered no reaction from virtually all humans, but revealed any magically obscured, glamoured, or otherwise concealed features that these other beings possessed. It also bore a few potential unfortunate side effects for some youkai. The most common of these was an uncontrollable violence, pushing the recipient into a dangerous frenzy. In other, rarer cases, the drug had even killed some. The kicker here was that Hakuba labs was a major proponent for the creation of the drug and helped pioneer it. Once the drug left clinical trials, it was determined that it needed to be administered to as much of the populace of Japan as possible, in order to catalog human and youkai population.

Hakuba Takahiro and his ex-wife, Rosalin Caldwell, were both humans. As far as anyone had been aware, Hakuba Saguru was also human. Saguru himself had never doubted this.

That didn’t explain the flurry of flame, the way he had tried to surge out his seat, the loss of sense or understanding, vision gone red in outrage. They had barely managed to restrain him. His father had almost been struck with the explosive fire, before Saguru had somehow managed to extinguish it.

On principle, Saguru had been opposed to the usage of the drug; frankly, the ethical implications were horrifying even without the potential for dangerous side-effects geared specifically toward one party of people. Nevermind the fact there were not yet any laws to protect youkai, nor any clear delineation of a plan to accommodate for them a place in society. He had considered refusing to participate in receiving it and thus being complicit in the cause, but his father had left him little room for argument.

Needless to say, it had all gone very badly. So far, Saguru had not been informed at all about what was being discussed with regards to his fate.

Hell, he still didn’t even understand why it had happened.

In the cell beside Saguru’s, his new neighbor seemed to be getting acquainted with the room. Those strange, precise footsteps seemed to walk its inner perimeter. A few moments later, he heard the sound of the cot squeaking and settling.

Breathing, even and measured, but in a forced way. A restrained way. Holding something in.

Saguru couldn’t think of a single thing he could say to improve the situation. He decided he would wait until he heard some indication that the other would even want conversation.

Hours of mutual silence later, the heavy door opened and shut again. Heavy footfalls approaching from down the hallway. Saguru guessed that it was probably for dinner.

“Who would have thought Beika city’s murder magnet really was a shinigami after all?” the officer observed with an amusement that Saguru found chilling. It seemed to be directed at the neighboring cell, as the officer hadn’t reached Saguru yet.

Beika city’s murder magnet… Dawning horror. There was only one person Saguru could think of who matched that morbid description.

Meanwhile, the officer was met with tense silence. After apparently handing off the food, he moved onto Saguru. Saguru started at him icily. He was silent, privately daring the man to breathe a word in his direction. The officer, this time, was equally silent.

Once the officer was gone, Saguru set his food aside. He didn’t have any appetite to speak of, right now. Instead, he needed to know. “Edogawa-kun, is that you?”

The response was a startled, stammered, “Haku—Hakuba nii-san?” Alarm colored his voice. Clearly, he was just as distressed to find someone familiar here.

Saguru’s heart sank. “Yes, indeed, it’s me.”

“What are you doing here?” Edogawa demanded.

Saguru laid back on the cot, exhaled long and slow. “I suppose I’m not human,” he said simply. “Believe me, it was a surprise to me, too.” He paused, and then ventured, “Are you unhurt?”

He tried to imagine what Edogawa must look like, now. The officer had called him a shinigami, but Saguru wasn’t entirely clear on what, visually, that entailed. Bat wings came to mind. He thought back to the strange sound of the boy’s footsteps. How much of his anatomy had been forced to change to its truer form because of the injection?

“More or less,” was Edogawa’s noncommittal response.

Saguru was still trying to get his head around the fact that the police had put a seven-year-old in a holding cell. Youkai or not, this was a child. What did they intend to do with him?

This had all been much easier when all Saguru had to worry about was his own fate.

Edogawa Conan, as it turned out, made a perfectly good neighbor, and even a pleasant conversation partner. The sheer amount of boredom that came with sitting in a cell with nothing to do for hours that stretched into days was almost enough to forget the horror of their situation. Either way, the only real escape—from the horror or the boredom—was to fill the space with conversation.

Fortunately, there was plenty to talk about. Old cases, literature, trading favorite Sherlock Holmes stories. The situation at hand. It was difficult not to discuss the problem they were in together, as they were both people who couldn’t help but try to study a problem from all angles in order to try to solve it. But inevitably the direction of those conversations turned dark too quickly for Saguru’s comfort. It wouldn’t do either of them any good to focus on the ways things could go wrong.

“Hey, Hakuba,” Edogawa said one day, apparently forgetting to use the honorific (or simply electing to drop it, there being very little bandwidth for Edogawa’s more childish act). “What are you, anyway?”

It was a blunt question, but over the past handful of days, they had mutually elected not to worry too much over politeness. Saguru faltered, before saying honestly, “I haven’t the slightest idea. I suspect one of my parents may not be biologically related to me, and whoever the other contributing party was, was some variety of youkai.” Yesterday, Saguru had been granted a visit by a scientist, who had studied him like a specimen and taken a variety of samples, all while Saguru remained restrained for the scientist’s safety. Never mind the fact that the more alarming skill he (apparently) possessed was manifesting fire without the use of any tools, so he wasn’t sure what good restraining him would do to anybody. Regardless, the examination had gone by without incident, and Saguru suspected that there had been some kind of DNA test conducted, although he had no confirmation as to the results.

Edogawa made a noise of consideration, lapsed into silence, then started again. “Did you change?” He asked, almost delicately.

“I don’t think I did,” Saguru told him. “As far as I can tell, visually everything is still the same as it had been. Admittedly, I haven’t seen my reflection since some time before the incident, so I can’t say with one hundred percent certainty.”

Quiet, again, and Saguru wondered if he should ask if Edogawa had changed, then decided against it. The other boy could tell him if he’d like, but otherwise Saguru didn’t want Edogawa to trouble him with it.

“So, they found out you were youkai because…”

“Because I had—an outburst, yes.” Understatement of the century.

Saguru could hear the grimace in Edogawa’s voice when he asked, “—Was everybody alright?”

“I—” Saguru recalled the violence of his reaction, the flames licking out and nearly making contact in a dangerous way with his father as well as one of the nurses. He recalled the feeling of a vicious snarl contorting his expression and the way he’d surged against the precautionary restraints.

He recalled going perfectly still as soon as he’d regained a handle on himself. The doctor approaching him with a new syringe, and the distant thought, Is he giving me a sedative or is he euthanising me? The foreign, turbulent rage churning inside of him until he’d gone under thanks to the shot (sedative, it turned out).

“Nobody got hurt,” Saguru assured him after a too-long silence. “It was—frightening. But nobody was hurt.”

“—I hurt a nurse,” Edogawa said, and his voice was the sort of stony that belied the great effort of holding in his emotions. “It could have been a lot worse, but I still hurt somebody. Really badly.”

“You can’t fault yourself for it,” Saguru said immediately, sternly. “It speaks volumes about your sense of accountability and responsibility, that you feel guilty for it, but it wasn’t your fault that it happened.”

“If you say so.”

It was their seventh day like this. Still, Saguru received no news any time he asked a passing officer for updates.

Earlier today, Hattori Heiji had visited, apparently to discreetly provide Edogawa some contraband (such as books). Edogawa had kindly requested that Hattori pass one of those books to Saguru. The other detective had been frankly shocked to realize he was here, and despite their usual animosity, the other boy had seemed mostly genuinely concerned for him. When Saguru asked if there was anything Hattori could tell him about the situation, it had been a definite negative. Apparently his situation was being kept well out of the hands of the media, at least for now. Saguru could only imagine his father must have told the school that he was on some sort of vacation, or had accepted a case which required him to head overseas again. Nobody would be worried about him, then.

Now, the visit was over and they had lapsed into silence while they, for the moment, privately entertained themselves. Rather than read, Saguru had tucked the book away for later, and was instead practicing what little exercise he could to keep his body active. Right now it was warm-up stretches. He desperately ached to go on a run.

At some point, Edogawa cut into the silence.

“What do you think is going to happen, Hakuba?” and then, hastily added, “—nii-san.” He sounded pensive, uncertain. He didn’t sound afraid, but Saguru thought that he might be anyway.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, opting for honesty rather than false hope. “It’s been a week and we’re still here. I don’t know what anyone’s plan for us is.”

“Yeah…” Edogawa trailed off, deep in thought. Saguru wondered if it would have been better to say that he was sure things would wind up working out. The problem was, he wasn’t sure. He had been under the impression that he would be placed under holding until they worked out the best circumstance to harness or otherwise stifle his apparent abilities, and then return him to something like normal life, but with a tight leash.

But now it had been seven days, with no developments, and Saguru was beginning to wonder if this was all much more dire than he had thought.

They both went quiet again, only for Edogawa to speak up just as abruptly as he had before. “—I need to tell you something.”

Puzzled, Saguru went still. “Proceed.”

“It’s pretty unbelievable, so I need you to bear with me. Okay?”

Edogawa seemed to do a lot of things that fell quite near the ‘unbelievable’ category, in Saguru’s experience. Much like Kuroba tended to, although they had different styles in the ways they defied reality. “I’ll do my best to keep an open mind,” he assured Edogawa.

“My name isn’t really Edogawa Conan,” he began.

And the sky was blue, and Kaitou KID was Kuroba Kaito. “Mm.”

“It’s actually Kudou Shin’ichi, and I’m really seventeen, not seven.”

So this is what Edogawa meant when he said it was unbelievable. He couldn’t help but wonder if Edogawa was engaging in a delusion to cope with the frankly traumatic situation they had found themselves in. “Is that so?” he inquired, honoring his promise to keep an open mind. Edogawa was right, though. This was difficult to believe.

Edogawa made an irritated sound, like he could tell Saguru didn’t believe him. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to us, and almost no one knows. I want you to know. I—a year and a half ago, I went with Ran to Tropical Land, and worked that case with the roller coaster beheading.”

Saguru recalled the news reports of that case all too well. Truly, it had been a particularly gruesome case, so he was eternally gratefully it hadn’t been him on the scene.

“There were these suspicious men there, and after I solved the case I left Ran so I could tail them and figure out what they were up to. But one of them surprised me from behind, knocked me out, and gave me this—drug,” allegedly-Kudou-Shin’ichi explained. “It was supposed to kill me via apoptosis, but instead it… de-aged me. ”

It was certainly a lot to process. It felt a little bit like the plot of a bad science fiction. But he spoke with urgency, and he was clearly being genuine. Although Saguru was still inclined to lean toward delusion, he decided to consider his way through the facts he had from his limited research into the whereabouts of Kudou Shin’ichi. It was true that the same day Kudou disappeared, Mouri Ran had wound up taking in Edogawa Conan. It would explain the strange amount of knowledge and understanding Edogawa possessed, especially in terms of investigating crime scenes and solving cases. It also clarified anachronistic errors—moments when Edogawa would say he’d seen something when it was first released, even though it should have come out well before his birth date.

After analyzing the facts, Saguru realized there was nothing (beyond his own understanding of scientific development) that disproved the claim. None of the facts he had specifically proved it either, though. He didn’t know the other detective well enough to quiz Edogawa in order to prove it for himself, either.

He thought back to their previous conversation. They didn’t know, really, what would become of them here. If they would make it out of here. Perhaps this was a delusion, but if so, Saguru didn’t think it would do any good to deny the other that. It certainly wouldn’t change anything for the better in the short term.

Saguru resolved that he would take the other boy at his word, and, should he have the means and opportunity if they got out of this, he’d pursue it more critically then.

“—I see,” he said, nodding slowly although Kudou couldn’t see him. “It is good to have gotten to know you, then, Kudou-kun. I’m sorry it wasn’t under better circumstances.”

When the other boy next spoke, it was obvious to Saguru that something coiled very tightly had unwound. The relief was nearly palpable. “It’s good to meet you too, Hakuba-kun. Here’s to hoping we make it out of this so that we can keep getting to know each other.”

They could only hope. “I’ll do my best to remain optimistic,” Saguru murmured in agreement.

#dcmk #hakuba saguru #kudou shinichi #kudo shinichi #edogawa conan #october writing #october 2020 #whumptober #my writing

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

Gene Pool

(Read Anne as Courtney!Anne)

Word count: 2917

Prompt: Speaks in a terrible Shakespearean/Elizabethan style to woo/make the other laugh

———————

A loud groaning noise vibrated through the walls of the theater, catching Anne’s attention as she was getting dressed to leave after that day’s evening show. To her left, Aragon wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“They still haven’t fixed those damn pipes?” She said. “Some high quality theater this is.”

“I think it’s fine,” Cleves shrugged. “It’s fun to tell young fans that it’s a ghost.”

“Of course you would do that.” Anne laughed.

“Shall we wait for you?” Aragon asked the green queen, as she and Cleves had finished changing.

“Nah, go without me,” Anne said. “I’ve got some things to do.”

In which, those “things” were cheering up a certain blonde girl.

Anne noticed Joan acting rather stressed and aloof for awhile, but it wasn’t until she spiraled into a panic attack out of nowhere the day before that she finally decided to really do something. She was going to treat the poor music director to a dinner of her choice and just be there for her, and hopefully get the truth of her current state out of her in the process.

“Oh, m’lady!” Anne chirped, prancing into Joan’s dressing room. “Gath'r thy belongings, mine own lief! It’s timeth to wend!”

She stopped in the doorway, noticing that Joan was still in her costume.

The girl didn’t acknowledge her...or maybe she didn’t even hear her. She just remained hunched over her desk. Anne thought she may have been asleep, as she did sometimes nod off, but she saw the subtle twitch of her shoulders and heard the smallest sniff emit from her timid music director.

“The young wench gaveth nay cleareth response.” Anne narrated. She dramatically leaned against the wall. “Ign'r'd by mine own owneth kin! Thee curs'd robe stealeth'r! How couldst thee doth this to me?!”

No response.

Anne pursed her lips and stepped closer.

“Prithee! Doth not doth this to me! Pri— Joan?”

Anne stopped her charade when she heard the tiniest whimper. In an instant, her maternal instincts are kicked in and she sets a hand on Joan’s shoulder, which causes a second whimper to bubble up. Then, Joan is twisting around in her chair and burying her head against her stomach, weeping.

“Anne— Oh, Anne, I-I messed up! I-I thought I could—” Joan’s strange babbling broke off into incoherent sobbing.

“Hey, hey,” Anne wrapped her arms around the trembling girl. “Hey, shh... Shh... It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” Joan ripped away. Her eyes are wide with terror. “I-it’s not okay! I-I...”

She looked down at her hands as if they were drenched in blood and broke down into a fresh fit of tears.

“Come here, sweet girl...” Anne gathered Joan back into her arms and held her tightly. She rubs her back comfortingly. “Shh, shh... I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

“A-Annie,” Joan squeaked out. “I-I’m s-so sorry...”

“It’s okay, Joan. You’re allowed to cry.”

“N-no—“ Joan sniffled. “N-not...not about that. About...”

Anne furrowed her eyebrows in concern.

“What?”

Joan leaned back. She’s hugging herself tightly, not making eye contact. Then, her gaze shifts to her desk, and Anne follows.

Joan’s work table is always a mess, but now it just looks like a hurricane had blown across it. Dozens of papers are scattered across the top, and there are several more that are crumpled into balls or ripped or completely shredded. Ink of various colors is splattered on the white wood, staining it permanently. Books are open and leaned against the wall- books about human anatomy and skeletons and body parts.

It takes a moment for Anne to realize that this was not music director work.

“Joan, what’s all this?” Anne asked. She picked up the nearest paper and read it over.

The paper had a crude drawing of a human at the center with notes written all over the sides, several of which were scribbled out, seemingly incorrect. The person had an animal skull over the head, which Anne assumed to be a deer’s. On the top, a few words were written, “Cadaver?? Deer??? Stag??”

“Are you taking up an interest in forensics?” Anne laughed slightly. “Joan, sweetheart, that’s nothing to be ashamed of! Bessie already—”

“No!” Joan cried. “Y-you don’t...” She gripped her forearms tightly and rocked back and forth in the chair. Something was making the poor thing very distressed. “I-I can’t... I can’t hide this from you anymore, can I?”

Anne blinked. She slowly set the paper down and cupped Joan’s tear stained face.

“Joan, baby, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

A few fresh tears slipped out of Joan’s eyes. Anne gingerly wiped them away with her thumb.

“Talk to me, darling.” Anne murmured to her. “Please. I’m worried about you.”

Joan sniffled. She pulled away from Anne and scrubbed at her eyes before standing up.

“Okay,” She whispered. “Do you have any food?”

“Food?” Anne blinked

“Yeah.”

Confused, Anne dug through her purse and pulled out an energy bar. Joan smiled weakly and took it from her, then also swiped a small journal from underneath a pile of papers, causing it to topple over in an avalanche of white.

“Thanks. Come on.”

Anne followed Joan out of the dressing room, down a hallway, and towards a back section of the theater that nobody really went to just because it seemed creepy. And they were right to think that, because Joan opened a set of double doors that were usually always locked with a key she slips out from her back pocket.

“Where are we going?” Anne asked as they walked down another corridor, this one much more rundown and dim.

“The basement.” Joan answered grimly.

“This place has a basement?”

“...Yeah.” There’s anxiety flashing through Joan’s eyes. Anne tried to calm her by placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but it did little to help. “Anne— I-“ The words die. Joan has to think for a moment before she tries to speak again. “I was...alone for a long time before you came along and took me under your wing. I had a lot of time to think. And one thing I could never get out of my head was how we got here. Reincarnation, I mean.”

“Yeah...?” Anne said, not really understanding.

Joan stopped at a staircase that seemingly led into a pitch black void. She spun around to face Anne. An unreadable emotion has replaced the anxiety in her bloodshot grey eyes.

“If we could be brought back to life, could the same happen to other people?” She said. “I— I was so fascinated by this that I started coming up with all these scenarios.” She opened the journal and showed Anne a page scrawled with pictures of humans and skeletons, triangles, beams of light, and other strange symbols. She’s smiling slightly. “I call it the ‘reincarnation theory.’ It’s what I’ve been using as an answer for all of this.” She points to three lightning bolts. “Think of it like Frankenstein. With enough electricity, a person can be revived. But what about a person who’s been dead for five hundred years?”

Anne wasn’t sure how to answer that, but Joan wasn’t looking for a reply.

“And do they have to be important? Like you and the other queens! Perhaps you being here is the ‘electricity’ that me and the ladies in waiting needed to come back. So would that work with other people, too? Other- other people from our time? People close to us?”

Then, her grin fell. A look of guilt and fear twists her features again.

“I...I haven’t been staying late to work on music director stuff.” She whispered.

Joan spun around and promptly walked down the staircase, nothing bothering to turn on any lights. If there were lights at all.

Anne hesitated, then followed.

“What are you talking about?” She asked. She had never been so confused and unnerved in her life.

Joan doesn’t answer. All she does is look at Anne pitifully, then turns her gaze forward again.

After a few seconds of walking, Joan opens another locked door at the bottom of the staircase, and they step into a nearly pitch-black room. The only light inside was a furnace-like piece of machinery in the back, which glowed a soft orange color. It seemed to be a boiler room of sorts.

“Joan...” Anne whispered warily.

She quickly realized why Joan hadn’t been speaking.

The low groan of the leaky pipes rumbled from somewhere in the darkness.

But it wasn’t the pipes.

Anne watched in frozen horror as something slinked out of the shadows. Its greyish skin and misshapen figure was like anything she had ever seen before. Inhumanly long fingers with hooked nails scratched quietly against the cracked tile in front of it. Long, disjointed feet pushed the rest of its scraggly, naked body along. When it raised its head, it had no eyes, just black sockets, and an stubby, elongated nose and mouth, like a bat snout of sorts. Patches of wiry brown hair that seemed more like fur stuck up along the head. It almost looked like a very large hairless dog in a weird sort of way.

The thing crawled on all fours out of the darkness, sniffing loudly as it went. Then, it jumped up, nearly making Anne run out from the scare of the jarring movements, and perched on a low hanging pipe. It extended a bony hand towards the pair, making loud noises as it waved it in the air. Joan gently squeezed the hand and then let the creature feel her head and face. It seemed to recognize her that way and let out a delighted hum, leaning over to nuzzle her cheek.

“Hey, Johnny Boy,” Joan murmured, smiling softly. “Sorry I’m a little late.”

“Joan—” Anne choked out. She’s backed up to the doorway, ready to run. “What the fuck?”

“Anne-” Joan whirled around to face the queen. The creature above her head began to growl. It sounded like when a human tried to imitate a dog, which made it that much more terrifying. “Please don’t run.”

“What the fuck?” Anne whispered again. Her eyes don’t leave the thing sitting on the pipes like a jungle bird.

“Anne, listen to me,” Joan said. She walked forward and took Anne’s hands. “You— You have to let him smell you. Or else he’ll think you’re a threat and—” She broke off.

“And what?” Anne asked fearfully.

“You...don’t want to know.” Joan said grimly. “Now please. I promise he won’t hurt you if you do this.”

Anne looked at Joan, searched her eyes for the same malicious glint Henry had in them when he sent her to his death, but found nothing. The girl was genuinely trying to help her.

Tentatively, on wobbling knees, Anne took a step forward. Joan helps her along, keeping on hand on her elbow and the other on her wrist. They slowly approach the creature on the pipes.

“Hey, Johnny,” Joan murmured sweetly. The creature turns its head in her direction, rumbling in acknowledgment. “I have a friend here to meet you. Her name is Anne. You remember Anne, don’t you? The queen?”

The creature chuffed in recognition.

Anne’s hand is held out to it and it sniffs her gingerly. Then, it leans forward, fingers and toes curling around the pipe for stability, and begins to smell the rest of Anne. It took everything in Anne not to run away when it feels her facial features and hair with one of its cold, bony hands.

“See?” Joan said to her, smiling in relief. “Was that so hard?”

“I-I don’t... I don’t understand.” Anne whispered.

“I’m not expecting you to,” Joan said. “This is my brother. John. I tried to bring him back when the loneliness became too much and it...kinda worked.”

“Why does he look like that?” Anne asked, earning an offended snort from John. “Sorry.”

“I...I don’t know.” Joan admitted. “I’ve been trying to figure that part out. So...I’ve been...testing more...”

Anne’s breath caught in her throat.

“Oh, Joan, no-”

A clicking noise cut her off. She slowly looked over her shoulder into the darkness of the boiler room and searched the shadows. It took her a moment, but she eventually found what had been mimicking the sounds The Predator would make.

It lunged out at Anne, screeching inhumanly. Anne screamed, too, as she’s knocked back against the wall. The thing was clinging to her body, nails pressed into her shoulders and thighs as it raised above her hand and-

“Juana, stop!!”

Joan shoved the creature away and it toppled backwards. Its long brown limbs flail widely in the air before it manages to roll over and back away on all fours, arching its bony spiny up like a cat.

The thing is humanoid like John, but not as bony, has darker skin, similar to Aragon’s tone, with a yellowish-bronze tint, and its legs are more noticeably hock-jointed. Its shoulder blades are grotesquely stretched out to inhuman lengths like wings that are waiting to sprout. The tailbone is extended, too, and waved back and forth in the air as some kind of warning. Tufts of something are sprouted along the nape of the neck, collarbone, elbows, and knees. A gas mask is attached to the face, shielding any facial features.

“Will you cut that—” Joan sighed and looked at Anne, who is horrified all over again. “Sorry. Juana is a little cranky sometimes.” She makes sure that’s directed to the creature, who clicks angrily. “Umm. This is Juana. Aragon’s sister.”

“Ara— What?!”

John hisses and Juana clicked when Anne yelled. She quickly shut her eyes and just stared at Joan with wide eyes. The music director anxiously rubs her sweaty palms against her pants.

“I didn’t have anyone else from my life I could test my theory on.” She said. “So...I started using others. Because maybe if I could bring back down siblings then everyone would like me.”

“Joan, that’s— that’s insane!” Anne exclaimed. “Why would you—”

“I don’t know, okay?!” Joan snapped. Tears were brimming in her eyes again. “I don’t know! It was stupid, I get it! But there’s nothing I can do about it now! They’re here. And I can’t just get rid of them. They’re alive, Anne.”

Anne is silent for a moment.

“Who else is here?” She asked quietly.

“There’s four in total.” Joan answered. “Isabel is another.”

“Isabel...?”

“Leigh.” Joan specified. “Kat’s sister.”

From further back in the room, there’s a creaking noise, followed by a low grumbling.

A tall creature with shiny black skin with grey speckles lumbers out of the shadows. It’s so large it bonks its head on one of the pipes, causing it to rear back in surprise before ducking under the oppressive piece of metal. When it gets close enough, Anne could see horn-like formations curling out of the top of the bald head. The only facial features it has is solid, piercing blue eyes.

“Here she is.” Joan said. “Isabel, this is Anne. She’s Kat’s cousin.”

Isabel tilted her head slowly, almost like a dog. She lifted one of her clawed hands, which is as big as Anne’s face, and tentatively touched one of Anne’s spacebuns. She makes a low cooing noise and then waved her head to look at the other two malformed reincarnated creatures nearby.

“Are they...in pain?” Anne asked. “Does this hurt them?”

“I don’t think so,” Joan answered. “They aren’t bad, I just— I messed up.” She lowered her head. “I want to help them, I just don’t know how and I-I keep making it worse. I can’t bring them out because-“ She gestured vaguely for the trip. “You know…” She raised a hand and Isabel pressed her cold, black cheek into it. “But...they’re my friends.”

John clambered across a pipe and leaned over to nuzzle Joan’s temple with his bat-like snout. Joan smiled weakly and gave him the energy bar she had gotten from Anne. His empty sockets widen when he realizes what’s being offered to him and he snatches it up, devouring the treat with the wrapper still on.

“You have to tell the others.” Anne said.

“What?!” Joan looked at her, startled. “N-no! I can’t! Do you know how they’ll react? Especially Aragon! This— this is basically black magic!”

“They can’t arrest you or anything for it.”

“But they can shun me!”

“They deserve to know!” Anne argued.

She was getting angry. Joan knee she shouldn’t have told her.

“No, they don’t!” Joan cried. Her tears spill over. “Why don’t you deal with your family member before you tell me what to do with theirs!”

Anne froze. Her eyes go wide. There’s a low, but harmless and curious growl from the darkness behind her.

“Wh...what?”

Joan sniffled and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. John hangs over her head, and she can hear Juana and Isabel’s claws clack against the tile floor as they stand behind her, watching Anne.

“I told you there were four.” She mumbled hoarsely.

Anne was frozen for a tense half second before she slowly turned around and watched as a humanoid with a deer skull head, the thing from the drawing on Joan’s desk, stepped out of the shadows towards her. It tilts its head like a puppy and the bony jaws open up in a small smile.

“Anne... This is George.”

Tears start to rapidly fall down Anne’s cheeks.

“Your brother.”

#six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fanfic #six fanfiction #sixfic #anne boleyn #nana boleyn #joan on the keys #catherine of aragon #anna of cleves #isabel leigh #juana of castile #george boleyn #boleyn siblings #john astley #gene pool

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bazzybelle · 5 years

Text

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Bat! AKA Bat-Baz II: Electric Bazaloo

Note: I feel I should explain for those new to the beauty and wonder that is Bat-Baz. It started with THIS piece of art by the talented @parijpg (give them 100000% credit for starting the whole Bat-Baz craze). I was so inspired to write that THIS happened (Original Bat-Baz Fic).

If you scroll through the reblogs of that fic, you’ll find some QUALITY ART by the lovely @subpar-selkie !

I was going to end it there, but THIS (adorable BAT) and THIS (more quality content from @subpar-selkie ) were posted this week… So, I caved and wrote ANOTHER BAT-BAZ fic!

It’s the (not very highly) anticipated sequel to Love is Blind (As A Bat). Definitely not as good as The Godfather: Part II, but hopefully better than the straight-to-VHS/DVD/Blu-Ray Disney sequels.

Thank you to @carryonsimoncarryonbaz for the beta-reading, @giishu , and @f-ing-ruthless-baz for yelling at encouraging me to post this story, and @fight-surrender for bothering me this week and cheering me up and making sure I don’t feel too alone this week.

Enjoy… and I’m so sorry.

PS: Also, posting this on AO3. If you want, you can read it HERE.

__________

SIMON

“How many times do I have to tell you!? Rowling’s spells are dodgy at best!”

Baz is yelling on the phone to his half-sister Mordelia. He looks absolutely exhausted, and I can’t say I blame him for taking it out on his little sister. He just spent the better part of the evening as a small black bat, and must be beyond mortified. Anyone who knows Baz Pitch, knows that he usually deals with his embarrassment with snark and (on occasion) misdirected anger. In this case, the anger is very well-directed. It seems Mordelia was responsible for turning him into a bat in the first place.

“I don’t care what spell you were trying to accomplish! Her spells are as problematic and preposterous as she is! She’s barely a magician herself, if we’re being honest.”

I feel like I need to calm Baz down as he’s quickly heading towards one of his famous tirades. I start to run my fingers through his hair and plant a small kiss on his shoulder. Baz’s grey eyes meet my eyes and he sighs heavily. He grabs onto my hand and gives it a small squeeze.

“I know it wasn’t done on purpose, Mordelia, but you need to be careful! You’re starting Watford in the autumn and I highly doubt your classmates will appreciate you turning them into winged mammals.”

I choke back a snort as I think about the hijinks Baz’s sister will get into once she begins her Watford education. Images of a frozen moat in January, and enchanted snowball fights (you can enchant them so they follow the intended target like a tracker – Baz had gotten me a few times that way) fill my mind. I start to lightly scratch Baz’s back and I feel his muscles beginning to relax. I just hope he ends his call soon, so I can have my boyfriend back to his calm, arrogant self.

“I shall be coming back tomorrow to collect my… belongings. If you so much as breathe on my clothes or my mobile, I will not hesitate to turn you into a tarantula!”

Baz finally hangs up and tosses my mobile back to me. He starts rubbing his eyes and groans heavily. I continue to rub his shoulders and start to nuzzle his arm. He turns to me and offers small, tired smile.

“I apologize for that, Simon. But I’d like to think you’d be the same way if you’d just spent the better part of your evening flying from Hampshire to London. I can barely feel my arms.”

“Would you like me to rub your shoulders for you, then?” I ask him. Baz raises an eyebrow and smiles coyly at me.

I place myself behind him and start to knead my fingers into the space where his neck meets his shoulders. My thumbs press deep circles into his shoulder blades. I am careful to not touch his hair, nor the base of his neck (he flinches when I get too close to where he was bitten – it’s not nearly as bad as it used to be when I first massaged him, but I’d rather not risk it).

I hear a soft sigh coming from Baz. I want to continue, but I’m noticing his head lolling forward. I stop my back rubbing and sit back down next to him. I take note of his eyelids beginning to droop. I move some hair from his face and he smiles dreamily at me.

“Did you need to feed before going to bed?” I ask him. Baz shakes his head slowly.

“I fed right before all this started.” Baz gestures towards his body. I lift myself from the bed and gather some pyjamas for him. I toss them to the bed and grab a pair for myself.

“Here. I’ll warm you up some blood, just to be safe, while you change.” Baz rolls his eyes at me, but I’m already out the door before he can protest any further.

I walk into the kitchen to see that the spell books and materials have already been cleared out. I’ll have to thank Penny properly tomorrow, for her help tonight. I suppose a breakfast of her favourite pancakes (banana-blueberry) is enough to show my gratitude. I heat up some blood we keep on hand in the fridge (several butcher’s shops carry a steady supply). I also take some time to make a few sandwiches for him (and for myself… I get hungry when I worry). Before going back into the bedroom, I quickly change into my pyjamas and wash up (Baz must be beyond exhausted if he didn’t even think to freshen up in the bathroom, which means he’ll be cranky tomorrow).

When I get back into the bedroom, Baz is already settled into the bed, eyes closed, and sheets pulled up to his chin. I can feel my heart softening for him, he’s had an impossibly long day. I kneel down beside him and run my hand through his hair. His eyes open slowly. I place the sandwiches on the night stand and hand him a mug with some blood inside.

“I’m fine, Snow” He slurs, but accepts the mug regardless. He downs it in a matter of seconds (Prat… Was probably more thirsty than he let on), and places the mug on the nightstand, next to the plate (he doesn’t touch the sandwiches, which is fine, he’ll eat when he wants to). I climb into the bed and wrap my arms around his waist. Baz settles in as well. I hold him for a little while as I feel him beginning to doze off.

I plant a few small kisses on his shoulder as I start to fall asleep as well.

BAZ

A rumbling in the pit of my stomach startles me awake. I clutch at my abdomen as I attempt to recall when I had last eaten. I rub my eyes,wondering what time it is. I glance at the window and see the dark skies of the night. I wonder how long I’ve been asleep for, as I glance at Simon still sleeping peacefully beside me. His lips are opened slightly (mouth-breather) and he has his arms pulled tight against his chest. I move to give him a small kiss, when my stomach rumbles again.

Right… should probably take care of that first. I look to the night stand and remember the sandwiches that Simon made. I stare at him as I eat slowly (I’ve been practicing controlling my fangs… the only good thing to come out of America), feeling so grateful for the beautiful disaster in my life. I would never ask him to do what he did for me tonight, but Simon does it anyway, just as I would for him. I finish off a couple of sandwiches from the plate, and bring the dishes back to the kitchen. I brush my teeth in the bathroom (exhausted as I am, I still maintain proper hygiene) before heading back into bed with Simon.

I face him and watch him for a moment as he sleeps soundly, chest slowly rising and falling. I reach over and run my fingers through his hair. I plant a small kiss on his lips (I never want to relive the experience of my boyfriend kissing me in bat-form ever again).

An all too familiar feeling begins to arise as soon as my lips leave Simon’s. The splitting headache, the light-headed feeling, and most importantly, the blinding pain shooting up my back. I leap out of bed and I shout to alert Simon, but all that comes out of my mouth is a small, garbled chirp.

Seven snakes! Not again!

I rush to wake him up, but my head suddenly feels so heavy… and I cannot keep my eyes open for much longer… And my stomach begins to lurch.

I feel myself crumple onto the bedroom floor…

At least Simon will know it’s me this time. I think as I hit the floor and become shrouded in darkness…

SIMON

I don’t feel Baz in bed with me as I wake up. I rub my hand on his side of the bed and feel it empty. My eyebrows furrow as I slowly lift myself up from bed. It’s strange for Baz to be awake before I am.

“Baz?” I call out groggily. I look over to his side of the bed once more and notice his pyjamas in a pile on the floor.

“Fuck!” I yell out as I jump out of bed. If there was something I could be sure of, it’s that my boyfriend would NEVER leave his clothing in a messy pile on the side of the bed. Something must have happened to him… again!

Panic rises in my throat as I search through the clothing. I’m hoping with everything in me that I don’t find ash or anything else that could indicate my deepest fears.

Everything seems to be normal, but I notice tiny claw marks within the fabric of the pyjamas. My eyes widen as I piece the clues together.

Bloody fucking hell! Not again!

My eyes dart around the bedroom for any sign of Baz hiding. I begin to search through the darker corners of the bedroom, each spot turning up empty. With every empty spot, I start to panic a little more. Did he get out? Did he get stuck somewhere? Merlin, are there any stray cats that could have gotten inside?

“Baz!? Stop being such a wanker! Where did you get to?!” I call out. When I don’t hear an answer, I stomp through the bedroom door and into the kitchen, where I see Penny, sitting calmly, drinking some tea and eating cereal.

“Good morning Simon.” She tries to say to me, but I ignore her as I start to desperately search the flat for any sign of Baz, or any place he could be sleeping (is he a nocturnal bat? Does it matter? Is his curse following the rules of his anatomy or that of a bat?).

Penny tries calling out to me again, but I’m currently flipping over throw pillows and searching under the sofa.

“Simon… What on Earth…”

“Baz is missing again! Except he’s also a bat again! And I can’t find him!”

I start to move the bookcase, rattling the books and objects placed carefully inside. The organization was Penny and Baz’s doing. They argued for weeks on how to organize the books (Penny wanted alphabetically; Baz by the Dewey Decimal system – which I’d have never even known about, but I’m in love with an impossibly intellectual tosser), but settled on a system that worked for both of them. I’m now mucking up that system, by moving and shifting things around. I’m wondering if Baz found his way behind on the of the books. Maybe his wing got caught somewhere.

“Simon… you should maybe…” She joins me by the bookshelf, but I avoid her and head into the kitchen. I’m thinking that maybe Baz got into one of the cupboards (were they opened last night?)

“Not now Penny!” I open every cupboard in the kitchen and look inside. Nothing. No Baz. I begin to tug the curls in my head, as I think about other places he could have gotten into.

Penny has joined me by the cupboards. I feel her grabbing my wrists. “Simon!” she shouts at me, finally forcing me to look up at her. She points to her head. Plopped calmly and looking at me like I’m impossibly thick, is Baz. Once again, he’s a bat.

“Bloody hell, Baz! You can’t scare me like that!” I reach out my hands, and he hops into them. Bat-Baz nuzzles his face between the space between my thumb and index finger. I bring him up and plant a kiss on top of his head. Penny scratches him behind his wings.

“I found him perched upside down on the lamp, fast asleep. Nearly gave me a heart attack. He woke up not too long ago and found his way to me. What happened? I know you were joking about trying new things with him… But… did you ask him to change back, Simon?!”

I stare at her, mouth open wide and eyes boring into her. Does she actually think I would put Baz through another round of transformations all for a little excitement? I look at Bat-Baz, and he’s giving her the exact same look.

“For Crowley’s sake, Penny! No! I woke up and he was gone! He must have changed again during the night!” My comments are backed up by Bat-Baz’s frantic chirping and wing-flapping. I try to sush him and start rubbing the back of his wings. It worked to calm him down yesterday, and it seems to do the trick today. Bat-Baz starts licking my hand, and while I think that’s adorable and sweet, I don’t want to think about my bat-boyfriend in this way… lest it start affecting our intimate moments.

Penny starts scratching her head and frowns down at Bat-Baz. “I’m wondering if the spell last night worked at all? Is this a side-effect of that spell? Did it mix badly with the spell that made him a bat in the first place?”

“What do you suggest we do?"

Penny stifles a small laugh, "Maybe try and figure out what bats eat? It seems we’ll be stuck here for a while.” Her comment is met with angry chirps from Bat-Baz. If I wasn’t holding onto him as tight as I was, I’m fairly sure he would be attempting to jump at Penny.

“Oh! I didn’t mean it Basil!” Penny tries to pet him, but he hisses at her. I turn my back towards her and lift Bat-Baz to my face. He is not amused at this situation, but I still frown at him.

“Baz… I know you’re pissed off, but try and calm down, yeah”. I turn to Penny, who’s stuck her tongue out at him. I shake my head at her.

“And you! Now is not the time to take the piss out of anything.” Penny looks away, ashamed and I can’t help but roll my eyes. Since when am I the responsible one out of this group? I place Bat-Baz on my shoulder and head to the kitchen. I need to make myself some breakfast before trying to tackle this mystery.

I look at Bat-Baz, who’s started nuzzling my face, and just wanting to stay as close to me as possible. Baz hates feeling vulnerable in any way, and being changed into a tiny animal, without his strength and his magic… yeah, pretty fucking vulnerable, if you ask me. I pick him up again and look into his eyes (fuck… they’re still grey…). I feel my heart break a little as I stare at them, because they look devastated.

“Hey… don’t be like that. We’re going to figure this out.” I speak in a small soft voice to him, but Bat-Baz looks away from me. I run my thumb over his little head a few times and his eyes close. A tiny, sad chirp escapes him as he leans into my touch. He starts licking me again. I bring him closer to my face.

“I promise, Baz. If anything, this proves even further that we match… y’know… ‘cause of the wings.” I give my wings a small flap as Bat-Baz rolls his eyes.

“I know you’re laughing on the inside, Baz. Come on. I’ll try to find you something to eat.” I give him a small peck on his bat lips and leave him to perch on the edge of my wing. I start to look through the refrigerator for any fruit or blood (seriously… what do bats eat? What kind of bat is he? I mean… vampire bat makes sense, but is that a little too on the nose?).

I don’t notice the bright purple glow surrounding Baz’s small form. I feel him swooping down from my wing and see him flying desperately towards the bedroom. I slam the refrigerator door shut and run after him. Penny tries to follow, but I shut the door before she gets too close. She begins to knock on the door.

“Simon! What’s going on! Is he changing back?”

“Yes Penny! He’s changing back!” I breathe a sigh of relief as Baz turns back into himself (again, completely starkers… probably the only side effect of the spell I can’t be mad about). I rush to him and wrap my arms around him. He leans his head on my shoulder and breathes heavily into me. I run my fingers through his hair and start rubbing his back. He lifts his head and his eyes meet mine.

“At least we know how to change me back.” He says. I start to laugh.

“Fat lot that’ll do, until we know what causes the transformation to happen. D’you remember what happened before you changed?” Baz leans down and presses his hands together. He starts shaking his head. Another series of knocks pounds through the room. Penny’s voice rings out, loudly.

“Is he back to his grumpy self, then?!”

Baz glares at the door. I sigh as I get up and fetch some clothes for him to wear. If we’re going to have a discussion about breaking his spell (or I suppose it’s more of a curse at this point), Penny should be a part of it.

“I’d like to see you maintain a cheery demeanor when spending most of your time as a tiny winged mammal, Bunce!” Baz barks, while slipping on one of his shirts. Now that he’s decent, I should go open the door. Before I do, I walk up to him and cup his face in my hands. I make sure he’s looking at me

“We’re going to figure this out. Trust us, okay?” Baz smiles at me and nods.

“Okay.”

I give him a small smile and softly kiss him once more. Baz reaches up and starts to caress my shoulders. I press further into him, when a pained moan escapes his lips. I quickly back, worried that I hurt him. Baz’s eyes are opened wide, and panicked. I grab his wrists and try to get him to look at me, but it won’t work.

“Baz? What’s happening?” I try to ask him.

“Simon! It-” His speech is cut short by a series of loud, hysterical chirping. He finally looks at me for a few moments, before collapsing onto the bed. I manage to catch him and lie him down, but I can already see the transformation happening. To my horror, he starts glowing and shrinking into his clothes.

“Fuck! Shit! Baz… Why’s this happening?”

Merlin, Morgana, and Methuselah! How many times has it been now? I notice a small lump moving around inside the sweater. I look inside to see a furious Bat-Baz. I cup him in my hands and walk sadly towards the door. I open the door to a Penny with her hands on her hips. She frowns at the bat-boyfriend in my hands.

“Wasn’t he just changed?”

“He was! That didn’t last very long.” I set Bat-Baz back on my wing. He calmly perches upside-down and wraps his tiny body in his wings. I think he wants to be left alone for now. I don’t blame him.

“Well, what happened now, Simon!?”

“I don’t know Penny! All I did was tell him that we’d fix things and then he changed again!” I stomp out of the bedroom and head back to the kitchen. I whip open the refrigerator and pull out some eggs and fruit. I decide to make myself some breakfast and cut up some fruit for Baz. Maybe some food will calm us both down.

Penny follows me into the kitchen and leans on the wall as I cook the eggs. “Is that all you did, Simon?” she asks me. I slam the spatula in my hand down on the counter and turn to her, hands raised above my head.

“Oh of course! I forgot to mention the secret demonic ritual I had Baz perform so that he can stay a bat at my whim!” I notice that my wings start flapping. I take a deep breath and calm myself down. The last thing I want to do is send Bat-Baz accidently hurtling across the room because I’m throwing a tantrum.

Penny places a calm hand on my shoulder. “No! But did you do anything else?”

I sigh and run my hands through my hair, trying to think of anything that could have done this to him. The only thing I can think of is the kiss I gave him. But that can’t be it. It was what changed him back to his normal vampire-self. I shrug at Penny. “I don’t know… I kissed him. But I alway-”

“AHA!” Penny shouts in my ear. Her sudden exclamation causes me to jump back and violently flap my wings, which in turn sends Bat-Baz flinging off. Thankfully, he catches himself before hitting anything and flies up. He dives towards Penny, who ducks for cover. Bat-Baz starts screeching at her, before I step in between them. He lands on my head and buries himself in my curls. I turn back to Penny, who’s wearing a small apologetic look on her face.

“Well? What is it, Penny?” Penny stands up and straightens her plaid skirt.

“The kisses Simon. We know that kisses turn him back into a human. Well what if they work both ways?” Penny grabs an apple and begins to slice it. She places a thin slice in her hand and holds it up towards my head, a small peace offering, I suppose. Bat-Baz perkes up and sniffs the apple slice in Penny’s hand. He slowly hops into her palm and starts to eat the apple slice.

Merlin… My heart melts to watch them. I snap out of it and continue my discussion.

“Both ways?”

Penny starts to scratch Bat-Baz behind the wings. He continues to eat his apple slice. “Yes. Like how we spell your wings off until a bell rings?” I nod at her, pressing her to go on. “Well maybe this is similar. Since we connected it to a Bat-Man spell.”

“What does Bat-Man have to do with this?” I finally finish cooking my eggs and place them on a plate. Penny has placed Baz on the counter and continues to slice small apple slices for him. He starts to eat them slowly. I start shoveling the eggs in my mouth. Bat-Baz looks up at me, and I didn’t think a bat could look so disgusted… but there you go. Penny’s got the same look on her face, so maybe it’s just me.

Penny heads towards the refrigerator. She opens it and starts to look for something inside. “Think about it Simon. Bat-Man is all about living your life within a duality. Maybe the spell was not literal enough. Instead of changing a bat into a man. It allowed for a more controlled dual life. Controlled by your kisses, it seems” She pulls out one of the containers of blood, we keep on hand for Baz. She hands it to me and motions towards the stove. I eat some more of my eggs and get started on heating some of the blood. I don’t suppose we need very much of it right now.

Penny grabs a small saucer from the cupboard. I spoon a tiny amount of blood into the saucer and set it in front of Bat-Baz. He gives it a look and looks up at Penny and me, with drooping ears. I sigh at him.

“Honestly, Baz. It isn’t a big deal if we see you feed. You should feed so that you feel better.” He doesn’t make a move toward the blood, instead focusing on the apple slices. I grumble to myself and grab Penny by the arm, leading her away from Bat-Baz.

“So… What, I can’t ever kiss Baz again? What sort of rubbish is that?” I hear angry chirping, signifying Baz’s agreement that our situation is in fact rubbish.

Penny lifts her glasses from her head. She grabs a small piece of cloth from her skirt pocket and begins to clean them. “Don’t be dramatic, Simon. There is a solution to this. We just have to go to the source of the spell.” I groan, because that means we have to call Mordelia and ask her what spell she used and I do not feel like talking to her. I look over towards the kitchen counter.

“Baz? You done in there?” A series of small chirps tells me that he’s done feeding. I go back to the kitchen. I clean up the saucer and plates, while Baz finishes up the apple slice he’s been eating. I pick him up and he starts licking my hand again (I’ve gotten used to it by now… seeing as we won’t be allowed to kiss until this spell is broken, we’ll have to find more creative ways of showing affection towards each other). Penny looks over at us and makes a face.

“Nicks and Slick, Basil! Maybe I need to spell a small pouch to put you in so that you allow Simon the use of his hands!”. Bat-Baz looks up at her and glares. I bring him up and kiss the top of his head.

“She isn’t serious… Right Penny?” She shrugs and walks away. I frown at her and look down at Bat-Baz who… actually has a sneer on his face. I head towards the bedroom.

“Come on… Let’s turn you back into my Baz.”

BAZ

Simon is leaning against my arm, reading a graphic novel adaptation of Interview with a Vampire (I bought it for him recently, after he would not stop asking me about Anne Rice).It’s taking everything in my willpower to not kiss him right now. All I have to do is think about how uncomfortable it is to move about as a bat and my desires to kiss him disappear (almost disappear… or rather… momentarily disappear. I am a constant disappointment to myself, after all). I have chosen to browse through The Vampire Lestat. It is the homework that Bunce has given to us. She has settled herself on the kitchen table, reading the atrocious Twilight books, while furiously writing down notes. I look down at my own neatly written notes, and the few sentences that Simon’s managed to scribble down (with my gentle coaxing).

We had been going at this all day. After our unconventional breakfast, Simon took me into the bedroom and privately changed me back into my nearly human form. We then (well, mostly me, Simon was pacing about the flat the entire time, while Bunce took extensive notes) called my irksome little sister to ask her what spell she was trying to cast.

Apparently she thought it absolutely brilliant to try and cast Expecto Patronum. According to Mordelia, she was hoping to know what her patronus was, and I just happened to show up at the wrong time. She insisted that “it would have worked had you not shown up, Basil!”. After berating her for nearly an hour on how impossible the very notion of a patronus was (the closest thing could be a familiar, but even that is rare), I once again threatened to turn her into an abhorrent arachnid before hanging up the phone.

We came to the conclusion that I was turned into a bat because, well, if patronuses did exist, it was very possible that mine would be a bat (at least that was the explanation Bunce offered, I personally think it’s bollocks).

Which brings us to our homework session. Bunce believes that in order to turn me back into my full-self, we needed to create a spell that brings forth my true nature (hence the diverse selection of vampire-related literature).

For now, I am scanning the pages of my book, while Simon lazily lies against my shoulder. I look over at him, to see him smiling up at me. I smirk back at him. Simon reaches over and gently tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. I lean towards him and touch my nose to his. He begins to caress my face and I lean into his soft touch.

I realize too late that his lips have made their way to mine.

I pull back in fear. Simon is wearing a look of shock… which soon changes into one of instant regret.

“Fuck! Bollocks! I forgot!” He yells, which gets Bunce’s attention. She runs towards the sofa, but I can already feel the transformation taking over. I give Simon an angry sneer.

“I swear to Crowley, Snow. I-” my hand clamps over my mouth as a loud chirp escapes it. My head once again feels dizzy and I feel sweat beads on my brow. I lean over and put my head down to steady the all-too-familiar sensation of sickness and lightheadedness. I can hear Simon next to me apologizing profusely. I reach for his hand and hold it tightly. I don’t have much time before I am a bat again, and although I am cross with him, I don’t wish for him to beat himself up over this.

I give a small lop-sided grin to Simon and collapse onto his shoulder as the transformation takes over (hopefully for a final time).

SIMON

And so we’re here again. Bat-Baz nestled in my curls (I think he’s having a nap, the transformations take a lot of energy out of him), Penny making tasteless bat-related jokes and puns, and me trying to keep my head on straight. It’s becoming more and more difficult to do so.

Baz hasn’t wanted to change back into a human and has been feeling extra mopey. I’ve cut up some more fruit for him, but he hasn’t been in the mood to eat anything. I’ve tried petting his head, his wings, his tiny back… no response from him.

I now reach up to my head and hope that Bat-Baz decides to climb onto my hand. I sprinkled some sugared water on my hand as a way to coax him (with that sweet-tooth he’s got). A smile spreads across my lips as I feel his tiny body clamber into my palm. I bring him down to eye-level and he begins to excitedly lick the sugar off of my hand. I start laughing and give him a kiss on one of his wings. Bat-Baz stops licking and a small blush creeps over his cheeks.

“Glad you’re feeling a little better. Can you eat something for me?” I offer him a small piece of strawberry. Bat-Baz thankfully accepts it. As he’s eating his strawberry, Penny enters the kitchen. She’s holding a notepad and a triumphant smile on her face.

“What is it, Penny?”

“I think I’ve got the spell to change Baz back.”

“Okay. What is it?”

Penny shows me the notepad. Bat-Baz looks down at it and starts to angrily chirp at Penny. I read the spell, but I’m not familiar with the quote written down.

“Where is this from, Penny? And why if Baz obviously objecting to it?” Penny’s lips curl into a sneaky smile. Whatever it is, it’s making her far too excited.

“Twilight.”

I shake my head violently and walk away from her. Absolutely not! Baz hates that entire series. He claims they are terrible books, and the very notion of dazzling in the sunlight is offensive to him as a vampire.

“You’ve got to be joking Penny! Of all books to choose, you chose Twilight? Baz will never forgive you.” I look down to see Bat-Baz giving Penny the most judgmental look I have ever seen (well for a bat, that is).

“The quote is technically from the movie, but it should still work! The entire franchise is wildly popular! I still see Normals walking around with Team Edward shirts!”

Bat-Baz covers his head in his wings. It’s going to take some convincing for him to be on board with this, but so far, it’s the best shot we’ve got (even though it’s a rather piss-poor shot).

“Alright. Let’s try it.” I sigh and follow Penny into the living room.

Penny smiles and holds out her hand. I place Bat-Baz in one of my hands and cradle him carefully. He grips onto my thumb and curls into a small ball (I think he’s begun to lose hope at this point… also, bloody Twilight? As if he wasn’t mortified enough). I give Penny my other hand. She lifts the notepad to my eye level and I read off the first line of quote.

“I know what you are” I say to my tiny bat-boyfriend. Penny places her hand gently over Bat-Baz’s head, making sure the ring finger touches him directly. She squeezes my hand tightly and looks into my eyes.

“Say it. Out loud… SIMON SNOW say it!” She yells. I can feel her magic in the air, stong, comforting, with the distinct smell of sage in the air. I feel it wash over me and vibrate over Bat-Baz’s tiny body. He beginning to chirp wildly and I begin to worry that we’re hurting him. I want to get this spell done with. I speak in a loud clear voice:

“Baz Pitch… Vampire-Mage”

A bright, white light explodes from Penny’s ring and causes us to fall backwards. In the commotion that occurs, I let go of Bat-Baz and he slips from my grasp. The white light envelopes him completely and I need to shield my eyes. A strong force pushes Penny and me back a little more. I try to look for where Baz landed, but all I can see if the piercing white light. I have to hope that he’s somewhere in there, turning back into himself. Eventually, the white light starts to dim and the pulsing magical force starts to die down.

Merlin please let this be it. Please let Baz be himself again. I don’t think he can handle another series of intense changes.

I hear Penny screaming before my eyes get the chance to adjust to the scene in front of me. But, there he is, on the ground and fully human again. And… naked. And unconscious! Fuck!

I yell at Penny to get me some water for him. I grab a nearby blanket and scramble to him. I drape the blanket over his body and gently lift his head from the floor.

My anxious mind winds down as I hear his slow steady breaths. He’s alive, but probably completely drained. I lift him a little more and position my legs beneath him, so that I can better support him. Penny comes back with a glass of water and a small wet towel. She bends down and places her hand on his arm.

“Is he alright?” She asks, concern washing over her brown eyes.

I nod at her. Penny sighs with relief and places the glass on the floor, beside me. I ask her to go find some clothes for him, for when he wakes up. I grab the towel from her and start to dab his brow and his face. As I work, I hear a soft groan coming from his lips. His eyelids start squinting and he stirs a little. I give him a small delicate shake.

“Baz? It’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay.”

He starts to mumble something, but it’s hard for me to understand him. I lean in closer to him. “What was that?”

“That was wholly unpleasant.” He opens his eyes and smiles at me. “Hello, Snow.” he drawls.

“Hi.” I laugh at him. I help him sit up and offer the glass of water to him. He smiles as he takes a sip.

Baz’s little smile quickly turns into a slight frown. He looks down at the blanket covering him and his eyes bulge.

“Snow… am I, naked?”

“Um… y-yes?”

“Crowleyyyyy! Just set me on fire now!” Baz smacks his hand over his eyes in complete humiliation. I wrap one of my arms over his shoulders and gently hold him close. Baz buries his face into my shoulder and wraps one of his arms around my neck. I kiss the side of his head and rub small circles on his back. Penny creeps back into the room and quietly places some clothes beside me. I turn to her and mouth a “thank you”. Penny smiles and squeezes my wing. She heads to her room and closes the door, allowing us some much-needed privacy.

I give Baz a small shake and he lifts his head from my shoulder. I grab the clothes and hand them to him. He accepts them and starts putting them on. I get up from the floor and give him a few moments to collect himself and regain his dignity.

I’m putting some water to boil for tea when I feel a set of strong cool arms wrapping around me. Baz leans his head on my shoulder and gives me a small kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you. For everything today.” He whispers to me.

I smile in return. He doesn’t need to thank me. For him, I’d do it all.

“D’you think it worked this time?”

Baz sighs, “There’s only one way to find out.”

I turn to face him and study his deep-grey eyes. They’re tired, mostly. He draws a shaky breath, worried that the spell didn’t work.

“It had to have worked. I know it did.” I whisper to him. Baz closes his eyes and lowers his head.

I comb his hair back with my fingers and trail my hand down his face. We both take a deep breath and lean into a tiny, almost-chaste kiss. I see Baz squeezing his eyes shut, anticipating the transformation to begin.

But… nothing happens.

I shake Baz happily. “Baz! It worked! You’re you again!”

Baz begins to laugh and touches his forehead to mine. He grips my face in his hands and pulls me into a deep kiss. I lean into him and respond with a small happy sigh.

Baz pulls away and cocks an eyebrow at me. “I think I’m going to take a break from visiting my parents. I’ve had enough excitement to last me quite a while.”

I roll my eyes and him and flick his chin. “Baz… I don’t want to hear about your family right after you’ve snogged me.”

Baz laughs and pulls away again. He grabs my hand and leads me slowly into the bedroom. Once we’re inside, and with a coy smile, he grabs his wand from the nightstand and closes the door.

#The Return of Bat-Baz #Bat-Baz #simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #basilton pitch #snowbaz #carry on #wayward son #crack #Yes hello I am a trash #trash #I am also a shit #comforting boyfriend #Simon Snow is a good boyfriend #my writing #fanfic

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tales-and-languages · 4 years

Text

Strange Magic Headcanons & Story ideas

Ok, so, I’m doing this! Thank you so much for the feedback, I’m really excited to share this.

Some of this headcanons are already used in fanfics, but I really enjoy the idea of it :3. I hope you like it; tell me what do you think.

Post-canon movie:

-Marianne and Bog sharing different customs, trying to blend into each other’s culture. I can imagine Marianne trying new food and even liking some of it. For example, one day she founds out that goblins have this kind of tea that is made of herbs and animal blood (preferably from a rabbit or a squirrel). At first she hesitates, but after having a sip she actually likes it! Which surprises Bog, but it also makes him happy :3.

-There are three languages: common, fairy and goblin. Marianne gets excited about learning goblin language and asks Bog to teach her. Bog knows some fairy words, but he can’t speak fluently nor answer with complex sentences, so he also asks Marianne to teach him. I also like to imagine them learning simple words on their own from books or from other people to impress each other and to express their love. For example, Marianne asking Griselda how to say “I love you” in goblin, or Bog asking Dawn some compliments for Marianne. This would also be very handy in case they want to say something to each other when there’s people around, so they only understand one another.

-There is also a communication skill to speak to some small animals or bugs. This “language” is based on tongue click sequences, and each sequence has its own meaning. Bog uses this technique to communicate with dragonflies or bats, for example. He would also teach this to Marianne, of course. And Marianne would use it gladly. I can imagine Dagda and Dawn getting amazed by it, not understanding what’s going on at first.

-Marianne trying out goblin weapons. Swords are her favourite, of course, but she would be curious about daggers, spears, maces and hallberds.

-As for intimacy, they would take it slow, at least in the beginning. One of the things they would like the most is to explore each other’s features since their anatomy is so different. And also watching their physical reactions; I like to imagine Bog smiling whenever Marianne gets goose bumps by his caresses. He would also trim his claws a bit to not harm Marianne, but not so much since he knows she likes them :3

Future children AU:

As many other fans, I’ve created children for them. For the moment, there’s one boy and one girl (they’re twins). I called them Einar and Willow.

-Their body shape and wings are the same as fairies, but they have some goblin characteristics: they got Bog’s scales on their elbows and shoulders, and a little bit on their faces; long nails and fingers, small fangs and spurs on their heels.

-Because of their physical features, they don’t really need to wear clothes, but they do it anyway because fashion is fun, especially for Einar. Willow would rather be half naked most of the time, since it’s more convenient for her, except when there’s an official event or a party. Although neither of them wear any shoes, because of the spurs.

-Although their personalities are different, they get along very well. Einar is introverted, cautious, discreet, sweet and brave. Willow is extroverted, impulsive, stubborn, optimistic and daring. Einar tends to be more pessimistic and is also a bit insecure, but Willow always tries to help him out by supporting him. This is due to his worries about the kingdoms and his own responsabilities as the crown prince; Willow, on the other hand, has a lot of self-confidence and doesn’t overthink her troubles.

That’s all for now! If you have any questions, feel free to ask me! I’ll be more than glad to answer <3

#strange-magic #strange magic #strange magic headcanons #headcanons #oc character #future children #story ideas #butterfly bog #post-canon

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sparkie96 · 4 years

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Leon and dante stuck at home taking care of the kids and thinking chris won't be back form his mission for awhile but they don't know he comes home early and wants to surprise them?!🥺💕

(Not really a surprise, but this will be apart of a future project later, so don’t want to give away too much)

“Reddie!” Dante called to the little baby/demon hybrid that sat on top of Chris’s files, “You stop that right this instance, you little bastard!”

Said hybrid was no bigger than a water bottle, just like the other triplets. “Reddie” had a human baby face and chest, but from the chest down, the little baby was covered in red and black scales. He had claws, a tail and little bat looking wings and red horns. Little beady reddish brown orbs watched his “Mama”, leaning down and ripping at another piece of paper on his “Papa’s” desk with sharp little teeth. There were also little shreds of ripped paper in the little tuft of white hair on his head.

“No!” Dante scolded, going to the little demon, but Reddie was just a hair faster, little wings lifting him and zooming past his mother.

“Get back here!” Dante called, chasing after him.

It had been almost a year since Dante had moved in with his mates, having come out and telling them that he had actually been an Omega, instead of an Alpha like his older twin brother. But Leon and Chris didn’t care, Leon having already known and Chris being accepting of him no matter what. And then one thing led to another, Leon having already been pregnant when Chris and Leon mated with Dante and Dante ended up pregnant with Chris’s baby, er, babies.

Well...that’s when Dante found out that he was not like other Omegas. Granted, he knew he was not like other Omegas, because, y’know, Half-Demon and all, but he was sort of expecting to be able to have a baby the “normal human way”. Not the “laying eggs like a goddamn chicken” sort of way. Thanks to his devil anatomy, he didn’t produce babies like normal Omegas. He had nested like normal, but then laid eggs.

And what hatched had been three little part demon part human hybrids. Dante wasn’t good with names, so he had just named after their colors: Reddie and Greenie, who for some reason had wings, and then the runt of the litter, Blue, who for some reason didn’t have his wings yet. He had to be carried around, but mostly let Leon do that, riding on the younger Omega’s pregnant belly or his shoulder.

Currently, Dante had brought the babies home from a day at the orphanage with Patty and the kids, but two out of his three little hellions weren’t happy at all that Chris wasn’t home. Reddie and Greenie, of course the two flyers, were in the process of creating chaos because “Papa” wasn’t home.

Dante chased Reddie out of Chris and Leon’s shared office space, Reddie carrying a document, for something that was probably important, in his mouth as he flew. Greenie had Chris’s shirt, having made a little nest out of it and lying on a cushion next to Leon, who sat on the couch feeding the lazy little baby on his belly goldfish crackers. Blue happily chewed on the little orange crackers, carefully taking them from Leon’s fingers with his own little clawed hands before eating them.

“Dante?” Leon asked as he looked up at his mate, “Did you need help with…?”

“Nope!” Dante said, jumping and trying to get the paper from the little demon, Reddie pulling it out of his Mama’s reach, “I got this! You tamed those two, I should be able to tame this one.”

Leon chuckled and shook his head, “Are you sure? You got to let them know who the Alpha is.”

“But Chris is on an assignment!” Dante protested.

“Not what I meant!” Leon reiterated, “You’re their mother. You gotta read the babies, figure out their needs and be stern with them. Negotiate.”

Dante turned back to Reddie, who fluttered above him with the paper in his mouth, muffled chirps leaving the little one as he swayed in front of him. He could negotiate, but Chris wasn’t going to be back until tomorrow. Out of curiosity, Dante experimentally reached out with his right hand Reddie ducked to the left side, making a sound that didn’t sound mad or distressed. He sounded...happy. It was a happy chirp sound. The little tail moved much like that of a very happy dog, wagging as he fluttered in front of Dante.

He was playing and thought Dante wanted to play too.

Dante chuckled, turning away from the little one and pretending to be disinterested in their game. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Reddie move closer, moving until he was in sight once more, flicking the paper at Dante. With lightning reflexes, he gently grabbed Reddie himself, kissing the little belly and nuzzling his little head, dislodging the now drooly paper from the baby demon’s mouth.

Dante looked over the report before turning to Leon, cradling Reddie to his chest as the little one cooed up at him, “Does Chris still need that report on New York and Glenn Arias?”

Leon shook his head, “Filed that a while ago. Why?”

Dante showed Leon the torn and wet piece of paper. Leon’s eyes widened in surprise, but he couldn’t help but chuckle. He said that Chris might have a few stern words with Reddie, but he would probably find the whole thing amusing. Even more so when he would find out just what caused their chaotic behavior.

The older Omega nodded, rocking the little one in his arms and watching Reddie doze off. Dante jokingly said that he would probably kick Chris’s ass for being away from home for so long, making his companion laugh once more. Leon asked if that would be before or after he had angry sex with Chris. Dante blushed lightly, giving a small smile, asking Leon what he thought would happen.

“I already have an idea.” Leon said, gently picking up Blue and putting him in the nest next to his brother, Dante coming over and doing the same with Reddie, sitting on the other side of the cushion.

“They’re so adorable.” Leon cooed, “Even with the scales and all that.”

“I know...they can be a bit of little heathens at times,” he said, tucking them in with the blanket on the back of the couch, “...but I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world…”

Leon laid his head on Dante’s shoulder as they watched over the little baby demons. It wasn’t long until they themselves got tired, taking Blue, Greenie and Reddie to their little nursery before Dante and Leon went to their own room. Leon and Dante snuggled close, discussing when they thought Chris might come home and how he might be doing.

“...how do you do it?” Dante asked suddenly, rubbing Leon’s back.

Leon looked up at Dante, “What?”

“The whole, bioterrorism thing? Like, I can fight demons because I’m part demon myself,” Dante began, trying to figure out the right thing to say, “But you two...you fight things that are almost as strong as the demons I go up against...and you two are only...well, I worry about you two a lot.”

Leon breathed in a deep breath, hugging Dante back, “We just do. I don’t know how half the time...but things just work out in the end.”

“But not without sacrifice…” Dante recalled, remembering what Leon and Chris were like right after they came back from New York, having lost a lot of innocent lives, “...But I won’t let you go through that alone. You or Chris. I’m gonna make sure you two don’t get all dark on me and I’ll do whatever it takes. I promise.”

Leon smiled, nuzzling Dante’s shoulder, “I know you will.”

________________________

Chris came home the next morning to a clean house and the smell of pancakes and bacon. He had barely had time to set down his bags when Reddie and Greenie rushed him, flying full speed at the man while chirping loudly in excitement.

Chris chuckled, gently holding them in his hands and kissing their little heads, “Hi, boys. Holding down the fort and taking care of Leon and Dante while I was gone?” He asked with a smile.

Reddie and Greenie chirped loudly up at him, jumping up and down happily in his hands. He heard chirping from the kitchen, smiling and greeting Blue, who carried around a plastic fork like a pitchfork while standing on the table. Chris chuckled at the sight, the little blue demon was seemingly guarding the plate of bacon and sausages.

“Hi, Bud.” Chris greeted Blue as Blue hopped over to him, kissing the little one’s head, “Helping Mama and Ma with breakfast?”

“Kind of,” Dante chuckled, kissing Chris, “He’s been keeping Red and Greenie away from the bacon and sausage with his trusty fork.”

“I had to give him a plastic one because Dante gave him a metal one originally.” Leon explained, setting down a plate of pancakes and eggs, “Morning, Honey.” Leon added, kissing Chris too.

“So, how was Louisiana?” Dante asked, setting down a bowl of fruit, patting Leon’s side gently and telling him to sit and eat, “If something happened...we can skip over the bad parts until you’re ready.”

Chris gave a small smile as Dante joined them at the table, “Let’s just say, I’m glad to be home with my family.”

#danteleon #Spardafield #DantexLeonxChris #ChrisxDantexLeon #Omegaverse AU #dante sparda #Chris Redfield #Leon S. Kennedy #The Demon Triplets

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kaitlynpcallmebeepme · 5 years

Text

I’ll Fight For You

I’ll Fight For You

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Fight scene, explosions, hurt descriptions, starving self, swearing I think, nursing organ facts (tell me if you think of any more), fluff, and a hint of angst

A/N: This is the work I have for @keepingupwiththeparkers for her 4,000 follower writing challenge.

#kuwtp4kwc

Thinking about making an origin story for Gargoyle. The good title I thought of I want to save for my series. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Requests are open and Messages are open if you want to chat. The gifs came from google, so credit goes to the person who made them. I don’t own Gargoyles the show either.

Background: Only slight endgame spoilers for this description. In my world, Carol snapped the gauntlet to kill Thanos and made it through the time machine, but left the mind and time stone so they could bring Vision back and returned the soul stone to save Natasha, and Steve didn't go back in time. Avengers Tower was bought back until the compound could be rebuilt and remained as a kind of a base since Queens is closer to the tower than the compound.

Tag list: Send me an ask if you want to be added.

@trashinaglass and @peter-pan-hoe ♡

Dialogue prompt:

8. “I thought I’d lost you”

Word count: 1,860

The intel was terrible at best. When have you ever heard of a hydra agent defecting. That didn't matter anymore. What mattered is that your team, the Avengers, got the intel about chemical weapons Hydra was developing and get out of the base as quickly as possible.

Taking revenge on the people who tortured you is one of the sweetest things ever. You were Y/n. Last name you never knew. Part of a species of bat-human hybrids that you were the sole survivor of, thanks to hydra of course. Mainly a human body with slightly pointed ears, retractable claws, an echolocation trackability, better hearing, sharp teeth, bat-shaped wings protruding from your back, skin that can turn to stone, and slight healing powers, which were amplified if you turned completely to stone for some time. You took the name Gargoyle after Peter showed you The Hunchback of Notre Dame. It was his job to catch you, Steve, and Bucky up on all of the pop culture stuff you missed.

You and Peter had the bottom floor almost cleared with the task of searching for hostages. You liked the curly-haired nerd. You two were around the same age when the Avengers raided the Hydra base you were kept captive in. He was the one to hoist your bloody body over his shoulders and carry you out of there. You both valued stealth and sticking to ceilings. You both often trained together and we're interested in both of your talents, yours of which was blacksmithing and Anatomy. You both tested your powers to see how far you could push each other and discover what your limits were. Peter could spend an hour upside-down before he started to feel fatigued and your healing ability worked better if you have a lot of what was hurt. For example, a kidney would heal a lot faster than a heart because there are two kidneys and one heart.

Okay, back to the mission. No hostages or test subjects have been found as you and Peter kept making your way around your floor. It was mainly storage rooms with few people in the hallways. Not as exciting for you, but you didn't want to go into a room where you two couldn't handle what was inside.

You and Peter got on the ceiling in front of the last room you had to check off your floor. When all of a sudden the door burst open on its own and the air was filled with bullets. Two big guys with miniguns. TWO?!?! Normally it would be one and a lot of smaller henchmen covering him. You looked at Peter for some silent sign of a game plan. He drew a 'Z' with his fingers and pointed to his web shooter. Then made the cracking fist motion with his hands. You nodded and made a silent prayer that this worked because you hated having to play fair when taking out minigunners. Peter shot the two guys with taser webs, which brought them both to the floor. You two then dropped down and started going ham on betting these two up. You just hit the back of their head until their occipital lobe knocked out their vision. Fury would be by later to arrest everyone, but you wanted to make sure they stayed down. You cut up their arms and legs a bit just so it would make it difficult for any of the men to escape. You disarmed the miniguns and Peter webbed down the guys as best as he could.

"Wonder what they were guarding?"

"I don't know Gargoyle, but we better be careful."

You gently pushed the door open revealing a planning room covered in blueprints. Some were for cannons and others were for what looked like experiments. Turning humans into other creatures, which in turn would be used for Hydra.

"Make sure to have Karen scan all these."

Before you could analyze the plans in front of you, you were knocked to the ground. Your body went into full fight mode preparing to stab whoever tackled you. Good thing your mind caught up to your instincts and realized it was Peter who was on top of you. Your senses were thrown off as all you could hear was bullet shells hitting the ground and an AK-47 going on full blast. You extended your arm and hit a button to make a small sharp disc fly out from above your wrist. The disk shot under the table and took the last man standing down. You kicked the gun away and gave the guy a few scars with your Assassin's Creed wrist knives.

It was only then when you realized that Peter didn't get up. He was groaning in the middle of the floor where you left him. He was on his side, but you could see the number of bullets in his left side. You turned Peter over and realized he's bleeding a lot faster than he should be.

"Hit near the pancreas and spleen. Shit." If there was one thing you remembered from all your time studying Anatomy, it was those two organs have a lot of blood going through them. "Nonononono. Kid, you gotta stay with me. You gotta stay awake." You hit his face a bit to keep him conscious.

You didn't want to move him because that could make it worse and you were definitely not qualified to remove bullets on a battlefield from an advanced human. So you did the next best thing. You held the button on your earpiece. "Code Blue. Underoos's been hit. I repeat. Code Blue. Underoos's been hit."

"What? Where are you guys?" Tony's panicked voice wasn't helping your demeanor.

"Basement; in a room full of blue-." Your eyes grew wide for a split second as you saw the guy who shot Peter with a grenade in his hand and his thumb in the ring.

"Hail Hydra."

You didn't have time to think. You scooped up Peter and ran as fast as you could before the pin could be pulled. You both barely made it to the doorway before the whole room exploded. You wings protected the two of you from most of the flames, didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"Kids, you ok?" There came the Dad voice from Clint again. Clint, you liked to call the perfect mix of sass and fatherly advise.

You slowly lifted your wings but kept them up to keep the rubble dust out of your eyes. You looked over at Peter who you could tell was still losing consciousness. "We're fine. The basement's clear. I can run him back to the quinjet and rush him to the medbay of you guys can meet me there."

"We're done here. Everyone meet at the jet and we're rushing the kid back. Do you need cover?" Natasha was one of the few people to keep Tony's mind straight besides Pepper.

"No. I can run him back up. The basement's clear." Just as I scooped Peter back up and started to run to the stairs, remote turrets came online. "Of people."

Your bare feet skidded across the dirty floor as you made a break for the Northwest stairs while trying to avoid the bodies that littered the floor. Your wings covered you both, but the bullets that hit your legs still hurt. Your heart pounded in your ears as the only person you were worried for was Peter. Did he lose too much blood? Was his body healing around the bullets? Would he ever wake up from this? You pushed your thoughts to the back of your head and focused on running.

The snow of Ireland made your bare feet bleed, but you were numb to pain at this point as you layed Peter down in the jet. You tried to focus all of your healing energy to your hands, but it wasn't helping. You just decided to step back and let Bruce and Tony try their hardest to help as F.R.I.D.A.Y flew you back to the tower.

They took Peter to the Intensive Care Unit and only when they gave him a transfusion of blood and took all 12 bullets out of his side were you allowed to see him. He had a slight concussion and his face was bruised from the fall. You couldn't do anything to help him but hold his hand with the IV still in.

"Do you remember when we met? It was my first day. Still getting used to the compound. You were hanging from the ceiling as I was quenching a blade in the garage and scared the shit out of me I almost left the blade too long in the oil. I was a mess then. Still thinking that I was undeserving of love. That hydra had used me too much that I wasn't worth anything anymore. Even before Hydra my parents never made me feel good about myself." A shaky breath left your cut lip as you let tears silently slip out. "You're too good for this world Peter. You go out of your way for the little guy. You made me realize no matter how many people kick you in the jaw, even if it's one person or just yourself that wants you to keep going, you get the hell back up. I am that now for you. Please wake up. Please. Just don't be dead. Please." You were crying waterfalls at that point that any words you tried to make came out shaky.

"You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me ha... ha-ppy

When skies are gray

You'll never know dear

How much I love you

Please don't take

God please don't take

My sunshine away."

A week he was asleep. A week too long. His body was healing fine and fast. His brain just needs to realize he's ok and wake up. May visited a lot and talked to you. She felt like another mother to you. In fact, all the women you met through the Avengers were your mother. Well, Shuri was a little older than you, so she's your older sister. You refused to eat and got ticked off at anyone who tried to get you to. Of course you couldn't die, but starving was slow and it hurt. Eventually, Wanda had to put you in a dreamlike trans in order for them to put an IV in you. You couldn't leave Peter, you couldn't.

One morning you woke up from the side of Peter's bed and saw his eyes open and him sitting up.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I woke up in the night and the nurse brought me water and said you haven't left me since I got here." His hand went up and whipped away a tear that you didn't realize was falling.

"You got me there Parker. Don't ever scare me like that again. I thought I'd lost you."

"I won't and you can't get rid of me that easily." He kissed your forehead as you kept smiling through the tears. "Now we better eat before we get suffocated in Aunt May and Mr. Star's hugs."

"Agreed."

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writingarchangels · 5 years

Text

Hail the King (Nickifer)

Pairing: Nick/Lucifer

Characters: Nick, Lucifer, Castiel, Sam, Dean & Chuck

Word count: 1.5K (first chapter)

Total word count: WIP

Triggers: Dark fic, mild gore, blood, Nick has a hammer, major character death, (smut in a later chapter), loads of death and destruction - I think I got all now? Let’s just say that this is darker than canon and not for those faint by heart

Spoiler warnings: s14e19 Jack in the Box & s14e20 Moriah

Written for the ‘Dark!AU’ square of the Lucifer Bingo (the entire story, more or less) & the ‘Nick’ square of the Swan Song Bingo. A later chapter will be used for the ‘Wing Kink’ square of the Lucifer Bingo.

I also made an artwork to go by my story :) Added at the bottom

Mod tags: @swansongbingo @spnluciferbingo

Also this story WILL NOT be continued on Tumblr. I don’t post full stories on Tumblr. If you like to follow this story, subscribe to it on AO3 - I will add a link at the very bottom of this.

Rising from the fires of Hell with dark promises of death and vengeance, Nick sets out on a mission to burn down the world and bring his beloved angel back to his side.

Crowned the King of Hell and belonging to a new and powerful species, he faces down his enemies in order to archive his goals.

They had never seen anything like him before. Even the most skilled demon didn’t know how to handle him, and they groveled before this man who had lost all and didn’t know fear. Out of all the damned souls on the racks, he didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he didn’t beg… he was just quiet with this feral smile on his face and eyes burning with unspoken promises of destruction and death. Every single demon in Hell knew that when he turned… he would bring a whole storm with him of the likes that no one had ever seen before.

He would force the world down upon his knees, the demons knew deep within their cursed beings. And they couldn’t wait for that moment to come.

Already they had begun to whisper his name amongst each other, whispers about the still crownless king of the fallen men. They spoke of his ruthlessness and his bloodlust, how he stood up against the Winchester’s and led them when no one else would while still being a mortal man, and how close he was to Lucifer and all remembered his willingness to bring him back - the Great Archangel who was the Father of All.

It wasn’t a secret that demons weren’t fond of humanity. But this one? Lucifer made him perfect.

And what a demon he would become, everyone knew.

It’s time.

Time was fluid in Hell. An hour became days. Days turned into weeks, which became months and then years. Years until he turned and said goodbye to the last shreds of his humanity.

Nick’s hands balled into fists and a smile slowly formed on his lips as he felt the last of his soul burn away and turn into smoke and ashes. The newly created demon tilted up his head and breathed in deep as the screams of Hell rose up all around him. The scent of sulfur and ashes strong. Once he had been the tortured, and then he became the torturer. Looking up at the poor soul strapped up before him, he carelessly tossed his tools towards a demon standing close-by. He had better things to do and something to take care of. The demon gave him a wide-eyed look, bowing her head and stepping back when realizing what had happened.

Walking through the halls of Hell, all demons watched him go silently, following him almost doubtfully yet with a certain purpose to their steps. No one stopped him or asked any questions when Nick went towards the throne room.

He stopped right in front of the throne and took a second to look down at it before he swiftly turned around to face the demons who had followed him. Hundreds, perhaps even more. And they all looked up at him with their faces full of a dark hunger and expectation. “No one would object, would they?” Nick asked them. He didn’t yell yet his voice was heard all around the room. As he expected, no one spoke up and so Nick slowly sat down in the throne. The throne which had once belonged to Lucifer, Nick’s beloved.

Then his eyes flashed for the first time since he got turned and a murmur rose up from the room; rising and falling like the waves of the treacherous sea. For Nick’s demonic eyes weren’t like any seen before.

They were a demon black like the darkest abyss that stole away the light, yet his pupils glowed a fiery red much like Lucifer’s once did. And around the red was a circle of an icy blue, burning like cold angelic fire.

Lucifer’s influence went beyond perfecting Nick’s personality, it had touched his soul in ways no one would expect. Lucifer had some of Nick’s soul, and Nick always had some of Lucifer’s grace in him; they were bound together. When the fires of Hell burned away Nick’s soul, the angelic grace stayed untouched and instead fused together with the demonic energies, which created something new… something better.

Nick became part demon… and part Archangel.

And then, as if on cue, all of Hell sunk down on its knees and bowed before its new King. A king who was crowned in the blood and fire of the damned.

“So,” the Nephalem on the throne spoke with a smirk, “shall we begin?”

The countries of the world fell one by one as the demons raised Hell on Earth. Being a Nephalem, Nick had opened the Gates to Hell rather easily. He opened all of them and allowed Hell to come pouring out, he emptied the pits, unleashed the Croatoan virus upon an unsuspecting world, and even managed to bend the Shedim to his will; allowing them to devour and slaughter as they pleased. The world didn’t stand a chance.

As a human, Nick was a nobody. He used to be bullied, neglected and beaten. Now it was his time to strike back and make them pay. But his demons had to obey one rule. One rule only.

“Stay clear of the Winchester’s.”

Nick wanted to be the one to claim their lives. He wanted to be the one to watch all the hope leave their eyes and crush their skulls in his bare hands. He wanted to take everything away from them, everything they ever cared about. He wanted to have them watch on as he destroyed the very world they loved so much. They should feel the despair and helplessness at being unable to stop anything - Nick wanted to completely shatter them beyond repair.

And he knew just the way to do that.

Having chosen a nice place to carry out the next step of his plan, the Nephalem nodded his head and summoned his powers. He had no more need of summoning circles or rituals… he could simply will it into existence and it would happen. This time was no exception.

Castiel appeared out of nowhere, right in front of him, looking as confused as it could get. “Hello, Castiel,” Nick casually greeted him as if speaking to an old friend.

The angel looked up, startled, but his expression quickly turned to horror when his eyes fell on the entity before him. At his otherworldliness… and the raw power coming off him. “Nick?” He tried. The Nephalem smirked in confirmation. “No, that cannot be. You died!” And then he noticed their surroundings; the mutilated bodies of all ages scattered around them, laid down to - ironically enough - form a Devil’s Trap. The horror and agony were still clear to see on their expressions, and then he saw the blood which covered Nick head-to-toe, the bloodied hammer laying by his feet, and he knew who had done this.

Nick clicked his tongue, shaking his head oh so slowly. “Oh Castiel,” he said, sounding almost pitiful, “you should know more than anyone that no one ever truly stays dead. I went to Hell… and became King.” His eyes flashed to their unusual coloring and he showed the Seraphim his immense wings; they were black-leathered like a bat’s, stealing away the light, yet the wing arms were covered in a pink plumage; the feathers fluffy and sparkling, and the top of his wings was covered in sleek and strong feathers.

Castiel looked horrified. “What are you?” He blurted out, taking a step back from the winged being with the eyes that unnerved him more than anything. As an angel, Castiel had seen many wars and battles, yet from all the terrors he had faced… nothing petrified him like Nick now did.

“Something new,” Nick shrugged, folding up his wings again as his eyes turned back to their usual blue. “Half-Archangel, half-demon. The demons call me a Nephalem, if it helps any.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Clearly it is not, or I wouldn’t be here,” Nick replied, placing his hands in the pockets of his military jacket the demons gave him. Castiel took that moment to jump forward and stab Nick with the angel blade he always carried around.

Just for the blade to shatter when it as much as touched Nick’s skin. The Nephalem arched up a single eyebrow. “You should have known that wouldn’t have worked,” he said. “I am not an angel, Castiel. I am something more.”

“What do you want from me?” The Seraphim asked, stepping back even further. Nick could sense his fear, and he enjoyed every second of it.

Nick held up his hand and played with his lips as he stared the scared angel down. “You are a message. To the Winchester’s,” he told him. Castiel’s face paled when reality settled in and he turned around, planning on running away, but Nick reappeared in front of him with a flutter of his mighty wings. “You cannot run from me with those clipped wings of yours,” he said, “don’t worry. I will keep you recognizable enough.”

Snapping his fingers once, Castiel’s grace exploded within his body in a burst of light. And then the angel dropped dead. Kneeling before him, Nick ripped open his trench coat and shirt and went to work, carving a message into his flesh for the Winchester’s to see with an angel blade he whisked into existence, right before he sends Castiel’s body off to appear right in front of them.

I-A-M-B-A-C-K

~~~~~~

An artwork of Nephalem!Nick. Took me 3 hours with IbisPaint X and the total layer count is 25. I’m pretty proud of it :) I love his eyes and the design of those wings XD

I got bored so I made a bonus artwork lol This is like an anatomy sketch-thingy of Nick’s wings? I quite like them. This one took me about an hour, maybe?

Fun fact: Nick originally wasn’t supposed to be a Nephalem in this story - just some kind of demon XD But I don’t think my story quite wanted that and then this happened :’) It got a life of its own, man

Tag list: @luciferstempest @gabrielsbackbitches @jgvfhl @staycejo1 @blakechaos08 @qslucid @i-miss-balthazar @franthehorsegir

Asked to be tagged for this specific fic: @humongouscandycoffee (if you wish to stay on my tag list, just ask :)

(I’m too lazy to add my Bingo cards. So deal with it)

IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED AS WELL, JUST ASK!!

AO3 link to continue reading

So far it’s only the first chapter tho. But more is coming pretty soon

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minijenn · 6 years

Text

Chille Tid: Alternate Ending

For Week 1 of the UF 3-Year extravaganza, I give a slightly alternate take on Chille Tid: Part 1! (graphic blood warning!)

——-

“Hey kid, mind hurrying up here! I kinda have other places to be! You gonna take the deal or not?!”

Steven woke up from his internal thoughts as he looked down to the hand that was still ablaze with blue flames outstretched before him. Right before him was the possible solution for everyone’s problems. Bill would finally get what he wanted and might finally leave him and his friends alone, Dipper would finally be able to be reunited with Lapis and be happy again, and Steven himself would be able to feel what it was like to really be human. All the young Gem would have to do was to give up his gem and all the powers that came with it. He would lose his shield, his healing spit and everything else that makes him unique. But what was all that compared to the health and happiness of his friends and family? Wasn’t that his job as a Crystal Gem, to protect others no matter the cost?

“No tricks, no lies,” Steven asked with caution. “You promise if I give you my Gem, you’ll free Lapis and leave us alone?” Bill rolled his eye, obviously annoyed at the young Gem’s reluctance. “Come on, Rose Bud! This isn’t like that phony deal I made with Pine Tree. I actually get something valuable from this! Why would need to trick you with this?! Now are you going to give me that girly rock now, or are you going to let Water Wings suffer down in the lake and have Pine Tree be miserable for the rest of his short existence?!” That was the final straw for Steven. He now knew what he had to do. Giving up his gem and his place as a Crystal Gem was a small price to pay if it meant that Dipper and Lapis could finally be together again. He really wished that there was another away, but he really had no other choice. Besides, this meant that a whole new chapter of his life was about to start. Now, he wouldn’t have to feel so different from Dipper, Mabel and Connie anymore. Now he could finally experience what it was really like to be a human being, just like his mom wanted him to be before he was born. Without his gem, he didn’t have to feel burdened by some destiny he could never really grasp. With a firm nod, he outstretched his hand. It was time to just be Steven Universe.

“A-Alright Bill, you got a deal.” Steven shakily said. As he grabbed the dream demon’s hand, both of their hand lit up in the blue fire, although Steven didn’t feel the flames burn his hand. The soon-to-be former Gem had done it. He had sold away the one thing that made him unique from the rest of the universe, but it would be worth it. It would be worth it to see his friends smile again and fully experience his humanity. However, he was rather confused when after a few seconds, Bill just stared at the boy. Steven decided to break the awkward silence. “So uh, are you just going to snap you fingers and remove my gem like that last time we were in Mr. Pines’s mind?” he asked. The triangle gave a small chuckle at the boy’s question. “Well, normally this kind of procedure would take a considerable amount of patience and skill to do properly. Unfortunately, I left my tools at home, so we’ll just have to settle with THIS!”

Before Steven could question what the dream demon had meant by that, every single thought in his head halted to a stop when he felt the piercing pain in his stomach. As soon as he finished speaking, Bill’s other hand had morphed long, sharp, black claws and swiftly dug themselves into the boy’s stomach. The demon only looked on with glee as Steven gave a loud, agonizing cry out into the endless, black void. Words were unable to properly express how much stinging pain the poor boy was feeling at that moment. For a second, Steven could’ve swore that he actually saw his life flashed before his eyes, from his time with the Gems to all of the great adventures he had this summer with Dipper, Mabel and Connie. From those memories alone (and possibly from the intense pain), tears began to flow out of the boy’s eyes. Finally, after what felt like hours of unbearable agony, Bill finally removed his hand from the former Gem’s gut.

Steven collapsed to his hands and knees onto the invisible floor that was below him. Every tired pant that he let out only caused more pain in his abdomen. Steven was terrified to even look down at his stomach to see the amount of damage that the sadistic triangle had caused. However, it turned out he didn’t have to look down to see the extent of the demon’s handiwork. The former Gem’s eyes went wide as saucers as blood started to pool in between his hands. The amount of blood was so great, the boy was able see a reflection of his pained, confused face in the pool beneath him. Steven finally decided to look up at Bill, who was laughing manically as he now held his prize. In between the demon’s claws was Steven’s pink gem, only now it was stained with blood instead of its normal pristine state. “It’s just like I told you all those years ago, Quartzy,” Bill said to the bloody gemstone. “I always get what I want, one way or another!” Bill then pocketed the gem behind him, supposable storing it somewhere else. The demon then floated back down to the injured boy, hands on his sides. “Woo! You would believe how deep I had to dig in there to get that whole rock! But more importantly, congratulations Rosebud!” the yelled as he threw a handful of confetti into the air. “You are now officially, one hundred percent, grade-A human! So, how’s it feel?”

“I…I-“Steven tried to tell the dream demon, only to be cut short as he started to cough up blood. The boy cringed as he wiped his mouth, but still had a strange metallic taste in his mouth. As if breathing wasn’t hard enough, talking seemed to only be more painful for the poor boy. Bill merely gave a dark laugh at the former Gem’s suffering, obviously enjoying this situation more than he should have. “Oh yeah, I probably should’ve mentioned,” the demon started to explain. “It turns out the human body doesn’t really function very well when there’s a giant hole in the middle of it! The good news is that it won’t kill you right off the bat, although the bad news is that you’re probably not going to like the next few days! But you never know, your anatomy is sort of as messed up as your hopes for the future!” Bill continued to laugh as Steven shut his eyes both in frustration and pain. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that his new body would be less resilient than his former on, but he had made the assumption that Bill would just use his powers to remove his gem in a less direct fashion. However, even though the former Gem was now in the worse state of agony that he had even been in his life, he knew this was still worth it. Because now Bill had to uphold his end of the deal. “Alright, you…got what you wanted…now you have to…save Lapis!” Steven managed to say, albeit with a few bloody coughs in-between.

Bill ceased his laughter and looked back to the injured boy. “Oh right that. Well, don’t you worry there, Rosebud! I am a triangle of my word, and I’ll make sure Water Wing gets free from that lake and back with Pine Tree…..as soon as she’s unfused with Stripes!” For a moment, Steven’s heart dropped like a stone. “W-What?!” he also managed to yell out of shock and confusion. Bill rolled his eye and let a sigh of frustration. “Look Rosebud, if you remember correctly, the deal was that I would save Water Wings from the lake. The last time I checked however, it’s Water Stripes who’s trapped in the lake right now! Therefore, I have no obligation right now to fulfill our deal! Oh, but don’t worry, Rosebud! As soon as Water Wings decides to unfuse with Stripes, I’ll swoop in and save like her knight in shining armor! Although, that might take a while considering that Water Wings is pretty determined to stay stuck with Stripes because she wants to “protect” you and Pine Tree for some reason. Oh well, I’m a patient guy!”

Steven felt broken. He felt beaten, defeated and broken. All he wanted to do was save Lapis so that she and Dipper could finally be happy again. All he wanted to have was to experience the humanity that had alluded him all these years. He was willing to give up anything to get those desires, even if it meant giving up the other part of him that made him special. And now that he had finally went through with that choice, it turned out it was all for naught. Steven had given up his Gem that his mother had entrusted him with for nothing. Lapis was still, and probably forever, be trapped in a toxic fusion. The former Gem then remembered that it was Dipper that had asked him in the first place to go back into the Dreamscape again to try and find Lapis. The boy hung his head in shame. Not only did he fail Lapis, he failed Dipper as well. Some friend he was.

Steven was about to say something in protest, but the dream demon quickly pressed his finger to the boy’s lips and shushed him. “Shhhhh, no take backs, Rosebud,” he whispered in Steven’s ear. “Besides, your gem belonged to me way before you were even born. I guess Quartzy didn’t want to pay the bill herself!” The injured boy was rather confused by Bill’s cryptic statement, but the demon had floated away from him before he could ask for further elaboration. “Welp, I really appreciate you giving up your gem like that,” Bill said, deciding it was time to wrap things up. “Really, I do! It’s gonna be very useful in the future, trust me. Normally, I would say that I’ll see around soon, but I think we both know that ain’t happening! Don’t worry about the other Mystery Twerps though. I’ll keep a close eye on them, just for you! Anyway, good luck getting the blood out of your PJs! SEE YA!” With a quick flash of light, the triangle disappeared, leaving Steven alone in the dark, endless void. The former Gem felt awful; physically, mentally and emotionally.

——-

“Steven! STEVEN!”

Steven suddenly awoke to what sounded like Pearl calling out his name. When the boy woke up a little bit more, he checked his surroundings to see that he was back in his room again. He was back to where he, the twins and the Gems had decided to sleep for the night. A wave of relief washed over the boy, grateful that he was finally free from the dream demon’s torment. However, something didn’t feel right with him. Almost as if he had an empty feeling inside.

“Guys, I’m up. What’s the…problem?” Steven said as he stood up, only to pause as he looked at everyone in the room. All of them were looking on in horror as they just stared at Steven silently. Pearl and Dipper were looking as if they were witnessing a car crash, Amethyst was seriously cringing, and Mabel looked queasy and frighten at the same time. As Steven wondered why they were all looking at him in such a manner, he unconsciously rested his hand on his stomach. Alarm bells went off in his head as he felt something warm and slightly sticky. He slowly raised his hand to his face to see that it was painted red. The boy’s mind was racing as he slowly looked down to his stomach. His cozy, sky blue pajama top was stained with dark crimson that covered his whole abdominal region. Steven wanted to scream at the mere sight of this, but he was in too much shock to utter a sound.

“What just…how did this happen?!” Pearl said, trying her best to contain her panic. “I don’t know,” Dipper answered the white Gem. “There was this sudden flash of light and now…this happened!” Steven began to panic more and more as he began to feel a growing pain in his stomach. Had Bill really just ripped out his gem, leaving him with such a grizzly wound? He needed further confirmation for this. Steven grasped the ends of his shirt and slowly lifted it from his stomach. The damage was absolutely devastating. Where is belly button should have been was what could only be described as a crater deep into his gut. Dark, red blood oozed out of the wound, leaving the bottom portion of his clothes and the floor beneath him stained with a sickly crimson. Steven had no words on how to describe how Bill had maimed him. The others didn’t react to the wound very well either. Pearl let out a terrified scream from seeing her precious ward so injured. Dipper was startled by the wound and backed a few inches away from the injured boy. Amethyst was the only one who could respond to the reveal with actual words. “What….What the f-“

The purple Gem was interrupted when Mabel swiftly covered her mouth with both hands and rushed out of room. The sight of the pussing wound was too much for the poor girl’s stomach to handle, which caused her to start vomiting once she was outside of the Temple. Back inside, Steven began to feel woozy as he fell back onto his back again. He began to cough again, blood slowly trickling down from the corner of his mouth. “Pearl, I don’t feel so good.” Steven weakly said. It seemed that talking was getting harder and harder to accomplish and breathing wasn’t exactly comfortable either. Pearl rushed over to the injured boy and gently pressed her forehead to his in an attempt to at least comfort him. “Oh Steven,” Pearl cried out, tears running down her cheeks. “It will be okay! Just stay calm, you’re going to be okay! We just to…to…I…” The white Gem was starting to majorly panic. She was in too much duress to activity come up with a plan at the moment. Fortunately, Dipper stood up and began instructing the panicking Gems on what to do. “Amethyst, go get some clean towels so that we can stop the bleeding! Pearl, we need to call Connie, her mom’s a doctor. Go outside and get Mabel, she knows her number!”

The Gems wasted no time in carrying out the boy’s orders, with Amethyst rushing into the nearby bathroom and Pearl hurrying outside to find Mabel. Now alone with the former Gem, Dipper rushed over to Steven, careful to not get any blood on his skin or clothes. “It’s going to be okay, Steven. Help will be here soon. Just stay with me!” Steven looked up to the worried expression Dipper was wearing and remembered something. Something important that he needed to know. “Dipper,” Steven muttered, trying not to cough up more blood. “Bill, he…came to me while I was looking for Lapis and…” Dipper’s eyes widen in alarm at the mention of the demented demon’s name. Was he the one responsible for this? “Steven, did Bill do this to you?! How?! How did he take your gem?!” Steven let out a moan in response, but still manage to speak a little bit more. “He…said that if I gave him my gem, he would free Lapis from the lake. I did what he said, but he tricked me. I’m sorry, Dipper. I couldn’t….save Lapis.” The former Gem slowly closed his eyes, but not before a single tear went down his cheek.

“STEVEN!” Dipper yelled out in panic, assuming that the worse had happened. Thankfully, this didn’t last long as the boy noticed that Steven was still breathing and concluded that he just passed out from the intense pain. This wave of relief did not last long, however, as what the former had told him began to really sink in. Steven had made a phony deal with Bill almost exactly like the one he had made with the demon earlier this summer. The inquisitive boy began to wonder why on Earth Steven would do something like that after what he saw at the sock opera, but then it hit him a truck at full speed. He was the one that persuaded Steven to go back in the Dreamscape to find Lapis again. His recent actions and attitude was what lead Steven into a desperate action of making a deal with Bill. It was clear now, Dipper had made Steven to make the same mistake he did with Bill, and now he was paying for the consequences.

Now it was Dipper turn to begin crying now, as he realized how much of the blame actually feel on him. One of his best friends was going to possibly die because of him. “This is all my fault!” he muttered to himself. He then notice that he had accidently gotten blood on one of his hands. Dipper could only stare at his hand painted red with his friend’s blood with both horror and guilt.

“This is all my fault!”

#universe falls #sumbission #submission #OOF #BLAZER #WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO THAT POOR CHILD #FUCK #IM ACTUALLY MAD AT BILL THAT MOTHERFUCKER #IDK WHY I AM ITS NOT LIKE I DIDNT JUST RELEASE A CHAPTER THAT FEATURED HIM BEING A DICK #BUT DAMN THIS IS ON SOME OTHER LEVEL WOW #uf fan fics #uf 3 year anniversary extravaganza #chille tid part 1 #blazer's oneshots #blood warning #i love the oneshot but i did have to put that warning #and put it under the cut just in case

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mia-cooper · 7 years

Text

Ficlet: Casualties of War (K)

From my prompt me post:

@eyetagonthebridge said: It’s spider season in UK atm, I was watching tv last night and a huge one ran across the floor right at me. I shrieked like a little girl! What if KJ or C hates spiders and needs the other one to spider-wrangle for them? x

I may not have followed the prompt exactly, but here’s a bit of nonsense.

He’s really outdone himself this time.

“Mr Neelix.” I can hear the ice in her voice, and it sends the object of her ire into paroxysms of trembling. “Would you care to explain why you elected not to follow the correct biocontainment protocols when you beamed this … substance aboard my ship?”

Neelix’s whiskers are quivering almost as ferociously as his voice. “Ah, ah, well, Captain, you see… I, er…”

“Never mind,” she cuts him off, cracking like a whip. “Just fix it. And you, Commander,” she turns her glare on me, “I want you to supervise every move he makes. Personally.”

“Uh…” I’m starting to tremble internally as much as Neelix is on the outside. “Captain, I don’t think –”

“Well, that makes two of you.”

Ouch. She’s really steamed. Still, I try again. “Captain, it might be better if I have Tuvok take over. I’m really busy with the –”

“I don’t care what you’re busy with. Just fix it!” she snaps and stalks off.

Shit.

“Well, Commander,” Neelix has already regained his joviality with the captain’s exit, “where shall we start? Er, why are you backing away, sir?”

I force myself to stand still. “No reason at all. So, where did they all go?”

“Oh, all over the place, most likely,” he says cheerily. “Agile little things, they are. And they can jump like they’ve got springs in their legs. All eight of them,” he snorts.

I cringe.

“And those webs they shoot out are terribly sticky, but you learn to avoid them pretty quickly. Just make sure when you grab hold of one, you get both hands around its belly. It’ll flail around a bit, but as long as you hold on you won’t hurt it.”

I can’t help it: I whimper.

“Is something wrong?” Neelix’s orange eyes focus on me.

“No,” I mumble. “It’s just that … well, I’m not … I don’t really like…”

“You’re afraid of spiders?” Neelix asks at the top of his voice.

“Shh,” I hiss at him, glancing around. Sure enough, half the crewmen in the mess hall are staring at me and snickering.

“They’re perfectly harmless, you know. Just big. And ugly.” Neelix pats me on the shoulder, then chortles. “Who’d have imagined it? A strapping fellow like yourself, afraid of a few little creepy-crawlies? Ha ha ha!”

My teeth are gritted. “Not so little, in this case.”

“Oh, they’re only about the size of a Starfleet padd, Commander. And as I said, they won’t hurt you.”

“Maybe not,” I grumble, “but they’re sticky… and all those legs… and you said they jump.” The last word comes out more like a groan.

I can see Neelix is trying to be sympathetic, but there’s a smirk flirting with the corners of his mouth.

“If you like, I can go first into the Jeffries tubes,” he offers oh-so-helpfully.

“Let’s just get it over with,” I growl.

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

“What was that?” My voice is an octave higher than its usual register.

Neelix glances back over his shoulder at me. “Commander?”

I scoot backward in the cramped Jeffries tube, hugging my knees to my chest. “I saw something move. Over there.”

Neelix squints. “You’re right! There you are, my little beauty!”

He scrambles forward and makes a grab for the eight-legged horror. It scuttles sideways. He lunges. The arachnid abruptly changes direction and launches itself directly at my face.

Oh Spirits. The hairy legs! The plump body! The beady eyes! The terror as it spins its slimy, glutinous web from an orifice in its belly!

I’m screaming like a schoolgirl in a haunted house, batting wildly at the Thing that’s malevolently gripping onto my hair with its horrid little feet. I can all but hear its awful thin spidery voice cackling at me. The web is sticking to my face and uniform. I can’t breathe…

“Commander!” Neelix is shouting, grasping without success at my hands. “Hold still! The poor little thing, it’s terrified of you!”

If I wasn’t so preoccupied with being absolutely petrified, I’d laugh. Or slug Neelix in his spotty, spider-loving, non-alien-food-barrel-scanning face.

Finally, with a particularly wild flail of my arm, I manage to dislodge the fuzzy crawler and fling it halfway down the Jeffries tube. It ricochets off the wall and drops to the deck with a splat, then scuttles away into the distance.

Neelix is lying on his back howling.

“What is it? Did it bite you?” I’m still shaking, but I’m his superior officer and it’s my job to keep him safe.

Neelix can barely speak, but he manages to pant out, “Oh Great Tree… your face… oh my, Commander … I haven’t laughed so hard in ages!”

I feel like curling up in a ball and crying.

“Janeway to Chakotay.”

My heart is still racing as I tap my combadge. “Yes, Captain.”

“Have you and Mr Neelix cleared my ship of vermin yet?”

“Uh…”

Neelix leans over and speaks into my combadge. “Hello, Captain, it’s Neelix. Commander Chakotay and I are making good progress. We’ve almost managed to trap one of the little critters, so I’m sure the ship will be de-spidered in no time.”

There’s an ominous pause, then: “Are you telling me you haven’t managed to trap a single spider yet?”

“Err…”

The venom in her voice could out-poison a Terellian tree spider. “Mr Neelix, when you requested permission to beam up three cartons of leola root, I agreed against my better judgment. When you took it upon yourself to circumvent the proper transporter protocols for biomatter, I considered having the whole shipment flushed out of an airlock. But if you don’t contain this infestation, I’ll beam the whole lot into space with you inside. Now get it done!”

Our ears ring in the sudden silence as the comm snaps off.

“Don’t worry, Commander,” Neelix offers, perking up. “I have an idea.”

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

It takes two hours to reconfigure the sensors to detect each furry hell-beast and set up forcefields to trap every last one of them, adjust the fields to allow a stun-set phaser beam to penetrate each one, and scoop up each unconscious arachnid into an empty flour sack. The task is made ever more onerous by Neelix’s never-ending chatter about the anatomy of the chubby little creepers, loaded with advice about ‘facing my fears’ as he swindles me into doing the scooping.

But by the time we’ve collected every last one, I have to admit his theory has some merit: I am finding the plate-sized creatures less horrifying. I’m even beginning to take an interest in the brown and bronze striations on their fuzzy little carcasses and the short little front legs that look a bit like kittens’ paws (or so Neelix claims). And when Neelix rhapsodises about their bugged-out little eyes, which he claims are ‘adorable’, I find that I no longer feel as though my spine is attempting to forcibly climb out of my body.

Contrary to Neelix’s optimistic exclamations, though, I doubt I’ll be actively seeking contact with any kind of arachnid any time soon.

Finally, all the spiders are sleeping peacefully in a containment field in Sickbay, and I trudge wearily back to my quarters, desperate for a long sonic shower. My quarters are dark as I step inside, navigating on autopilot. I’ve already stripped off my jacket and started pulling off my turtleneck when something large and furry strikes me in the chest.

Screaming like a startled targ, I hop from foot to foot, brushing frantically at my violated body. How could we have missed one of the horrible creatures? And where the hell did it go? I’ve kicked off my boots and am halfway through yanking off my pants, terrified that the crawly horror has found its way inside my clothing, when I hear it.

That low, throaty, distinctly evil, very familiar chuckle.

Shaking but forcing myself to remain still, I croak, “Kathryn?”

“Lights,” she says, and I blink at the sight of her and almost scream again.

She slinks toward me, all skin-tight fishnet and enormous winged collar, her stocking garters flashing at me through the split in her skirt with every step. As she moves right up into my personal space, her long eyelashes sweep downward and her talon-like fingernails trail across my shoulders.

“Not Kathryn,” she husks. “Arachnia, Queen of the Spider People.”

She hooks a finger into my belt, and I’m starting to tremble for a different reason altogether now.

“I hear you’ve had a very interesting time today with my minions,” she murmurs. “Did the big bad Maquis manage to face his fear after all?”

My hands are busy mapping the exposed parts of her skin under that body-stocking, and my lips find their way to her throat.

“And here I thought you didn’t like spiders,” she purrs, slinking her arms around my neck.

“I’m starting to come around to …”

But the last of my words are muffled as she takes my mouth with hers. And I decide that I like contact with this particular arachnid very much indeed.

#miawrites #ask prompt #eyetagonthebridge #ficlet #ridiclet

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cloversdreams · 7 years

Photo

(typed version below for those that don’t want to try and suffer understanding my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad handwriting… I highly recommend it)

* * *

“Welcome to eternal damnation you bad, bad boys.”

Izuku opened his eyes at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. He looked over at the smirking blond before himself for a second and immediately noticed his horns and bat-like wings. Izuku’s own feathered wings twitched at the sight. Those horns, those wings, that pointed tail, the red outfit, and the devilish smirk all meant one thing-

“Demon.” A voice hissed.

Izuku looked to his left and saw not one but two familiar faces. “Kacchan? Shocchan? What’s going on?”

Neither of them took their eyes off of the smirking, yellow haired demon. Shoto’s wings twitched in irritation as he said, “Never take your eyes off a demon.”

The yellow haired demon rolled his eyes then said, “Yes, yes, I’m a demon. I would say it’s nice to meet you… but it really isn’t.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Katsuki demanded to know.

“Couldn’t agree more, let’s get right down to business.” The yellow haired demon nodded and then snapped his fingers. A clipboard appeared out of thin air and he let his eyes wander over it slowly. “Says here that you three were plotting some sort of revolution blah blah-oh! Here we go! Extremely high levels of lust from all three of you! Nice!”

Izuku immediately averted his gaze from the amused demon. Sure he might have had one or two impure thoughts but it wasn’t like he could ever act on them. Why was it such a crime? He gasped when he realized that the demon had said all three of them were guilty of said thoughts. That meant- ! He looked over at Shoto and Katsuki to find that neither of them would look at him.

The demon’s gaze fell to each of their loincloths in turn as he purred, “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised to see that your anatomy has changed a bit since you got here.” He couldn’t help but laugh when all three sets of eyes widened at once. “Don’t worry about it. Shit like that wasn’t allowed up there but down here it’s encouraged. Why else would we give you the means to fulfill your darkest fantasies?”

“Shut up. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Shoto snapped.

“Oh, but I do. I’ve known the pleasure of having a fallen angel in my bed for the past two hundred years.” Right on cue, there was a sudden crackling sound and another being appeared. This one had black, feathered wings and red hair that was flat against his head save for two sections in the front that stood up like makeshift horns. He walked up behind the blond and slid his arms around his waist. The blond smirked at the surprised looks he saw as he hummed, “You three remember your former brother, and my current lover-”

“Kiri? Is that you?” Izuku couldn’t help but shriek.

The redhead smiled from ear to ear as he replied, “Hey guys, long time no see. You’re absolutely gonna love it here. I know I do.” He smiled as he nuzzled the blond and then nipped at his ear.

- x -

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presumenothing · 7 years

Text

it’s a bird, it’s a plane,

it’s a cloud of detective bats, coming to a crime scene near you!!

or, my first (and probably overdue) Official Contribution™ to halloweenverse au here on tumblr dot com, with long-distance bats to @deductionfreak and @aonomiki aka my conan and heiji enablers respectively

it was, perhaps unsurprisingly, difficult to have a sleepover when neither of you actually needed to – well, sleep.

...this was possibly a problem they should've seen coming. maybe.

not that conan claimed himself to be an expert on sleepovers or anything, but he was fairly certain a proper one was going on over at the toyama house right now, involving at least a reasonable amount of sleep (because ran was there and she'd already made a list of things she wanted to see in osaka tomorrow, which she wasn't going to give up for anything short of a double homicide).

meanwhile, it was quiet enough in the hattori residence that conan could hear hattori take a breath in the moment before he spoke.

"y'know, I heard from the witchy neechan that you've lately been spending an unusually large amount of time in..." hattori paused, waving around in what was presumably an attempt to catch a particularly low-flying word. "...bat form? is that what it's called?"

"well, it is more than one bat, so I suppose the plural would be more accurate." conan glanced over. "but I assume that wasn't your original question."

"actually – " hattori frowned. "I mean, have you ever counted how many there – well, you are? is it, like, a fixed number?"

"have you ever tried counting yourself?" conan asked dryly, though the question was obviously rhetorical. "usually 20, and still not the question you were about to ask."

the sound of hattori clamping down on his next irrelevant question was probably audible from hokkaido. "right, yeah. anyway. excessive bat time. what's up with that?"

a moment of silence passed between them, only filled by the slightly static crackle conan associated with heiji recharging.

"...bat time, really? that's the best you can come up with?"

"shut up, it's accurate ain't it?" hattori muttered. "besides, now you're the one stalling, don't think I wouldn't notice."

"right, because you're observant about everything except kazuha," conan said as distinctly as he could with his face buried in a pillow, ignoring the sound of protests. "ugh, I can't believe ran put you up to this."

"well, she didn't exactly ask, I just – I overheard her telling kazuha about it, and she did suggest this trip herself for once, so – " hattori sat up, tugging at his pillow (halfheartedly, because both of them going at full strength would probably leave it in tatters). "c'mon, kudo, I'm here to help. even kazuha's noticed something off about the two of you, and I don't want her upset."

"in case you lose a limb again?"

"not funny, kudo. believe me, even being a vampire won't protect you from a properly angry kazuha."

conan grabbed his pillow back, hugging it as he turned to stare at the ceiling. "honestly, it's... nothing too major, really, just – I guess bats kind of perceive space – or spatial dimensions – differently? especially when it comes to my own size, and..."

"...being twenty small bats is better than being one small human, is that it?" hattori asked when he didn't continue. conan nodded –

– and let out an oof of surprise when another pillow (hattori's, confirmed by the faint spark of a static shock) landed squarely on him.

"you're right, kudo, it's nothing too major," came hattori's voice from somewhere beyond the impromptu upholstery fort. "because suddenly losing your body as you know it is nothing major at all. no big deal."

conan opened his mouth to say something –

"trust me, I would know," said hattori, with enough irony to rival haemoglobin.

– and shut it again abruptly.

"you're a real idiot sometimes, kudo, did you kno-" hattori dodged the pillow thrown his way, and snickered. "I'll take that as agreement, I think."

"I don't know, you're usually more complimentary towards my intellect," conan grumbled. "now hush, some of us need to sleep."

"no you don't!" hattori announced cheerfully, and conan promptly went bat(s) as one dubiously resurrected detective pounced onto his bed.

hattori attempted to glower at him.

this was considerably complicated by the need to do so in nearly two dozen directions at once, and also by the fact that hattori had tripped over and yanked out his charging wire while doing so.

"owowow," muttered hattori, wincing-or-glowering in some vague direction over the chorus of wings as five bats dove down towards where the wire had fallen. "thanks, kudo, I really apprecia–"

hattori looked up,

and saw the same five bats rapidly gaining height as they held on to his charging wire, all while being careful to stay clear of the live end.

"–'ppreciate it," heiji finished flatly. "very mature, kudo. ha ha."

flapflapflapflapflap, went the five kudo-bats, as they stopped rising to hover two feet above where he was lying down, safely out of reach.

"you can't stay up there forever, you know." heiji paused. "besides, I can just – "

flapflapflapflapflap, went all the other kudo-bats, as they promptly landed on him before he could move to get up.

heiji glared. various numbers of bats stared back, depending on the direction he looked in.

(he had a sudden and foreboding premonition of himself being stuck here until tomorrow morning, pinned down by – heiji did a quick headcount – yep, 20 holmesian bats who were going to take it in shifts to replace the ones holding his charging cord up in the air, all while he slowly but surely ran out of battery.)

"c'mon, kudo, you can't stay up there forever and I feel like I'm talking to myself," heiji said, in a completely sensible and reasonable manner. he didn't know much about bat anatomy, sure, but he was fairly certain that bats weren't supposed to be able to shrug.

twenty bats shrugged at him, including the five who somehow failed to drop out of the air or lose any altitude at all.

(this was ridiculous. they were ridiculous. it wasn't like heiji hadn't seen kudo hitching a ride on the neechan's witch hat, so he knew that the bats could cling onto clothing just fine, and even if any of them fell off they could literally fly, so there was really nothing stopping heiji from getting up right now and –

well. except that dying had done no favours for his night vision, and the last thing he wanted or needed was to accidentally step on and/or electrocute any kudo-bats, because that would be a quick road to homicide via witchy neechan if kudo was out of commission tomorrow, and he didn't think even kazuha could revive him this time.

ugh.)

heiji rolled his eyes and reached up to tug a pillow under his head. if he was going to resign himself to getting stuck here, at least he could do it in comfort.

two of the bats that'd been on his arm took flight as he moved, swapping places with another two who'd been holding up the wire.

"anyway," heiji continued when relative peace had been restored, "you should tell the neechan. she'd understand, you know."

the airborne bats rose another foot, which was about the highest his wire could go.

"you don't want to tell her?" heiji raised an eyebrow. "why, because – that'd remind her that she can't fix whatever curse thing you got?"

the bats went down by half a foot, which heiji took to mean that he'd deduced correctly.

and it wasn't like he didn't understand, kinda – kudo didn't want to make that neechan feel guilty about stuff she couldn't fix, which. well. given the still-improbable stunt kazuha had pulled when it came to him, he wasn't really in a position to say anything.

but, still. letting her worry wasn't much better, at least not in his book, so. “if you don't tell her, I will."

that got no movement on the bat front, though he distinctly felt like he was getting something of a judgemental look from the bat in his direct line of sight – the same kind of Look kudo had when things weren't living up to his particular standards.

the effect was further enhanced by the distinct cowlick each kudo-bat sported.

"...fine, you're right, I wouldn't do that." heiji sighed, and wondered: did each of the bats get allotted 5% of kudo's brainpower, too? or was it more like... cloud computing, maybe, some hive mind thing?

(okay, jeez, he'd never paid attention in those classes – with good reason, they'd never been directly relevant to him and actually still weren’t. he knew enough about the physical characteristics of each species insofar as crime scenes or fights were concerned, of course, but otherwise... his lack of knowledge of other aspects was slowly but insistently becoming apparent.)

his thoughts were interrupted by a yawn, which was more a habit than necessary reflex by now. "point still stands, though, so work out something to tell her before she figures it out herself. and you'd better return my charger now, unless you really want to explain to kazuha and your neechan why we have to stop and look for a high voltage electrical outlet midway through sightseeing tomorrow."

the kudo-bats let out a collective squeak of justified terror at that, and descended with due haste and a wire before collectively swooping down on the backpack he'd brought along.

heiji plugged himself back in before sitting up to watch the bats tug open the bag's zipper and dive in to retrieve – a string of magician's scarves?

...nope, heiji corrected himself, the pieces of fabric were too misshapen to be anything scarf-like, and looked almost like –

one dropped in his lap.

– yep, tiny bat sweaters.

twenty of them, in fact, wielded by a flock of suspciously innocent-looking bats that apparently constituted the Detective of the East.

now in bite sized form, his mind supplied. some rivalry this had turned out to be.

he picked the sweater up, and the bat who'd dropped it circled down to hang upside down from his hand, wings tucked neatly in on either side.

was it the same one from before? maybe, maybe not. honestly, heiji didn't think anyone but the neechan could tell, they all looked too identical each other. and speaking of which – well, witch –

"your neechan made twenty sweaters for you?" he asked, and the bat nodded as heiji flipped it right side up and tried to figure out how to put the tiny garment on. "I don't think kazuha even knows how to knit human-sized ones.”

the now-sweatered bat gave him another of those Judgemental Looks as it shuffled along up his arm to make way for the next bat to land.

heiji shook his arm slightly, and the two bats yelped, wings flailing as they clung on. "fine, fine, I wouldn't be here without her stitching skills, okay?"

the bats appeared to agree with that, from how they were forming a mid-air queue as he put yet another sweater on.

each one was a different colour, he'd quickly noticed, so it was just as well that they hadn't just dumped all of them in his lap at once. that'd have been like a multiple choice question with a negligible 1-in-20-factorial chance of getting the correct answer.

(or, again, basically impossible for anyone who wasn't kudo's neechan. he was starting to see why the two of them were inseparable – in the literal sense, sometimes.)

anyway: bat, sweater, bat, sweater – it was a pattern he was quickly getting the hang of, though he paused halfway through to complain about the massive weight imbalance until the bats deigned to redistribute themselves evenly over both his arms.

he'd pretty much lost count by the time he reached the last bat (dark red sweater, this time), and heiji contemplated the veritable rainbow of bats now dangling from both his arms as he helped to tug the sweater on. "we're real lucky to have them, ya know."

dark-red-sweater-bat chittered in response, and the others echoed in apparent agreement, though they sounded a little sleepy.

well. he supposed that was to be expected – vampires might not exactly need sleep, but kudo was practically a baby by their standards (much as heiji himself tended to forget that) and that probably counted for something.

the bats took flight again – in erratically clumsy paths that landed them on the bed in a haphazard patchwork of knitwear and bat – as heiji tugged at the covers and lay down, trying not to dislodge anyone. "g'night, kudo," he said between yawns.

he was answered only by the briefest flap of wings, and then –

heiji grinned. it wasn't like he was going to tell anyone that kudo-bats snored, was he?

not for now, at least.

(it's futile, heiji, ran already knows and she thinks it's c u t e)

then they somehow overslept and heiji accidentally overcharged himself and therefore spent the rest of the day bouncing off walls rip

EDIT: NOW CONTINUED HERE

#dcmk #detective conan #halloweenverse au #hattori heiji #edogawa conan #mine #fanfiction #i wrote the first 500ish words of this on my phone at 1am this morning and i have the chat logs to prove it #and also the last 750? who knew discord mobile was good for focus lmao #anyway i wAS NOT EXPECTING THIS TO BE EVEN 1K SO #whoops re: the lack of capitalisation #idk i like it like that too #*rover rolls off into the martian distance*#file under: fic written while either half-asleep or very caffeinated

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magicgeekponsol-blog · 7 years

Text

||Event Drabble||

Title: “An Heir’s Complaints” Synopsis: Ponsol’s POV about what he thinks about the upcoming party that he’s been preparing for. Word count: 1,864

I absolutely dread this upcoming party that was going to be held on Halloween. Dreading it. Honestly, if the world could implode that day, I would be pretty happy if not for the fact that I’d then get upset a mere seconds later because then all my hard work would be for naught.

Do you know how hard it was to convince all those old cronies that the help of the nearby shops would be beneficial for them? Not only would good relations be created between the shops and the corporation, but there was certainly going to be more revenue if popular shops were to be joining in on the festivities.

With shops aiming to be festive but also wanting to promote themselves by showing off their own work at the party, it gave them, the corporation, less to worry about. Some space at the ‘Milky Way’ was given to them as they rented out the entire place for the night. Various stores were then given their own spots to set up booths or whatever else they wished to erect at their spot to attract customers.

There was no limit on what it was they wished to do at their own store run areas. Now there was also a bar that was going to be supplying alcohol for those who wished to have some more fun during the party, but the bar tenders were going to be given strict instructions to be very careful about how much alcohol to give to the customers, and of course, bouncers were going to be present for obvious of reasons. Drunk people reasons.

A suggestion of making the costume runway into a costume contest was made, but I quickly shot down the offer as judges would have to be made present and if it were a contest, then that would require even more effort on all of the staff. People would have to adhere to a strict code of conduct, an age limitation may be placed, and of course, a prize would have to be given. Not only that, but judges would be needed, and not only that but a certain minimum of entrants would be required to make the contest worthwhile.

Most contests required an entrance fee and he did not think that for a joint party such as this, should such a contest be necessary. This party was for fun, and a contest would take the fun out of things. People would stop at nothing to win, and dealing with cheating was not on my to do list, thank you.

It then dawned on me to just simply have it be a runway. The staff can at least make sure that the costumes were appropriate before letting people show off their costumes on the stage before they walk off of it.

Haah… truly this was very troublesome but I had to be in charge of most of it, and of course as the main planner of the event—I would have to be there. It’s in the during the week, so that I just going to tire me out, especially since I’ll have to be there for them tearing down the party too. Do you know how long that could take? DO YOU?

Most likely by the time everything was said and done—it’ll be at or past the time I normally sleep at. Don’t even get me STARTED on how much sleep I’ll lose just trying to set everything up. I have to get the catering preparations prepared, approve of all of the costing and funding for the party, and look into the working personnel.

All the shops in attendance had to fill out forms and get their plans approved, and that of course means, that I have the second to final say on what is accepted and not at the party. Even if one of those old cronies have a problem with my ruling, it’s simple enough to just state my case and get them to agree with me. Most of the time they’re only disagreeing to just get under my skin.

Sometimes I just want to kick them down a flight of stairs, quite honestly.

Well, a small infrastructure inside of the ‘Milky Way’ was being designed to be used as a mini-house of horrors for people and kids alike to enjoy. A lot of it was going to be jump scares and some people dressed up in scary costumes. Sound effects, lighting, and of course even a fog machine would be utilized. Not too much smoke will be used of course, for health and safety regulations.

All costume designs will be approved by me prior to allowing the purchasing department and the financial department to do their jobs. That old man was making this a project to force me to do more work that he doesn’t want to do—and to just I don’t know, ‘prove’ that I’m fit for the job. Fuck that, I’ve BEEN fit for the job, are you shitting me right now?

Just because some of you are BUTT HURT over the fact that the ‘better’ of the brothers didn’t get the position, it doesn’t mean you can write my achievements as infinitesimal. I can be just as good as my brother, but when it comes to social events, I’ll show you that I can be the only one who I fit for the job. Do you want to know what Shugarl would do in a situation like this? Nothing. He’d simply state that a party for Halloween was stupid.

‘Trick or Treating exists, so shouldn’t that be enough?’ I could see him saying something like that, or ‘Halloween is for children and college kids. They will have their own parties. Why should we make our own?’

The guy was a stick in a mud, that’s what he is. Well, he does have a point, but this is a good way to get their name out there. Not only that, but they can help other smaller stores and establishments. It creates good networking, and also helps them with their own revenue. The flow of money through the community was a great way to keep the community healthy and strong.

Promoting growth was something they should do as a big power in Akounri. That’s why this party is being held. This started with someone (that someone being me) hearing from the grapevine that some of the stores were thinking about holding an event themselves, and then ‘suggesting’ something to the big man anonymously. He loved the idea and he called to order a meeting.

It was brilliant planning, really. I was pleased by my results, but I wasn’t too pleased to know that all of the responsibilities were dumped onto me. Just my fucking luck.

You know what? The catering for the party is going to be an issue, now that I think about it. People now a day are just so unprofessional sometimes. Does it matter what my age is? Does a ‘proxy’ mean nothing to do? If I’m coming on the behalf of someone else, and I’ve got my own card and attendant to match, then just do your job.

Okay, I do know that things are more complex than that, but do let me complain, won’t you? It’s not often that I get to complain to anyone, even in my mind. I’m too busy for that now a day. That old man needs to lay off my back or I’m just going to end up passing out—again.

Well, whatever. I’ll just stop there for now and focus on the real important topic at hand. You see this here? Look, if I move my arm like this--- that’s right. Did you see that movement there? Did you see how if I turned my arm like that, the feathers expand out. Certain parts of the wings are connected to a brace, so certain movements of my body will cause the wings to move. It will either span out or in. I was creating black wings. There are many tutorials out there that detail out how to make rather realistic wings, wouldn’t you know?

One that I’ve found on one of those artsy-sites is very good. She detailed everything and started out with a biological explanation—and this pleases me. She knows the anatomy of birds and how the wings move. The way the wings are created used this principle and that’s what results in a realistic looking wing.

I made mine black in color rather than white because I thought it would be a nice contrast between my hair color. Obviously, there was going to be a limitation on the kinds of props you are allowed to bring, but making your own fake weapons are not against the rules as long as you used lightweight materials. I planned on making a sword that I will attach to some chains.

I enjoy the image of chains so I wish to add those to the look. I’m not too sure on what I plan on doing with the outfit just yet, but I do know that I want to make use of a temporary face tattoo. Making some snap on fangs would be nice. Horns? A tail? No, no tail.

Horns though, that was something to look into. I think colored contacts would be cool. One that made your eyes look like slits? Should I change the color or keep them gold? Red would be nice.

Fake long nails to work as claws would be nice. If you couldn’t guess already, I was thinking about being some kind of monster. Probably a demon of some kind. A humanoid one, don’t worry. I won’t be giving anyone heart attacks at the party. What kind of host would I be if I let that happen, right?

Just in case anyone else brings a scary costume in, paramedics are on standby.

Let’s see, how long have I been working on this—Oh shit. I have to be down at HQ in an hour to meet with those old bats. Shit shit shit! I didn’t get nearly as far as I wanted to on these wings. These are taking longer than I thought they would! I started I started working on all of this last month and I’m still only this far.

Hm? Of course, I’m going all out. I’ll definitely be on that runway at that party. I’m great at sewing and creating things so I’ll definitely be making my own costume this year as well. Halloween was a great time as any to show off my skills. Don’t chastise me.

What was I last year you ask? A gruesome zombie. It truly put my good looks to shame, but I’ve made multiple people trip over themselves in fright. One poor girl passed out, even. Good times.

Before that, I was—you didn’t ask? Does it look like I care? I’ll tell you anyways that the year before that I went as a humanoid dragon. If I am going to use horns for this look, I’ll probably remodel the dragon horns for this year’s costume.

Shit, 58 minutes. Alright, time to go. I’ll continue this mental complaint session another time.

#neo's fic #Fateloween #Ponsol ic Drabble #Fateloween Drabble

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zrtranscripts · 7 years

Text

Season 6, Mission 24: Mother’s Little Helper

Animal Hospital

PHIL CHEESEMAN: All right, this is the mic feed. [speaker squeals, PHIL CHEESEMAN hisses and whispers] That is not the mic feed. So, um... this is the mic feed?

ZOE CRICK: I thought Sam took you through all the equipment earlier?

PAULA COHEN: He was getting Sara her breakfast at the time. She sees vegetables as more of a missile than a food.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: It's okay. I think I've got - [gunshots] yeah. Covering fire. Well, that's exactly what I was going to tell them to do. Right. Right. [clears throat] Okay. So today you're going to Meerkat Manor, the animal sanctuary.

ZOE CRICK: Meerkat Manor? Oh my God! Oh my God! Well, why didn't you tell me that's where we're going?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Because I knew that'd be how you reacted, and I was kind of hoping you'd concentrate on the mission rather than meerkats so you don't get eaten by zombies.

PAULA COHEN: And the mission is to collect psychiatric drugs – antidepressants and antipsychotics, mainly. There's an arrangement between all UK territories, even Sigrid's, to exchange them at a neutral point.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Yep. In an animal sanctuary.

ZOE CRICK: I am literally going to heaven.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Yeah. Uh, this is a nice, light mission for everyone! Five, we just thought, you know, with your Moonchild... problem, it might be better for you to do more non-Sigrid missions for a while.

PAULA COHEN: After what you told us Moonchild had done to you, without your consent, without any possibility you could even answer back... oh, it's awful! I can't imagine how you feel, Five. We just want to see if we can find something that helps with your Moonchild susceptibility. Veronica thinks she might be able to put together an earpiece that could counter the voices, but until then, yes. A few less Sigrid missions.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Which is not to say that this isn't an important and dangerous mission. You need to be out of there by nightfall.

PAULA COHEN: Zoms?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Pumas. So get going.

ZOE CRICK: Uh, Phil. The gate?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Oh God, yes! Sorry, sorry! [clears throat] Raise the gate. [gate siren, gate raises, PHIL CHEESEMAN whispers] Now run!

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Okay, guys, you've reached the zebra enclosure. Make sure you close that gate behind you.

[gate clatters shut]

ZOE CRICK: Ooh, I can see them in the distance there! [laughs] Grazing by the little spruce copse. Oh, this is much nicer than the last place they had the exchange, isn't it, Five? Honestly, who thought picking up antidepressants in a former abattoir would be a good idea? [laughs]

PAULA COHEN: I didn't know you'd done this run before, Zoe. I thought you and Phil were mainly Jamie wranglers.

ZOE CRICK: Well, since I'm one of their biggest customers for Sertraline, it seems only fair to help with supply.

PAULA COHEN: You have depression? Oh, [laughs] I don't know why I'm sounding so surprised. You always seem pretty cheerful. But presumably, that's because the meds are actually working, which is what they're supposed to do.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Zo's lucky the SSRIs do the trick for her. One of my cousins had depression, and nothing worked for him. He ended up... yeah.

ZOE CRICK: Yeah. Look. Look! [laughs] Up ahead! Is that an owl enclosure?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: According to the map, yeah. Mostly just barn owls, though.

PAULA COHEN: You say that like it's a bad thing.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Hey, Zo, have you ever met the guys who run this place?

ZOE CRICK: No. Why?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Nothing. Just if you asked me to list the qualities of your dream man, "runs a meerkat sanctuary" would be near the top. Ooh, I know. Let's stay here tonight! See if anyone catches your eye.

ZOE CRICK: Don't be silly. [laughs] Paula needs to get back to Sara.

PAULA COHEN: Oh, not really. Sam and Maxie can look after her.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Go on. What have you got to lose?

ZOE CRICK: Look, if you must know, I'm seeing someone at the moment.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: What? Who?

ZOE CRICK: No time to explain. [laughs] I need to see those owls. Come on, Five, race you!

[owl hoots]

PHIL CHEESEMAN: There's no time to look at the owls, Zo. You need to get moving or you won't get to the med exchange before dark. Zoe? If you get moving, there's a capybara field up ahead.

ZOE CRICK: Oh!

PHIL CHEESEMAN: There we go.

ZOE CRICK: You know, when I was a teenager, Mum used to drag me to this urban farm near us when I was feeling low. [laughs] I've spent more time staring at pot-bellied pigs than you can possibly imagine.

PAULA COHEN: Did it help?

ZOE CRICK: No, not really. Well, that's the thing about depression, isn't it? You're not depressed because there's nothing nice in your life. You can't enjoy anything nice because you're depressed.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Ooh, wait. Um, I think I just switched on one of the local camera feeds.

PAULA COHEN: You think?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Yeah. Ah, I can see the three of you! Honestly, Zo, Jamie's right. You need to work on your gait. You can damage your tendons that way. Also, there's about 12 zoms following you.

ZOE CRICK: You do kind of suck at this.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Yeah. So since I might have accidentally lead to your untimely deaths, before you die, is there anything you want to share with me?

ZOE CRICK: I'm not telling you who I'm dating, Phil.

PAULA COHEN: It's not Runner Nineteen, is it? He seems like your sort.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Oh, yeah, he really does.

ZOE CRICK: He's allergic to nuts.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Right. Is that... bad?

ZOE CRICK: No man's worth giving up pad thai for.

PAULA COHEN: Even now?

ZOE CRICK: Well, we might find the ingredients to make pad thai again.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Ugh, those zoms are really decayed. They look like those anatomy paintings that always gave me nightmares. Better speed up, guys. Run!

ZOE CRICK: Those zoms are pretty nippy for shamblers.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: They are basically skeletons with bits of stringy flesh hanging off them. Probably makes them quite streamlined.

PAULA COHEN: It's strange, having to be scared of zoms again. The first time I saw some out of the gate with the cure, I just... stood there. You had to push me out of the way, didn't you, Five? I'd honestly forgotten they could hurt me.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Please try not to forget it again. Sam would skin me alive if I let anything happen to you.

PAULA COHEN: No, he wouldn't. He'd be very, very upset, but try to convince you it wasn't your fault. [laughs] It's nice though, in a way, having the same fears as everyone else. And Sara. Yesterday she sneezed, and this little bubble of snot came out.

ZOE CRICK: Ugh, that's... lovely.

PAULA COHEN: But I got to wipe it away! And then I got to hug her and run my fingers through her hair! Oh, it's so thick and dark now. She definitely takes after Maxie there. I feel... I feel like I've rejoined the human race.

ZOE CRICK: That's sort of what coming out of a bout of depression feels like. When you're in it, everything's behind a glass screen. You can touch it, but you can't touch it. And then suddenly, everything's there again, in full color.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Yeah... Zoe. Speaking of touching things, or you know, people -

ZOE CRICK: No.

PAULA COHEN: We won't gossip about it.

ZOE CRICK: It's not you telling anyone I'm worried about.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Oh. Oh! Someone embarrassing, isn't it?

PAULA COHEN: There is no such thing as an embarrassing partner if they make you happy. Oh, tell us, Zoe. We won't judge you, I promise.

ZOE CRICK: I can absolutely 100% guarantee that you will. Come on. Those zoms are catching up. Let's move!

PAULA COHEN: Is it my imagination, or have we picked up more zoms?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Yeah, and this is bad, but there's a place up ahead where they nurse injured bats. There's one in there at the moment with a broken wing.

PAULA COHEN: And why is that bad, exactly?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Because Zoe will want to stop and look at it.

ZOE CRICK: But it's a bat with a broken wing, Phil. A bat! With a broken wing! [laughs] Oh, if that doesn't make you feel all gooey inside, you're basically Satan.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Okay, but you have like, fly-by gooey feelings? Those zoms are getting closer. Also, pumas.

ZOE CRICK: Pumas!

PAULA COHEN: I have to ask, Zoe: is there any animal you don't think is adorable? Cockroaches? Blue-ringed octopuses?

ZOE CRICK: Octopuses are the best.

PAULA COHEN: So that'd be a no, then.

ZOE CRICK: But you see, this is my depression test. Do octopuses make me feel gooey? Yes? Not depressed. No? Starting to get depressed again. It's how I know I need to go back on the meds.

PAULA COHEN: That's... actually quite sensible.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Okay, guys, you need to get moving. Those pumas look hungry, and they'll pick off the slowest.

ZOE CRICK: So don't be slower than the zoms?

PAULA COHEN: That's usually a good idea. Come on.

[gunshots]

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Doing great, guys.

PAULA COHEN: But the zoms are catching up to us! If Five hadn't shot those two in the lead, they'd have caught us already! I – I think I'm scared. Yes? I'm definitely very frightened.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: It's going to be okay. You see those two cedar trees up ahead? There's a net hanging between them. It's on the plans as a security measure. Uh, there's a switch for it on the ground. Once you're through, you can drop it on the zoms. Then the pumas can eat them. You just have to get to those trees. Only, um, maybe a bit faster?

ZOE CRICK: I'll give the zombie apocalypse one thing: at least no one asks me what I've got to be depressed about anymore.

[lever creaks, rope net drops]

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Chocks away. That... yep. It's got them all. You're safe.

PAULA COHEN: Oh, good! [sighs] And up ahead looks like the exchange point. So now you can tell us, Zoe.

ZOE CRICK: You don't give up, do you?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Please?

ZOE CRICK: Absolutely not.

PAULA COHEN: Oh, God. I've just realized who it is.

ZOE CRICK: How could you possibly know that?

PAULA COHEN: Because I've heard your show. You've got no shame. If it was anyone else, you would have told us. I'm right, aren't I?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: That's a really good point. She's got you there, Zo.

ZOE CRICK: All right. Fine. You're right. It's Amelia.

[PHIL CHEESEMAN gasps]

PAULA COHEN: What?!

ZOE CRICK: You said you knew.

PAULA COHEN: I thought it was Jamie! You two always seemed to get along really well. I thought you two had to keep it quiet because he's, you know, the King of England.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Amelia. Amelia "Never Had a Friend Who Wouldn't Double-Cross" Spens. Amelia "Heart of Pure Stone" Spens. That Amelia?

ZOE CRICK: You promised you wouldn't judge.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Oh, I'm not.

PAULA COHEN: I am!

PHIL CHEESEMAN: All right, I am, too. What the hell, Zoe?

ZOE CRICK: I was thinking she was there, and I was horny, and you've got to admit – hang on. Why aren't there any people at the meds station? There're always people there. I was looking forward to a chat.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Stop changing the subject.

PAULA COHEN: No, Zoe's right. It's deserted. And I can see a red sign over the table where the tablets are stacked up.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Oh. Uh... oh, you're right.

ZOE CRICK: What does it say?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: It says, "Sorry, Abel Township, but this is the last time you'll be welcome here. Sigrid's offered us the cure. We can't turn that down. It's needed here more than anywhere. We've left you meds on the table. Don't come again."

#zombies run #zrs6 #s6m24 #mother's little helper #zr transcript #zrs6 spoilers

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theo-la-dora · 7 years

Text

Ink Stained: Chapter 3 Coffee Cups

Read here or on AO3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Chapter 3 Summary:

In which coffee is used to neutralize curses, Laura should definitely reconsider her choice in jewlery and Carmilla has no concept of doors. Also, Betty needs bleach. All of the bleach.

On Monday, Carmilla waited for Laura on her doorstep.

Her hair was cut short, inky tips that framed her jaw like they'd done at the club and she held two take-away cups of coffee in her hands. When Laura saw her, she almost toppled over from surprise - which would’ve been unfortunate as the concrete sidewalk and Laura were not the best of friends on any given day.

“Morning, cupcake,” Carmilla drawled, seemingly amused at Laura’s wide-eyed, not quite awake state when the girl just blinked at her owlishly. “Thought you might need this.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Laura blurted out, not quite ready to adequately process Carmilla being on her doorstep in a way that didn’t feel like pulling teeth, but always open for caffeinated beverages.

“Quite literally, I’m sure,” Carmilla quipped with a considering look at the dark circles under Laura’s eyes, causing the girl to sheepishly rub at them as they started walking towards the next underground station. “Another eighteen-hour workday?”

“Well,” Laura said, hitching her backpack up higher. It was quite a lot heavier now that she’d started carrying around bear spray everywhere. “Not all of us can turn ‘woman of mystery’ into our chosen career path, you know?”

“Pray tell, what’s your favorite pastime if you so categorically dismiss mine?”

Laura grinned up at her from beneath a knitted hat with a snowflake on the front. “Sometimes it’s not all that hard to believe you were a countess once, Miss Karnstein,” she teased.

“Lies.” One corner of Carmilla’s mouth twitched upwards. “It’s all lies.”

“I know. Because then you’d have manners, right?”

Unamused, Carmilla threatened to shove her in to the bustling traffic, not quite managing to hide her grin when Laura yelped. “I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now,” she grumbled, shaking her head fondly when Laura almost choked on her own giggles.

And the coffee. Definitely the coffee.

“Well, you did bring me coffee,” Laura acquiesced as they walked down the steps of the underground station. It was messy and full of people and Laura had to be careful not to stumble over them because the girl next to her was all kinds of distracting. “So that counts for something.”

“Oh, so I’m a good girl now?” Carmilla’s expression turned from playful to suggestive in five hot seconds and Laura’s face burned brighter than a fire engine. “Never knew it was that easy.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Laura said, a bit sarcastically. “Easy.”

“Not a word I’d use to describe you, cupcake, but far be it from me to dictate someone else’s identity.”

Laura glared at her. “You’re the worst.”

“I thought I was a lifesaver?”

“You’re becoming more of a nuisance with every second.”

They’d reached the platform, the arrival board announcing that the next train would arrive in two minutes as the familiar smell of the Toronto public transport system surrounded them. “Did you know that I once followed you down St. George’s station? I felt like such a stalker that day and I swear you-”

Laura suddenly swiveled around to face a sheepish looking Carmilla who apparently found great interest in the life-sized advertisements on the other side of the platform and wouldn’t meet her narrowed eyes. “Carmilla…”

“I was curious, okay?”

“But why were you-“

“Is that my phone number?” Carmilla was evidently also quite skilled at the art of deflection, because she picked up Laura’s wrist, pushing back the sleeve of her coat to examine the black numbers more closely. “Oh, were you feeling sappy?”

Laura yanked back her arm with a glare that could rival that of an angry kitten. “I’m not the one appearing and disappearing like a sodding house-elf all the time,” she huffed out indignantly, ignoring Carmilla’s downright offended expression at being compared to Dobby. “So, you might not share the sentiment, but I actually think it quite reassuring that I can call you like a normal person and not wish upon a star or whatever you people like to do.”

“We write messages in blood, actually. It’s really quite efficient.”

Laura looked like she was two point five seconds away from imploding, so Carmilla quickly grabbed her other hand, produced a sharpie form god-knows-where and wrote another series of numbers down the inside of the still bare wrist before tying a bracelet with what looked like a bat wing around it.

“In case the number doesn’t work, wait there for me, okay Liebling?” she murmured, something unmentionable or other passing in her eyes before she curled her free hand around Laura’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss that tasted like coffee and ink and other promises. “And the bracelet should help keep you hidden from other would-be killers, so don’t take it off. I got to go now, figure out who’s been trying to kill you and shit.”

“Why are you-” The arriving train cut off Laura’s slightly dazed question and she could only watch as Carmilla pocketed the sharpie in the back pocket of her leather pants before throwing Laura one last smirk and sauntering up the stairs.

“Because apparently, I’m a good person now,” was the last thing Laura heard before the train doors closed with a thud. Under the circumstances, it was probably a good thing that the train was packed since only the sheer number of people kept her standing when she carefully pushed back the bat wing charm to look at what Carmilla had written on her arm and realized what it meant.

It was a series of coordinates.

That same day, the mark on City Hall appears on the parliament’s building in Ottawa as well and the uproar that’s previously been exclusive to Toronto takes hold of the whole country.

+++

(Laura checks the coordinates on Google Earth and stares at the picture for almost half an hour.

It’s a cabin in the woods.)

+++

There was a necklace on Laura’s nightstand when she woke up Thursday morning. The pendant was a gemstone framed by metal ornaments and Laura couldn’t help the flip in her stomach when she saw it, sunlight catching in the red of the stone. It had to be another one of Carmilla’s presents, the prettier companion to the bat wing bracelet that was still tied around her wrist despite her roommate’s distaste for the thing.

“Shiny,” Betty grinned, looking up from a gigantic, ancient tome that took up three-quarters of their breakfast table with her reading glasses askew and some marmalade on her left cheek when Laura bounced into the kitchen. “You got yourself a girlfriend or something, Hollis?”

Tugging at the pendant, Laura couldn’t help the smile that spread on her cheeks. The thing between her and Carmilla was… messy at best – not just because of the potential heartbreak, but also because of the collateral damage that came with time travel and its marks which –

Not exactly an ideal conversation topic for breakfast, so Laura just did an awkward head-shake and blurted out, “Or something?” with bright cheeks.

Betty shook her head sternly. “No funny business in any shared living spaces, Hollis. I don’t care what you get up to in your room but I don’t want to have to worry about what’s previously been on my table when I eat breakfast.”

“As if you’ve ever used a table for eating in your life,” Laura fired back, pointing at the literary monstrosity in front of Betty with a bowl of cereal and almost spilling half of it over. “I’m pretty sure I saw you eat pasta in a shower once.”

“Hearsay.”

“I got the photos to prove it.”

“And I have video footage of you singing a love song to your Tardis mug after eating one of Natalie’s special brownies, so don’t get cheeky with me, young lady.”

Laura almost choked on her cornflakes. “Love you, too, grandma.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about. No respect for your elders,” Betty said with about three pens in her mouth and stood up, closing the book with a thud. “So, I’m meeting some people at the library, let’s see if we can’t solve your little… Goethe problem there.” She pointed at Laura’s chest as if it was somehow offensive to her and Laura used her hands to cover herself despite being fully clothed.

“I feel like we’re talking about an Alien growing inside of me,” Laura grumbled into her cornflakes, squirming when Betty tried to pet her head but forgot to drop another two pens before doing just that.

“We’ll get to the bottom of this, Hollis. Even if I have to cut it out of you.”

“If that’s supposed to be reassuring I think you need to work on your empathy skills, Spielsdorf. That was all Sherlock Holmes kinds of awful.”

“I took a few anatomy courses in undergrad,” Betty shrugged. “I could do it.”

Strangely enough, Laura didn’t doubt that.

+++

Fiddling with the necklace pendant, watching it catch the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window, Laura feels a soft kind of hope blooming in her chest as if everything can be alright after all.

(The feeling is strangely familiar but Laura can’t quite say why.)

+++

All day she kept playing around with the necklace, the rough texture and sharp edges a source of constant fascination to her fingers. Laura didn’t realize that something was wrong until she excited her favourite coffee-shop, a steaming cup of double espresso with milk and sugar in one hand, and her legs suddenly started moving of their own accord.

Down the streets and away from campus, faster and faster they took her with no care for traffic or other obstacles and her muscles burned, the liquid in her cup spilling over and burning her hand. She tried to talk, to somehow get her mouth to open but it felt stitched up and then glued together, gums molded like liquid plastic with the taste of sulphur on her tongue. Her eyes went wide, insides screaming and she tried to hold on to walls and street signs, even to people who just moved out of her way as if she wasn’t there and Laura tried to breathe, tried to just breathe –

Suddenly, an arm shot out of an alleyway to grab her and pull her with it and the sudden change of direction almost knocked the wind out of Laura. She was pushed against a brick wall, the smell of street and garbage overwhelming her when she could breathe once again. Laura had to blink one, two times before she could focus on the person in front of her.

It was a woman.

She was tall, dark-skinned and elegantly dressed, her blood red gloves the first thing to catch Laura’s attention as she tilted her head to the side and displayed two rows of perfectly straight white teeth that reminded her more of a shark than anything.

“May I?” the strange woman asked, one glove covered hand wrapping itself around the necklace pendant that Laura had been wearing all day. “Such a nasty little thing,” she whispered, her voice almost caressing the words. Laura was about to protest when the pressure around her neck increased and with a tearing sound the necklace gave way.

She almost toppled over.

“There you go,” the woman exclaimed, holding the necklace up with a satisfied grin. “Cursed, you see? One should never put on strange jewelry, moppet, it’s a recipe for disaster. As for this one…” She looked around as if searching for a place to throw it like Laura had seen people do with bombs in movies, before settling on the cup in Laura’s hand.

“Ah…” She took the cup and, tearing off the lid, she dropped the necklace into it. There was a hissing sound that made the woman only smile brighter as she put the lid back on. “All done. You can thank me now, little girl.”

“I- What the holy – That was my coffee!”

The woman shrugged. “I had to neutralize it.”

“With my coffee?”

“Well, to be honest any kind of liquid would have done the job, but personally I think the caffeine always gives it a nice touch. Not to mention that the atrocity there can scarcely be called coffee.” She scoffed, wiping invisible dust off her fur-trimmed coat. “Even battery acid tastes decent when drowned in milk and sugar.”

Disregarding the stranger’s coffee snobbery, Laura cautiously pointed at the cup as if it could explode any moment. Her limbs still felt weak from the strain they’d been put under as she leaned heavily against the graffiti covered wall. “So, that’s like Voldemort’s horcrux or-“

“In a manner of speaking.”

“So, I should probably thank you for saving my life then?”

The woman let out a long-suffering sigh. “You could. But I feel like you’re going to diffuse into tears any moment now, moppet, and that is not quite my style. So, you can just tell Kitty Kat hello from her sister and we’ll defer this conversation to a more convenient time. Because I have a witch to catch. Or maybe two.”

“Kitty Kat?” Laura blurted out, feeling her vision go blurry.

“Oh, don’t tell me you haven’t figured out that she’s more cat than human some days,” the woman chuckled and then her eyes lit up as she examined the cup again. “Isn’t that interesting!”, she exclaimed, moving her fingers so that Laura could see what she was talking about. “Normally, it should appear on your skin but apparently…”

Right across the coffee shop logo and the hot content warning was a red mark as if stamped on it.

The cartwheel symbol.

“You are-” Laura just stared at her and the woman's smile stretched impossibly wide across her face before she disappeared with a snap, the coffee cup still in hand.

“-one of them, little Holly girl.”

+++

It takes her a long time to get her legs moving again and when she finally manages to get home, she just collapses on her bed and sleeps for ten hours straight.

(Laura's dreams are filled with burning pyres and choked lullabies that night as someone presses a Holly crown on her head, the sharp leaves piercing her skin.)

+++

There was a knock on the living room’s balcony door at half past eight on Sunday evening and it was a testament to all the weird things happening so far that Laura didn’t call the police, but instead grabbed the nearest kitchen spatula, positioned herself next to the curtained door and ripped it open.

“Took you long enough, cupcake,” a familiar voice drawled instead of the squirrel, the potential serial killer or even the life-sized moose she’d been expecting. Laura had to blink one, two times to properly register Carmilla sitting on the balustrade of the tiny balcony, hands buried in the pockets of her leather jacket and a smirk on her face.

“We do have a front door, you know?” Laura deadpanned, spatula still in hand.

“Now that would be boring, cutie,” Carmilla smirked, jumping up and slipping past Laura into the apartment like she owned the place in her shorts and fishnet stockings. “Cute pyjamas by the way.”

“Thank you?” Laura says, fiddling a bit nervously with the ties to said pyjama bottoms that had tiny bows printed all over them. “So, using a fifth-floor balcony as an entrance and half scaring me to death is just for entertainment value then?”

“Not everyone resorts to ice cold rivers to get their kicks,” Carmilla quipped and, taking in the stacks of paper, books and the lone laptop on the couch table next to a plate of cookies, added, “or, you know, investigative journalism.”

“I could have seriously hurt you, you know?”

Carmilla eyed the makeshift weapon from where she was sprawled on Laura’s couch and chuckled. “Doubt that, sweetheart.”

“Next time I’m bringing out the bear spray,” Laura grumbled, pushing combat boots off her favourite pillow and settling in next to her unexpected visitor.

“I’d pay to see that.”

“Yes, well unfortunately I’m not that sort of entertainment no matter how bored you are, so…” She managed to pull up her heavy, five-pound textbook on civil wars in the western world to function as a sort of barricade when Carmilla was suddenly a whole lot closer than before, eyes alight with a sort of mischief that had Laura gulp, thinking about a different night in different lights.

“Oh really?” Carmilla’s voice dropped so low that the hairs on the back of Laura’s neck stood up and she shivered. “There’s nothing I could do to induce you to…”

With a squeak, Laura pushed the girl off her using the heavy tome between them and almost fell off the couch in the process. “Work first, this…,” she gestured between them, cheeks bright red. “Later?”

Looking a bit disgruntled, Carmilla settled back on the other end of the couch, quietly muttering ‘What the frilly hell?’ under her breath when Laura handed her a much smaller textbook and with a shy smile asked, “Quiz me?”

“Are you seriously asking me to help you study?”

“You’re the one barging in here unannounced,” Laura said sternly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Only because you can travel back in time to hand in late essays or study doesn’t mean the rest of us can, so quit whining and help me. I got a quiz tomorrow and you’re an expert in history, right?”

“I feel like you only like me for my brain,” Carmilla complained, eyeing the book like it had somehow grossly insulted her.

“And I’d like you even more for your brain if it figured out who’s been trying to kill me,” Laura said sternly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Your sister sends her regards by the way.”

“You’ve met Mattie?”

“Is that her name? Nice woman, very – interesting. You know, in the could-eat-your-liver, disembowel-you-if-you-get-a-stain-on-her-Louboutin’s kind of way-”

“Laura…”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a meeting per say as she didn’t introduce herself to me. You know, because she was too busy saving my life and all that jazz.”

“Mattie – saved your life?”

“Yes, does evil cursed necklace ring a bell?” The second attempt at ending her life had made Laura just the tiniest bit tetchy and it showed. “It tried running me into traffic but your sister dropped it into my coffee – which, you know, rude, but-”

“So, it’s not just some creep in a car then,” Carmilla sighed, pulling at her hair in frustration. “Which makes sense as I haven’t had any luck so far in tracing down the driver. So much for superpowers, I guess.”

“But how did you-,” Laura began but quickly cut herself off. “You went back.”

It wasn’t really a question and Carmilla just shrugged. “I waited further up the street because two of me in the same place is like trying to press same-poled magnets together, but yeah…”

“Wow, that’s… How does that even work?”

Carmilla looked uncomfortable. “It just does,” she said, an edge to her voice. “It’s not like consciously deciding on a specific time or date, you know? I think about it and then I’m there, no matter the time or place.” She shrugged. “It’s always been like this.”

“Been like what?”

Carmilla seemed to borrow further into herself. “Like this,” she bit out.

“And when you go back and change things, a mark appears?” Laura tried to contain her excitement at getting answers directly from the source because the girl didn’t exactly look happy about it.

“It’s not that easy,” Carmilla grumbled, sighing when she glanced at the eager look on Laura’s face. “A lot of the time the change doesn’t even manifest. Take me playing Nancy Drew for example, stuff like that doesn’t even cause a ripple most days because time is less domino game and more languid river – it takes a lot to make it leave its chosen path and I’m still just one person.”

“But if you do change something…”

“Then it usually shows,” Carmilla said, thumbing through the book Laura had given her as if an introduction to European revolutions was a scintillating topic.

If one liked decapitated people that is.

“So… you saving me from drowning should have left a mark then?”

At that, Carmilla looked up, something flashing in dark eyes and it was just the tilt of a head, that drop in volume but Laura nodded, her heart in her throat when she moved one hand to press it against her sternum.

Carmilla looked hungry for a split second, but then she nodded and turned back to the book. “Maybe we should’ve stuck with revising,” she finally admitted quietly and Laura let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“Yeah,” she said. “Maybe.”

It was quiet from then on. Carmilla kept asking Laura questions in a bored manner, complete with teasing nicknames and small digs at this or that particular historical figure while stealing cookies from the plate. Laura just watched her get caught up in small rants when something irked her, Carmilla’s whole demeanor changing, coming alive and despite the mess they were in, she couldn’t help the sappy smile and the quiet happiness spreading in the space beneath the mark on her chest.

“What?” Carmilla asked when she caught Laura staring, a bit self-consciously rubbing away a few stray crumbs and Laura shook her head, ready to offer a quickly squeaked “Nothing!” when the front door suddenly burst open to make room for a books and bags covered Betty Spielsdorf.

“This is absolute insanity, Hollis. You can’t believe the incompetence of these people – is it really too much to ask them to be prepared and read the freaking material before we have a study session? No! They’re either stressed or their grandmother just died or their bloody dog is having-” Laura almost accurately timed the fifteen seconds it took for Betty to realize there was a third person present in the room and promptly drop her bags.

The girl had always had a flair for dramatics.

“Who is this, Hollis?” her roommate asked, stepping from the tiny entrance hall into the warm lights of the living room, a suspicious frown on her face.

“Betty, Hi!” Laura almost stumbled over her own two feet as she scrambled up to make the introductions. “This is Carmilla, she helped me study for my quiz tomorrow.” A quiet snort could be heard from the girl in question at that but Laura ignored her. “Carmilla, this is Betty. Roommate extraordinaire and my best friend since I started university.”

From the corner of her eye she saw Carmilla eyeing the balcony door and swiftly moved over to close it before the girl could get any ideas.

Carmilla just glared at her and stole another cookie.

“So, you two have been… studying the whole evening?” The sarcasm was practically dripping from Betty’s voice which, in Laura’s opinion, was a bit unfair. She opened her mouth to protest, but didn’t get very far when Betty took a step back, palm pressed against her eyes. “Oh my god, this is a date, right?”

Carmilla and Laura both looked at each other and then quickly away before starting to vehemently protest any such thing but Betty wasn’t even listening to them.

“Bleach!” she cried out, disappearing into the kitchen. “I’m going to need all of the bleach!”

“Is she always so…” Carmilla made several random hand gestures and Laura nodded as if that was a reasonable assessment to make.

“She’s an… acquired taste, I guess? Wait until she starts reorganizing your drawers because the mess is giving her a headache or she and Mel start ganging up on you. Those two, I swear…”

“I can always just go, you know?” Carmilla said with a raised brow. “Doors or no doors.”

“Yeah, because that would be really inconspicuous.”

“Well, you’re the least inconspicuous person I’ve ever met,” Betty drawled, coming in from the kitchen with a bowl of steaming food before settling in a lone armchair. She raised a brow at Laura. “What? You’re letting her eat the cookies without protest. I’ve been living with you for over a year now and I’m still not allowed.”

Carmilla sniggered when Laura was reduced to flustered stammering at that revelation but quickly started coughing when Betty turned to her, announcing that “Vampirella over there isn’t really all that subtle either. What with the heart eyes and everything” which Laura thought was the most hilarious thing since watching Lafontaine try out their new taser in the middle of an Advanced Psychology class.

“She’s not a vampire though,” Laura was quick to point out, earning herself matching “Duh” expressions from both Betty and Carmilla. But something caught the former’s attention because she proceeded to take in their visitor with an unveiled scrutiny that had Laura shuffle her feet nervously.

“No, she’s not, but there’s just something about her…” Laura could see the exact moment it dawned on Betty and she counted two and two together. “Did you tell her?” she swiveled around to face Laura whose face had turned to stone, mouth unwilling to utter a single word.

“Tell me what?” Carmilla interjected, leaning forward, amusement gone from her face but Betty ignored her.

“Did you tell your time travelling girlfriend that you’ve got that mark on your chest since birth?” she continued instead, a considering, almost worried look on her face and Laura’s throat and fingers burned. “Did you tell her it’s been growing?”

“Laura?” Carmilla’s voice was low and quiet. Dangerous even. “What the hell is she talking about?”

Laura gulped, fingers tugging at the hem of the button down she was wearing and she felt so numb –

“She’s right,” she said, head spinning as she started unbuttoning her shirt. No one besides her Dad and Betty had seen this before, because she’d been so careful to not let it show, so very, very careful. “The mark, it’s been…” She pulled the two halves apart, baring the words beneath her collarbones and the mark spreading on her sternum.

The panther skull surrounded by vines.

“It’s been there as long as I can remember. But these,” she traced the words. “These are new.”

Disbelief and terror and something… else warred on Carmilla’s face before her jaw set. Laura wanted to reach out, to hold her back, but she couldn’t, was frozen there with her heart on a platter and when Carmilla disappeared with nary a sound, the only thing she heard was Betty dropping her bowl of food.

And the sound of it shattering.

+++

Carmilla doesn’t come back that night or the next.

Or the next.

Betty’s the quietest Betty can be in her worry and the TV’s blaring news about new marks appearing all over Canada but Laura doesn’t listen.

(She doesn’t sleep either.)

#carmilla #fanfiction #hollstein #Carmilla Karnstein #laura hollis #time travel au

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