#it can be hard to determine what is 'correct' pace and speed

[darkwood-sleddog]

Sometimes i feel weird/behind when my 3 dog malamute team takes like 2 hours to do 10 miles (my average pace with the dogs tends to be 5 mph in good conditions), but i feel better seeing mid/long distance 10 dog sibe teams taking around 2 hours to do 17 miles-ish and i'm like. oh okay i'm good.

[charles-leclerc-official]

Charles let Carlos pass because he was faster in Japan. Carlos does not do the same. It is this kind of thing coming from Carlos that is a prime example of why Ferrari did not re-new his contract.

sorry, I am a newcomer and this is a stupid question, but between teammates what exactly determines which one has the better pace on race day? in this case, i was thinking it's due to Carlos' fresher tyres right, but are there more factors that contribute to having better race pace even in the same machinery between teammates, particularly skill-related ones?

I was reading articles about Charles and they all talk about how fast he is over one lap, or raw pace, if those two mean the same. I know you can't drive on race day the way you drive on quali, but that's about it..

You are correct there are a lot of factors that go into this. (for context the quote anon sent is from my China Sprint 2024 analysis) And discussing some issues that his on track battle with Charles during that sprint presented.

So in Suzuka Carlos was faster, but his race pace was not better than Charles. He was faster because of his fresher tyres. That race in particular was very different for them because they were on completely different tyre strategy.

One thing to remember is that there is a difference between pace and speed.

Speed = being fast over a single lap Race pace = being consistently fast over multiple laps

So a teammate can have one really good fast lap in a race, but their pace could have been not great compared to a teammate.

Skill related factors that lead to better pace:

Corner management: hitting the apex correctly, braking technique Race pace: setting consistent fast laps Tyre management: not burning out tyre too quickly. It's easy to go fast on one lap if you don't care about tyres, going fast while also driving to preserve tyres is harder and a skill that comes down to driving style Throttle: again having fine control over fuel usage to get speed when it matters Finding the grip in the track: this is a thing based on feel, some drivers have better instinct for this than others. Top speed: managing tyres properly can also enable a driver to achieve better top speeds. There are other things as well. But the biggest is taking those corners correctly and getting it right consistently. This also is a factor in tyres and deg. So it's all connected. Which is why of a driver is better at one they are usually better at the others as well.

You can also see how these things are all connected. Tyre management is tied to speed and also race pace. Throttle is tied to speed management which is tied to tyres etc. Balancing all of these things correctly for race pace is hard and why there is so much skill involved.

So to answer your question the difference between teammates does comes down to skill, especially over the course of a race we usually see that gap. And even more so over a season. Now there are always races where one driver has a bad weekend and another is better.

I also will add that there can be a lot of factors outside of a driver's control that lead to something not being suited for them a particular weekend. Sometimes it's track conditions, sometimes they and the team missed the mark on car setup.

[myfriendskickass]

unpopular opinion i guess but you absofuckinglutely CAN determine tone from text, it's how fucking BOOKS WORK and tone indicators are stupid and confusing. If your tone is being misread over text communication, change your wording around. Learn things.

but then i fucking remember that 55% of american adults cannot read longform text at all so of COURSE they don't know how books work! and then i get depressed.

its. i try so so very hard not to fault people for the shit education they had growing up because, no, that isn't your fault! but at this point, when you tell people "hey, here's a way to fix and correct the fact that you didn't learn to read properly" (and yes i KNOW that's still not a thing everybody has access to! I hate that! i want it to be as totally accessible as possible!) and you STILL are like "no"...

look, at SOME POINT, if you graduated high school and cannot actually read long form text and are PROUD of the fact that you can't read books? I have no choice but to think you're fucking stupid and that me being able to read and comprehend books DOES IN FACT MAKE ME BETTER THAN YOU. i hate the current trend of anti-intellectualism so much - being educated is Good, Actually, and it's BAD that education is rife with all the problems it has that prevent more people from being able to access it!

but if you are literally unable to understand long form text and read books at your age level, that does in fact put you at a disadvantage to living life that people who CAN and DO read books do not have. you should be pissed off about the fact that you were educated so poorly and fight to make sure it never happens to another person, not bitch about how elitist academics are.

The gap between me, a person who can read, and someone who doesn't understand how books work is so large that like....i genuinely don't know if we can be friends. I would gladly HELP YOU improve your skills! Because it is unfair you were cheated out of this!

And if you are disabled in ways that affect your ability to comprehend long form text - first of all, same hat. Second of all, that doesn't mean give up? Speed does not matter - i will gladly wait for somebody to finish reading what i wrote and reply/answer at their own pace! Nobody should stay complacent with the idea that they are missing a vital life skill because the education system failed them, I'm sorry.

an aside, btw? tone indicators to me frequently feel like people who say offensive shit and then follow it with "just kidding". just....learn how to communicate through text properly like the rest of us? tone indicators do not shield you from saying hurtful shit, imho.

[luna-rainbow]

meta: recognition

Just wanted to talk a little bit more about recognition and what this meant for Steve and Bucky's meetings.

The way we recognise people is actually complex. Facial recognition is only a part of it - people with prosopagnosia, the inability to recognise faces, are generally still able to recognise other people through different means. This might be from their movement, their gait, their scent, their voice, etc, and the closer we are to a person, the more traits we subconsciously earmark for recognition.

These days, gait recognition is a real feature being explored as a surveillance tool. Once the human brain learns the motor pattern of walking, it's very hard to change it, unless there's injury or if what you're wearing is massively getting in the way. In real life, Bucky's walk would probably have been changed by the prosthesis (but in real life, Bucky's high-tech bionic prosthesis doesn't exist so that point is moot). As we can see from these 2 GIFs, Sebastian's Bucky's walk is still recognisable - the roll of the shoulders, the rotation of the torso (more exaggerated by the unwieldy WS costume) and the tilting of pelvis. There are a lot of features to a walking pattern that you subconsciously memorise - the pace, the step length, the swing of their arms, the movements of their hips, knees and feet, the way they hold their head and torso etc.

I would argue that Steve started to suspect something as early as this scene. Let's think about what he's seen so far: Bucky running across the roof and that one-handed catch. Just like walking, running has a pattern that is very individualised and is highly recognisable to someone close to you.

Further to that, Bucky would definitely have practiced and practiced with Steve all those years ago when Steve first acquired the shield (just as Bucky goes on to practice with Sam in TFATWS). In fact, it's interesting to note here that Steve just does a straight throw, which is one of his early signature moves. Bucky catching that simple throw might be something the two of them have practiced many times before (although obviously not at that speed).

I don't think Steve thought he was Bucky at this stage, because it probably wouldn't have crossed his mind that Bucky was still alive, but he must have noticed the sense of familiarity.

When you think about it, it's interesting that Steve's focus was the Winter Soldier after Nick Fury's "death", and not who sent him. Again, I don't think he has linked it to Bucky, but subconsciously something about the metal-armed man is vexing him and he can't put his finger on it.

Fast forward to the infamous Causeway fight.

Look at that resolve and bracing in his face. It was as though subconsciously he knew this fight was coming. Never mind that the Winter Soldier was a ghost story that people didn’t believe existed and why he would suddenly appear in broad daylight on a crowded highway. Steve with his one braincell felt in his bones that this was the confrontation that was meant to happen. There was a meaning behind it, and maybe that meaning was simply to stop them but maybe there was something else, and he was determined to find out.

Now I'll freely admit that analysing fights and guns is really not my forte, so happy to be corrected here - I assume like many things we do in life, once you develop a habit it's hard to shake. There will be a certain way that Bucky likes to hold, angle, load and aim his guns that will be instantly familiar to Steve.

In that close quarter combat, Bucky goes from handguns to knives. I would imagine most of the close combat moves would be from training that happened after he became the Winter Soldier given that he used to be a sniper, so it might have temporarily tempered that sense of familiarity.

But this scene, along with Bucky's throw of the shield a moment later, must be what bothered Steve the most. It's on a different arm, sure, but none of Steve's other opponents ever picked up the shield like this and had it on their arm the way Steve would use it. This is someone who has a familiarity with carrying, handling and using the shield. Steve doesn't buy that it's just the assassin being naturally resourceful.

Is this an odd move? I think it's an odd move, but I don't think Steve calculated it as much as just functioned on intuition. Something about this guy was plaguing him, so instead of a dozen other moves he could have used to knock out a dangerous assassin who was temporarily stunned by getting hit in the head by the shield, he grabs the mask and pulls it off.

Seeing Bucky’s face was simply confirmation. He’s shocked and in utter turmoil, but there is not an ounce of doubt in his voice when he utters, “Bucky?” There was no question this man - despite the age, the long hair, the icy expression, the vicious fighting style - was Bucky. Steve had already seen all the signs when they were fighting. His questions were only how and why, and what he needed to do to get Bucky out of that zone.

Sometimes I wonder what Steve was thinking on that bridge when Sam said that they will definitely meet Bucky again if they decide to go up against Project Insight. Did Steve already think of the fact that Hydra had purposely brought Bucky out to distract him? Did he choose to go into the fight because he knew that’s what the real Bucky would have wanted? Did he also have doubts about whether Bucky was still there under the Winter Soldier, and even so, he was going to bring Bucky back or die trying?

(Thanks to all my lovely tumblr friends for putting up with my long metas)

[kirayaykimura]

climb on

free space - climbing au

Ryuu back smacked against the mat. He’d been so close to completing the route that time, too, managing to hold onto the sloper for a few seconds before his muscles gave out. But he’d been bouldering for almost two hours and he was eleven; his body was done for the day. 

His mind wasn’t, though, judging by the frown he sent the wall, like he was trying to figure out a particularly difficult puzzle. There was no puzzle. Ryuu was doing everything right, he was just exhausted. 

“Time’s up, kid,” Obi said from his vantage point a few paces away from Ryuu - close enough to see each move but far enough away to avoid falling preteens. 

Ryuu sat up, looked over Obi’s shoulder, and said, “It’s not eight yet.” 

That was correct. It was seven ‘till. Which meant Ryuu’s private lesson still had seven minutes left and he was determined to use his whole time. Two things he did not lack: raw talent and stubborn determination. Good qualities that would get him to the Olympics, but difficult qualities for a coach to rein in before he hurt himself. 

“One more time,” Ryuu said. It was the exact same thing he’d been saying for the last twenty minutes.

“How about we switch it up?” 

Ryuu neither agreed nor disagreed, which meant he disagreed but was raised too properly to say it aloud to an authority figure. Obi absolutely took advantage of his good manners and said, “Let’s do top rope for your last route.” 

“Today is a bouldering day.” 

“And? I won’t tell if you won’t.” 

Obi grabbed Ryuu’s gym bag as Ryuu rolled up onto his feet, and they padded noisily across the thick mats coating the bouldering room side by side. They had the entire building to themselves at the moment, save for the owners and morning crew. Club lessons were at seven in the morning on Wednesdays and Saturdays, then private lessons were sprinkled in throughout the week. Ryuu’s lessons followed club practice on Saturday mornings to build his endurance. It was solid reasoning, but Obi was also determined to get Ryuu to let loose every once in a while. Climbing was fun and athletes weren’t pros forever. What happened when he was twenty-five and all he associated climbing with was a childhood of truncated weekends in the name of training? 

They stepped off the mats and onto the hard concrete that led between the bouldering room and the top rope room, trading shorter ten-foot walls for forty-foot ones with much thinner pads at their bases. This room was an annex of sorts, with only one door in and out. They stopped at a bench in the middle of the room for Ryuu to set his bag down and put on his harness. 

“My challenge for you,” Obi said, “is to find the easiest route and go as fast as you can.” 

“Why?” 

“Speed climbing is totally an Olympic event. We’re training.” 

“These aren’t speed climbing walls.” 

“Humor me.” 

Ryuu’s eyes flicked to something behind Obi. His hands stilled half-way through tightening his harness. 

“What happened,” Obi teased. “You see a beautiful route from across the room?” 

Obi peeked over his shoulder and did a double-take. 

“There’s a girl,” Ryuu said unnecessarily because yep, there sure was a girl. 

A strange, petite girl was sitting in the back corner of the massive room, forearms on her knees, eying the wall that separated this room from the other. 

“Do you know her?” Obi asked. 

Ryuu shook his head. 

“Hello, miss!” Obi called across the cavernous room. 

“Hello,” the girl called back with a friendly wave. 

“Sorry to tell you this, but the gym isn’t open yet.” 

“Oh, I know.” 

Obi shared a brief look with Ryuu, who shrugged infinitesimally, when the girl didn’t add anything else. 

“I’m here with Zen,” she added. 

Izana was going to throw a fit when he found out Zen was taking a girl on a date during lesson hours. But in his very Izana way, which involved less of a fit and more life-ruining actions or words (whichever he thought would cut deeper). Also, Obi was going to have to sit Zen down for a chat about how to impress girls because, while flexing that his family owned a gym and letting her in outside of normal operating hours could be impressive, the overall sexiness of the experience was severely undercut by how godawful early it was on a weekend. 

“Okay,” Obi said, unsure what else he could say. Everything about her was someone else’s problem and he was going to let it stay that way. He had a very uptight kiddo to worry about. Obi clapped his hands once, spun around to Ryuu once more, and said, “You find a fun route yet?” 

Ryuu’s gaze floated over to the wall opposite the room’s entrance. Unlike the bouldering room, where routes of all levels were intermixed, this room was more or less set up as a circle. The easiest routes were just inside the entrance on the right, ending with the most challenging routes on the left side of the entrance. Ryuu was eyeing the intermediate wall, so Obi spun him by his shoulders until he was facing the easiest wall. 

“That purple one looks nice,” he said. 

“It’s a 5.4” 

“Yeah. Lots of good jugs to cool down on.” 

“I could do this in my sleep.” 

“Okay, so do it twice. You’re only allowed to use one hand at a time though.” 

Ryuu still didn’t look convinced, but made his way over to the wall anyway. He unhooked the auto belay from the ground and fastened it to the front of his harness, held onto the belay with one hand, and got into position on the wall. 

“That’s it!” Obi cheered, mostly because he knew it would both embarrass and annoy Ryuu. Judging by the look Obi received in return, he was right. 

Ryuu ran through the route, treating it more like a speed climbing wall than a traditional top rope route, even with his inability to use one of his hands. 

“He’s quick.” 

The girl had made her way over to them while Obi was distracted, evidently, because she was suddenly shoulder to shoulder with him, watching as Ryuu topped out and let the auto belay slowly inch him back to the ground. 

Obi glanced at his watch. A minute after the hour, which meant Ryuu’s lesson was officially over and Obi was free to entertain Zen’s date. While he was off somewhere. Doing something. Yet another thing Obi made a mental note to bring up with him later. 

“He is youthfully spry,” Obi said. 

“What’s the idea behind only using one hand?” 

“He’s pumped out for the day but wanted to keep going. An easy route with a fun challenge was our compromise.”

“I’m not pumped out,” Ryuu said, back on the ground. 

“Are you listening in on private conversations instead of doing what your coach instructed?” Obi faked a gasp. “Are you entering your rebellious phase, Little Ryuu?” 

“I’m just saying, I’m fine to keep going.” 

“Well, I’m not and it’s past your time. Chop chop. Last route, then outside. I’m sure your mom is already waiting in the parking lot.” 

“Could I join you?” the girl asked as Ryuu put his right hand on the wall. She looked between Ryuu and Obi. “One-handed sounds fun. I could do the 5.6 over there.” She pointed a little farther down the wall, which would leave a comfortable space between them while still feeling like they were together on the wall. 

“Have you climbed before?” Obi asked. He needed to make sure she wasn’t going to get herself killed on his watch. Who knew if she’d even signed a waver when Zen had snuck her in. 

“Once or twice,” she said. 

“Good enough for me.” He’d be able to tell if he was really inexperienced before she got off the ground anyway. “What do you say, kid?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Ryuu mumbled. 

Undeterred by his shyness, the girl said, “Great! I’m Shirayuki, by the way. Thanks for letting me climb with you. Ryuu, right?” 

Ryuu nodded at the ground. Clearly his ability to talk to people and make eye contact was fading fast. 

Shirayuki hooked herself into the auto belay system one away from Ryuu, checked to see what hand he was using on the wall, and put her right on the wall as well. 

“Should we race?” Shirayuki asked, sending Ryuu a grin over her shoulder. 

“That doesn’t make sense. Your grade is harder than mine.” 

“This is also my first route of the day. My muscles aren’t tired yet.” 

Ryuu thought it over for a moment, then quietly said, “Okay.” 

As Shirayuki counted down from three, Obi felt his chest swell with pride in Ryuu. This was huge for him; talking and playing with a stranger. It was definitely only pride that was making him feel nice, warm emotions, and not the fact that this stranger was really good with Ryuu. And very cute. With very nice thighs he could see flex under her form fitting leggings. No, he was definitely not noticing anything about his boss’s date and she was not making him feel any type of way. 

Speaking of, Obi could see Zen and Izana heading his direction with a climbing rope. 

“This is harder than I expected,” Shirayuki said cheerfully, about half-way up the wall. Ryuu was almost to the top already. When he topped out, she groaned. 

“And Ryuu is the grand champion of…whatever this is!” Obi cheered.

“What’s happening in here?” Izana asked once he and Zen made their way through the entrance. 

Ryuu winced slightly as the auto belay floated him back down to the ground. 

“We’re done for the day,” Obi said, attempting to take the brunt of the disappointment. This was, after all, his idea. Ryuu didn’t deserve to get scolded for it. 

Izana merely hummed. 

“See you tomorrow, kid,” Obi said as Ryuu hustled over to grab his bag from the bench. He didn’t even stop to take off his harness, just took his bag and beat a hasty retreat. 

“You could stand to be a little nicer to him,” Obi said once Ryuu, he hoped, was out of earshot. “He’s wound so tight already. More pressure isn’t going to make him better.” 

“And yet, kindness has never gotten anyone to the Olympics.” 

“I feel like that cannot be true.” 

The whirring of the auto belay signaled the fact that Shirayuki was done and was returning back to the ground. 

“Hello,” she called down. “I’m Shirayuki. You must be Zen’s older brother, Izana.” 

“Though I would love to be recognized as a person in my own right,” Izana drawled, “you would be correct.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” 

Once her toes touched the ground, she unclasped the auto belay and walked over to shake Izana’s hand. 

His eyes flicked to the wall she’d just come off of and said, “I certainly hope a 5.6 isn’t the best you can do.” 

“Obviously not,” Zen snapped. Then, politely to Shirayuki, he asked, “Are you ready to show him what you’ve got?” 

She nodded, looking determined. 

“Hold on,” Obi said, even though he was clearly not part of this conversation. “I’m lost here. Who’s proving what now?” 

“Zen here is under the impression this young woman is a potential Olympic applicant.” 

“She is,” Zen said, clearly annoyed by how dismissive Izana was being. 

“So you’re not on a date.” 

Every single one of them looked confused with varying degrees of judgment thrown into the mix. 

“It’s eight a.m.,” Zen said. “Why would I be on a date?” 

“That’s what I wanted to know.” 

“No.” 

“I am getting that.” 

“Shall we move on to the task at hand?” Izana asked, more of a statement than a question. 

Shirayuki followed Zen over to the wall she’d been sitting in front of earlier: the advanced lead climbing wall. The wall slanted inward, forcing the climber to basically lean backwards at all times and rely more heavily on upper body strength than a flat wall. There were also overhangs peppered throughout the routes for the extra challenge of pulling oneself up and over a lip to continue on. 

“Did you know this was happening?” Obi asked as he and Izana trailed behind. 

“Obviously not.” 

Yeah, that made sense. Izana was a man who valued his time and being asked to watch a random person off the street - who Zen clearly had a thing for and was therefore probably biased in how totally awesome she was - was not his idea of a morning well spent. 

“I know we haven’t seen her climb yet,” Obi said, “but for what it’s worth, she got along with Ryuu surprisingly well.”

Izana hummed. 

Once Zen and Shirayuki had threaded the rope through their harnesses, Zen asked, “Ready?”

“Let’s do this,” she said, giving him a fist bump before heading over to the wall. 

Obi and Izana watched in silence as she deftly made her way up to the first clip-in, the over to the next. About half-way up the wall, she rolled her legs up over her head and hooked her toes over a hold above her, then let her arms dangle below. 

“Sorry,” she called down as she shook out her arms. “It’s been a little while since I’ve climbed and this is a little tough!” 

“A little,” Obi said under his breath. He laughed, incredulous. She was about to flash a 5.13a flawlessly. 

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s do this.” 

“Ready for you,” Zen called up to her to let her know he had the rope ready to catch her if she fell. 

Not that she needed it, though. She sent the rest of the route with relative ease, hoisting herself up the hardest part of the wall and topping out not long after. She tapped the top of the wall with one finger and grinned down at everyone still on the floor. 

“Ready to lower,” she said. 

“Lowering,” Zen said back. 

Obi turned to Izana as Shirayuki was lowered back to the ground. He asked, “What do you think?” even though he didn’t really need to. He’d seen what she could do, and he could see how clearly impressed Izana was. 

Still, Izana simply said, “I think we need to see if she can boulder.” 

And Obi thought Ryuu was about to get a climbing partner.

[txemrn]

Book: Wake the Dead

Pairing: m!MC (Talan Archer) x Eli Sipes x Shannon Fox (it's the end of the world; I can throuple if I want)

Word count: 6100 (+/-)

Music Inspo: "Failure" - Breaking Benjamin

Warning: language; zOmBiEs; conspiracy theories of current events; very bad science; ⛔ may contain spoilers

AN: Last weekend was @wtdapreciationweek, and I wanted to do something fanfiction wise because I LOOOOVE this game so much... but of course, you know your girl is going to be late. 🙈 So, I came up with this cluster of a fic out of pure, self-indulgence. Please remember: this is all in good, silly fun; please do not take any of this seriously.

AN 2: To my amazing writing partner-in-crime @kat-tia801 : thanks for helping a sister out! The things I put you through... lol These characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry. 🖤

~💀~

The sweltering August sun beat mercilessly upon the war-torn earth, but luckily the overgrown path of evergreen forestation provides plenty of reprieve from the heat.  The faithful scouts from Olympus had been on a mission since before sunrise, but it was clear their energy levels were depleting quickly.

“How much longer, Tal?” Angel moans, adjusting her knapsack on her shoulders.

“For real,” chimes in Troy. "I wasn't planning on spending my entire day off, looking for–" he lowers his voice to sound spooky, wiggling his fingers, "--body parts."

Talan chuckles to himself, patting his lifelong friend on the shoulder. "We all know you were planning on reorganizing your cassette tapes and compact discs–"

"--again?" Angel jovially interrupts with a giggle, making the three of them tickle with laughter.

Talan looks up ahead on the trail, spotting Eli hard at work, combing through the grove. And he can't help but smile at the image. "C'mon, you two," Talan calls out from over his shoulder, marching on with more spirit in his step. "Just a little bit longer, then we'll call it quits. We need to at least try to find these specimens for Shan; she never asks for any help with her research."

"Yeah," a pained expression grows across Angel's face, "she's usually chasing me out of the laboratory area."

"Well, you are quite the bull in a China shop," Troy playfully punches her arm.

"A what in a what?"

"Don't pay attention to him," Talan titters, walking ahead of them to urge them forward. "He forgets how to talk like a normal human being–"

"Hey," Troy straightens out his collar, "at one point, that was cool lingo–"

"I'm sure shopping for a bull in China was very cool,” Angel finger-guns at her good friend.

Troy groans, shaking his head,  He then speeds up his pace, catching up with a determined Talan. “So, Shannon needs a drone’s arm or leg,” Troy pauses, contemplating his words, “and then preferably a non-drone’s arm or leg?”

“Yep. You got it–”

“But the living become the walking dead when they die… How are we suppose to track down an appendage that hasn't turned into–?”

“I don't know,” Talan holds up his hand, silencing Troy before he can state the obvious. “She said she could use us, but–" he gnashes his teeth in disgust, "she needs to cut into the flesh."

"Cool," Angel songsongs under her breath while Troy turns up his nose.

"I know it sounds like an impossible mission, but after her nightmare of a discovery last week, she believes she needs to restart her entire approach in studying these drones,” he sighs, mumbling under his breath, “which I think is ridiculous.”

"Have you tried talking some sense into her?" Troy suggests.

"She's not exactly the most rational person these days," Talan guffaws. "Besides, I’m trying to be supportive."

“Whipped, Talan,” Troy chuckles. “The correct term is whipped–”

“Wait,” Angel catches up with the two men. “Discovery? Restarting her research? Sledge and I were gone for two nights! What the hell did I miss?” Troy and Talan glance at each other, giving a knowing nod.

“C’mon, firecracker,” Troy wraps a friendly arm around Angel. “Let’s catch you up.”

It's been almost twenty-two years since the apocalyptic chaos raged like a wildfire across the world, turning every man against his brother, every woman against her sister, and the unthinkable, the living against the dead. The old world order passed away; and individual people groups established their own governments, their own rules, their own way of life. 

But still, there was one name that struck reverence and fear of colonies far and wide: Marcus Blackstock.

Blackstock was a well-renowned leader, revered for his ability to pull people together in the midst of the crisis. As a former lieutenant of the US marines, he demonstrated his resourcefulness and excellent sound judgment. Many quickly saw him as the figurehead in the midst of this war on mankind.

But the old general put into action his own plan: survival of the fittest. He wanted to create a new era of humanity, a new race made up of survivors with the most potential, the elite. He created his own colony, the Tower, and only allowed the fittest and the smartest to take shelter there.

The massive, impenetrable compound provided food, protection, and an incredible arsenal of weaponry and training.  Education was made available for children along with vocational options to contribute back into the Tower.

But it came at a price, a cost that in and of itself is forbidden to be mentioned.

Knowledge.

Blackstock preached that in order for history not to repeat itself, it must be destroyed. History books, newspapers, even reels of media footage were destroyed at the hands of the people of the Tower. People are still forbidden to this day to discuss anything of the old world; the new world under Blackstock’s reign is all that mattered.

“What a bag of dicks,” Angel barks. “I’m glad I never had a chance to meet that asshole–”

“He’s the one that put a hit out for Talan’s life back at the Tower, all because he disagreed with an officer–”

“Holy shit–” Angel cups her mouth in shock. "I'm so glad you guys escaped when you did. But, wait," she furrows her brows, "how does this relate to Shannon?”

“Well," Troy clears his throat, "I was checking on Shannon last week, and I mentioned to her how hard it must be doing research when she only has the second half of history in her science and medical books.”

“Oh no…”

“Oh yes,” Troy combs his fingers through his hair before rubbing the back of his neck. “I meant it as a compliment for being so dedicated, but she didn't have a clue what I was talking about." He lets out a remorseful sigh.  "So, I told her about Blackstock’s orders. And that’s when she discovered all of her books were either altered by the Tower’s publishers or it was a brand new manual, printed by King Blackstock himself–”

“Which means he's completely fucked up her research,” Angel scoffs, shaking her head.

"Exactly," Talan nods. "She was rescued by the lab when she was four, and even though the lab was controlled by the Tower, everything had already been destroyed–"

"--and no one could talk to her about the past," Angel adds.

"Right," both men agree in unison. 

“Damnit," Angel exhales heavily. "She works so fucking hard and gets so down on herself when things don’t work…”

“And another thought,” Talan interrupts, fixing his thumbs under his utility vest as they continue to mosey down the path. "Blackstock was so adamant to them about finding the cure. If he really was looking for an antidote, why not give scientists everything they need? So much was discovered prior to this way of life… unless–"

"Is he hiding something?" Angel suggests.

"About the drones?" Troy snickers into a smirk. "But why?" 

All of a sudden, a grungy snarl echoes from the deep thick of the woods. Snapping jaws and staggering feet grow increasingly louder as a large herd of decaying drones make their way closer to the group.

"Shit!" Angel hisses under her breath, ducking underneath the weeds and leaves along with Talan. Looking up, she notices Troy chewing loudly on some unknown berries.  She grabs him unexpectedly, pulling him down with her before reaching for her flamethrower. 

“What the hell, Ang–?”

“Shhh!” She cups her hand over his mouth, pointing through branches. "Look. Drones."

Troy’s eyes widen in shock, “There must be over thirty of them–”

“--And they just keep growing in numbers,” Angel stares in wonder.

 "Well, what are we waiting for?" A mischievous grin grows across Troy’s face. "Let's remind these freaks that they're not welcomed here."

“Whoa, hold on there, partner,” Talan grips onto his good friend’s shoulder. “You two be ready with your weapons, but stay low,” he delegates. “I’m gonna go grab Eli. We really need to get out of here without luring the whole clan to our front door.”  

Staying low, Talan runs up ahead to catch up quietly with Eli. Hearing his footsteps, Eli turns and greets him with a crooked smile. "Hey, you–"

Talan puts a finger over his lips. "I'm afraid, we've got company back here."

"Shit," Eli pulls out his crossbow, concern growing across his face. "Is everyone okay?" He whispers.

"For now." With the flash of Talan's smile, the two men take off down the dirt road, catching up to the others. They each take cover behind tree trunks and ivy snags as they watch the cluster of rotting corpses gather in numbers, bumping carelessly into one another.

"More and more keep coming out of the woodwork," states Angel.

"And then they just stay," Troy adds.

"Weird," Eli sighs, gently tugging onto Talan's elbow. "It might be a good idea to get out of here while they're not fighting over our remnants."

"But what about a drone body part for Shan?" Angel innocently asks.

"That's just gonna have to wait. Look at them now," Troy swallows thickly, pointing to the field littered with the haggard dead. "The drones just keep coming. We can't possibly fight that many at once. Not with the four of us." 

"I think that's a good call," Talan nods as he surveys the hoard. "Quick. Let's get out of–"

Talan abruptly chokes on his words as he nearly collides with a zombie, putrid sludge spilling from it's mouth. But as Talan reaches for his machete, the drone simply redirects itself and stumbles towards the herd of the dead. 

Talan turns to Eli who's already shrugging his shoulders. All at once, the scouts take off running, back down the overgrown path to which they came. 

But suddenly, Angel wails in terror. As a drone surprises her on the road, it's mangled fingers tangling into her neon green waves.

"Let go of me, you gremlin chode!" 

Talan instantly reacts with his large knife, first cutting his friend free by slicing through the tissue and marrow of the creature. But, as he goes to stab the drone in the head, it passively treks away from them, not putting up an effort to fight.

Another loud gurgle grabs their attention: two drones lurch down the dirt path, and yet still, they don't lunge for the living.

With their weapons still drawn, the men form a protective circle around Angel. They curiously look at the monsters before giving each other questioning glances. 

Angel finally untangles her hair from the decomposing arm, ripping several rotten fingernails off completely. Standing up, she lets out a large snort. "Hey! I got an arm for Shan!"

Eli quickly glares at the young woman, bringing his finger to his mouth to hush her. And yet, the noise she made doesn't make even a single drone steer off course. "What the fuck..?" He whispers.

"This is fucking weird,” Troy remarks, turning his attention to his lifelong friend. “Talan, what do you think?"

"Yeah, I don't know, guys. But I don't like it. Let's get home–"

"Wait!" Angel grabs Talan's machete out of his hands, offering him a maniacal smile.  "How many arms should we collect?" 

"Seriously?"

"What? They aren't fighting back. We need appendages. It's a win-win." Before the guys could say otherwise, Angel sneaks up on several wayward, unsuspecting zombies. With several brisk swings, she cuts off with ease four more decaying arms, thick ichor pouring onto the road.

As she collects the body parts, Troy pats Angel on the back. "Remind me to never to piss you off." After a good laugh, they all four begin cautiously jogging towards Olympus.

------

Quickly removing a glass slide from her microscope, Shannon glances at the front door to her lab, a pang of worry in her heart. Where are they? Bracing her back, she tenses up the muscles in her body, giving them a tight stretch as she yawns. Resting her head in her hand, she surveys her research thus far, hoping that her friends were able to collect the necessary specimens so she can continue.

As the hum of silence hypnotizes her, Shannon's fatigue from a long day of studying overcomes her, and she begins to nod off into sleep– that is, until the door slams open, her friends busting through with victorious smiles.

"There's my girl," Talan bounds towards Shannon. Wrapping an arm around her, he gently places a finger under her chin, his lips capturing hers in a fervent kiss. "Miss me?" 

Shannon pushes her mouth into his, savoring his touch. "Always," she scrunches up her nose as Talan pushes her raven locks out of her face. "I hate being away from you for so long. I wish I could come too–"

Talan shakes his head adamantly, dropping his hand down to cradle Shannon's growing belly. "Not like this, you're not." Talan embraces her tightly, kissing her forehead.

"I hope I'm not missing anything too important over here," Eli playfully interjects from behind, Talan allowing him to slip his strong arms around Shannon's shoulders.  Eli brushes his supple lips against her ear eliciting a sweet, content moan from her mouth.

"I'm so glad you guys are back," she whispers tenderly, nuzzling her head into the sweet flutters of Eli's tongue against her neck. "I always get so worried–"

"Hey–" Talan interjects, tracing the edges of her glowing cheeks with the back of his hand. "You know you have nothing to worry about–" Shannon nods against his touch, kissing sweetly against his knuckles. "--especially with this guy by my side."  Talan cups Eli's scarred face, his fingers intimately traveling up his temple to tease his mohawk affectionately.

"Okay, you love birds," Angel breaks up the moment, "did you tell Shannon the good news?"

"Oh yeah!" Excitement spills across Talan's handsome features, nodding to his friends. "We have some surprises for you, babe!"

"We brought gifts!" Troy pats his overly-stuffed bag. 

Bracing her rounded tummy, Eli helps the mom-to-be back onto her lab stool. As a group, they presented the four zombie arms to Shannon, making her squeal for joy as they pulled out each one dramatically. They were also able to find a black light that Troy plans on fixing up for the lab, several sets of tools to keep on hand as extra in the lab, and then finally, old bound newspapers to stock for heating elements for future experiments.

"This is wonderful!" Shannon grins kindly to each of her friends, "thanks, guys!"

"And that's not all!" An impish smile grows across Troy's face as the others exchange curious glances at each other. He pulls out a weathered plastic bag, the contents  rustling against each other. He retrieves a clear package with two tubular yellow items inside. "Talan may have mentioned you've been having a bit of a sweet tooth in the middle of the night, so behold!" 

He tosses the item to Shannon. She instantly starts inspecting it in her hands. "Thank you so much, Troy, but–" she shakes the package, then sniffs it while raising an eyebrow, "--what is it?"

"Seriously?" Troy glances around the room, noticing the lost look in everyone's eyes. "They're Twinkies!" Talan and Angel pretend to know what he's talking about while Eli curtly shakes his head.

"It sounds, um, really cute," Shannon tries to stay positive, but clearly is clueless.

"Give me that," he playfully snatches the package out of her hands. “It's a sponge cake–"

"A sponge?" Angel questions.

"Yeah, you know. It looks and feels like a sponge, but it's a cake. And the best part?" Troy busts open the package, pinching off the end of the yellow snack. "It has a cream-filled center."

"Whoa," the group singsongs together in amazement.

"But, isn't cake made from stuff that can expire?" Shannon cautiously asks, sniffing the confection.

"Ah," Troy holds up a finger, "that's the next best part. As the story goes, Twinkies never expire. Shit, before the zombie apocalypse, people claimed that these things could actually survive the zombie apocalypse. And boom! Here we are."

"So, is it safe to try?" Talan looks to Troy, but before he can answer, they are distracted by a subtle chewing sound.

"It tastes immaculate to me," Shannon's cognac eyes sparkle, rolling back in satisfaction.

Troy snickers. “And as for dinner,”  He juggles out several more cans. “Spaghettios on me!”

The five friends head out to the dining area, meeting up with the other members of Olympus.  Together, they share with the other colonists about their adventurous days off before everyone returns back to work like normal in the morning. The pleasant conversations continue well into the evening as many members retreat to the cool night air, sitting outside around a large campfire.

“Babe.” Relaxed in a sleeping Talan’s arms, Eli waves down Shannon who’s just now joining the group. He pats the seat next to him, hungry to hold her.

She moseys up behind him, running her fingers through his hair before kissing his inviting lips.  

“Come here, beautiful,” he whispers, lacing his fingers with hers.

She giggles at his invitation, biting her bottom lip. “I want to, really I do. But I need to get the lab set up for tomorrow–”

He pulls her down, closer to his head, capturing her mouth in a more passionate kiss. “Can’t that wait until tomorrow?”

Shannon begins to pout, feeling torn on what to do.  “Eli, I really need to get those specimens set before they start to deteriorate.”  She sweetly kisses the tip of his nose.  “I promise I’ll hurry.”

Giving him one last kiss, Shannon scurries down a well-lit path to her laboratory, but as she enters the main research area, the room glows a brilliant hue of purple, causing other colors to pop in bright neon..

“Hello?”  Shannon calls out cautiously. 

“Shannon! Hey, it’s me!” Troy comes around the corner of a shelving unit, holding onto a violet light bulb. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t know how much time I’d have tomorrow to set up this black light, so I thought I’d fix it up tonight.”

“This is so cool,” Shannon touches the colorful light. “I’ve only read about these in books.”

“I figured you could use it for something,” Troy shrugs, offering a confident grin.

“It will definitely come in handy inoculating different microbes. Some actually glow under these lights.”  Shannon walks over to the drone arms, some of them still twitching with life.  “Say, Troy? Do you mind giving me a hand with these?”

Clearing off her research station and cleaning with sanitation chemicals, the two friends secure the arms with clamps before covering them with preservation tarp.  As he tidies up the center, Troy starts playing with the black light again, the decaying arms turning into strange hues of purple and green.

“Dude, look at these colors!” Troy chuckles in amazement

“Don’t you be messing up my specimens!” Shannon jokes as she moves her fresh new stack of fire-building newspaper under a counter. As she goes to close the cabinet door, something catches her attention.

2019.

“Um, Troy?”

“Okay, fine, sorry.” He quickly turns off the light, gently setting it down.

“No, no,” she shakes her head, lifting the ream of old newspapers onto her research desk.  “When did you say Blackstock destroyed all the history data?”

“Um,” he closes one eye, counting on his fingers, “it was the first Solstice after the outbreak. So, 2021?”

“Come here and look at this.” Shannon anxiously opens up the newspaper, flailing it out to read. “Look at the date.”

“December 12, 2019.” His eyes widen in suspense. “Holy shit–”

“Can you go get the guys?”

Within minutes, Troy had rounded up Talan, Troy and Angel, urgently leading them to the laboratory. Shannon showed them the dates on the newspapers they had found, and began reading the breaking news.  The first article was about a patients in the Hubei Providence of China, showing signs and symptoms of respiratory distress.  

Thumbing through the papers, Shannon stops on December 31, 2019, where the article discusses that the Chinese office of the World Health Organization was made aware of multiple cases of pneumonia with unknown cause.

Talan and Eli both grab a few papers, helping to speed up the research process.

“Listen:” Talan commands the room, “Chinese authorities identify and isolate a novel coronavirus as the causative agent of the outbreak—”

“Coronavirus?” Shannon looks over his shoulder, writing down the information.

“And look here,” Eli pointes to the headline on his paper, showing it to the group. “The CDC confirms the first US laboratory-confirmed case of COVID-19–”

“COVID-19?” Angel chimes in. “I thought they called it something else.”

Shannon looks back over her notes.  “It–it must be an abbreviation. Coronavirus; COVID… um, maybe Coronovirus disease?” She presses her fingers into her temple, her speech becoming more rapid, more nervous. “And–and this happened in 2019, so maybe, I don’t know, the year? I’m–I’m not sure.”

Talan quickly drops the newspapers, wrapping his arms around Shannon, pressing her head to his chest. “Shhh, it’s okay, Shan–”

“I–I just don’t understand,” she stutters. “Is this what this is? Is that what all of this is?”

“Shannon–”

“I’m–I’m pissed!” She yells, causing her friends to stop in their tracks. “Did any of you guys know that there was this outbreak prior to the invasion of the drones?”  She glances around the room, everyone shaking their head. “That Blackstock had us wasting our time, looking for a parasite when he knew–he knew all along it was a virus. It’s bullshit.”

“Alright, alright,” Talan squeezes her tightly to his body, gently kissing her forehead. “This is a lot to take in, I know.  But I think we need to be thinking more clearly before we dive into this.” Keeping an arm around Shannon’s shoulders, he leads the group out of the laboratory and into the sleeping quarters of Olympus.  Within minutes of her head hitting the pillow, Shannon passed out from exhaustion.

Bright and early the next morning, Shannon began her research on the drone appendages to answer the ultimate question: where did they come from?  She collected countless vials of dark viscous blood and tissue specimens. She performed several tests while cross-referencing the newspaper articles the scouts had discovered the previous day.

One by one, however, each test contradicted everything she had been brought up to believe, working for the Tower.  Overwhelmed by possible new truths about the new world, she called her partners Talan and Eli, along with her best friends Troy and Angel.

As they gathered at the laboratory, everyone could feel the uneasiness, pouring out of Shannon’s every pore as she mounts pictures and graphs to a make-shift cork board presentation. Chewing on her mouth, she begins ringing her hands before turning to face her comrades. 

“So, um,” she titters awkwardly. “This is still just a theory. And–and I know, I know, this is going to sound crazy,” the corner of her mouth begins to curl. “But, I think I have proof, so just–” she holds her hands up, encouraging everyone to give her a chance and listen. “--Just stick with me.”

She taps on the board at her first piece of paper with notes.  “So, as expected, these drones are very much infected with the DNA of something, a virus–” she raises an eyebrow, “a really strange virus–Oh!”  Her eyes widen, meeting Talan’s. “I hope the community doesn’t mind, but I turned on my high-power microscope to map it out, so the back up solar panels kinda need a day to recharge.” She innocently smiles.

“That’s fine, babe–” reassures Talan, snickering to himself at how nervous she is. “So tell us more. Why is the virus so strange?”

“Well,” she takes a deep breath, “it’s completely synthetic.”

Talan, Troy, Eli and Angel exchange looks, shrugging their shoulders. “Meaning…?” Angel wiggles her fingers, encouraging Shannon to keep explaining.

“Meaning it’s man-made. This would never spontaneously occur in nature. It was created in a lab at some point–”

“Why would someone create a fake virus?” Angel questions.

“There’s only a few viruses that have had their genetic make-up prosthetically reproduced so that scientists can study them, so that we can prepare for things like outbreaks and bioterrorism.”

“So, you’re saying this outbreak that happened before the ending of the old world, this coronavirus or whatever: it was made in a lab and got into the wrong hands?” Talan crosses his arms, trying to understand.

Shannon shrugs. “That’s possible, but I don’t have anything to test or prove that. The man-made virus I found in these drones doesn’t match the COVID-19 make-up, however–” she eagerly taps on the board, “--get this: the virus does perfectly match the antibodies that make up the mapped DNA.”

“Whoa… English please?” Angel slides to the edge of her seat listening with intrigue.

Shannon chuckles. “Imagine a key and a lock.  Only one pattern of the key can go into that lock for the whole mechanism to work, for the lock to open, right?” Everyone nods, following along with her analogy. “That’s how immunity works: it takes a piece of the viral DNA, makes a copy so that when the body is under attack again, we have a key that is ready.”

“But I thought you said this was synthetic–” Eli speaks up.

“Exactly,” Shannon points to him excitedly as she continues. “Sometimes with deadly diseases, we can’t risk people developing natural immunity by allowing the masses to contract the sickness–”

“--Because it would kill people in the process of developing immunity,” Troy answers.

“Precisely,” Shannon gleefully nods. “But if we can develop a copy of that key that can gently teach your body cells the special code to unlock the immunity for your body…”

“Whoa,” Angel blinks her eyes in disbelief. “How do you do that?” 

“Vaccines.”  As everyone’s jaw drops, Shannon rapidly unfolds a newspaper clip, discussing the sudden push for the development of the COVID-19 vaccine from synthetic genomes.  “Everyone was coaxed into getting these vaccines even though minimal testing had been done on them at the time.”

“And I guess people were actually getting the shot?” Talan asks.

“Yes,” Shannon groes gravely serious.  “If you can strike fear in people, you can get them to do whatever you want.  It was broadcasted worldwide at how deadly the virus was. Citizens were forced into quarantine, unable to go anywhere for months  The ticket to a normal life again? Taking the vaccine.”

“Holy shit–” Angel anxiously rubs her forehead.

“So, my theory is that whatever they injected into people is what led to the uprising of these drones,” Shannon announces proudly. “But I predict that the zombification doesn’t complete until the infected person is dead–”

“Wait a minute. What about the drone attacks?” Troy leans his chair back, patting Eli on the shoulder.  “Drone bites create more drones, I thought.”

“That’s what we’ve been taught. But, have we really ever seen that happen? Someone turn into a drone before our eyes?” Shannon crosses her arms. “No, because they’re usually dead first either by the actual attack, or–what’s rule number three?”

“If someone gets bit, they get put down. No hesitation,” Talan sorrowfully quotes from memory, thinking about his sister.

“This has been drilled into our heads since as long as I can remember, and that is what we’ve always practiced–”

“But what about Eli? What about the Raiders and the antidote–?” Talan suggests.

“I thought the same thing. Come here, and watch.” Shannon twirls on the ball of her foot, heading towards two set up microscopes: one with a tissue sample from the drone’s arms and the other one with the synthetic virus exposed.  She pulls out a vial of epinephrine, showing it to her friends.  “This is the supposed ‘antidote’ to this disease; it’s what we gave Eli.  Epinephrine is essentially adrenaline, a hormone that stimulates your body’s nervous system to ‘fight or flight’. Now, watch.” She squirts the fluid from the vial onto the two slides.

Nothing happens.

“But Eli became, like, super-human, strangling me–”

“--as a result of using epinephrine. Not because he was turning.”

“Holy fuck, you guys–” Troy’s mouth falls open in shock.  

Eli rubs the back of his neck, clearly trying to make sense of the fact that everything they have been taught about the zombie ‘parasite’ was a lie.

“But why?” Talan asks.

Shannon shrugs.  “Was this meant to serve as a weapon to another country? I don’t know. Apparently the US was severely divided during that year from the electing of new officials. Maybe it was some ploy to bring the country together.”

“But the population of drones is increasing,” Talan mentions, walking up towards Shannon, “does that mean somewhere, someone out there is purposely infecting people?”

Shannon sighs as she scribbles down a few notes. She finally pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration, “So much is still unknown–"

"But look at how far you've come in just one day, babe," Talan drapes an arm over Shannon's slumped shoulders before resting his hand on her belly. "Let's get you two some lunch. You'll feel better afterwards."

Nodding in agreement, the group begins to tidy up the laboratory, preparing to lock up and head to lunch when Tony interrupts Shannon.  “Hey, Shan, would you mind if I showed Angel the black light?”

“Be my guest,” she smiles sweetly.

Troy turns off the lights of the room, waving the purple bulb around the room, pointing out the various neon colors.  He finally directs everyone’s attention over to the drone arms to point out the weird conglomeration of colors in the decaying tissue.

“This is so cool,” Angel looks around with amazement. “But I guess there’s not exactly much use for these lights nowadays–”

“Whoa!” Shannon suddenly shouts.  “Flash the light over those body parts again.” She rushes to look closer at the decomposing flesh, quickly donning protective gloves and tissue forceps.

“Babe?” Talan draws closer to her, becoming more concerned. “What is it?”

She shakes her head as she uncovers the plastic draping. “Bring that light closer, would’ya?” On further inspection, Shannon notices a bright white piece of microscopic debris hanging just inside the deep tissue of an arm.  She carefully extracts the piece with her forceps before moving onto the next arm. “Light please?” She begins poking and prodding on the next arm, but before long she finds another hard, bright white piece.

“What are they?” Angel clears her throat.

“I–”  Shannon begins to mount the pieces on a slide for her microscope to get a closer look. “I don’t know.”  As she zooms in, a collection of numbers sticks out. “CORP MP US 22/6598; what on earth is that?”

Troy perks up. “Did you say, ‘CORP MP US’? That’s code for governmental property.” He takes a look at the particle under the magnifying instrument. “Something that small, and from the government? It’s gotta be something like–like a tracking device.”

“Tracking device?” Shannon wonders out loud. "But why?" She scoffs, "how?" She shakes her head, writing out a few a thoughts on a notepad.

"Hey, I thought we were doing lunch," Troy jests as he mindlessly waves the light over the various patches of his leather jacket, neon colors illuminating before his eyes.

Deep in thought, Shannon looks up from her journaling, and watches him play.

Until it hits her.

“Oh my God!” Shannon takes the light away from her friend "Troy, you're a genius!" 

"Thanks!” He chuckles, but suddenly becomes confused. “Wait, I– I am?" 

She snickers with a nod. “I've got an idea. I need all of you to take off your jackets and expose your arms."

"What?" A blush creeps up Troy’s neck, knowing he may have to take off his shirt.. 

"Don't be such a prude," Angel sasses, slipping her hand under the collar of his jacket and pulling it off his shoulders.

"Traditionally,” Shannon talks over Troy, “vaccines are given in the large deltoid muscle of the arm, exactly where we found these white pieces–"

Talan perks up, "--so maybe when they were giving that man-made shot, they were implanting trackers…" Talan theorizes out loud.

"Yeah," Shannon's face grows long, "because someone was experimenting on humans and needed to keep track." A cold chill courses down everyone's spine. The sound of Shannon's words spins the room hauntingly still. 

Shannon inspects her arms first, waving the bulb slowly over her skin with no avail of anything glowing bright white. Both Talan and Troy are the same way: nothing glows from the arms.

Sigh heavily, Eli rolls up his sleeve. "I think you’re wasting your time, Shan–"

"Oh my God!" The young scientist gasps. "Guys, come here. Now." As she presses deeply into his shoulder muscle, thinning out the tissue with her thumb, a tiny flicker of white beams with the flash of the black light.

"No fucking way…" The friends stand in awe of the discovery.

Shannon does the same thing to Angel, and sure enough, her arm glows as well.

"But–but that doesn't mean it's a tracking device… does it?" Angel nervously inquires.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Eli turns to Shan. “Wanna remove it?”

A look of pure joy gleams in Shannon’s eyes. She quickly gathers her supplies to remove the white fragment from Eli’s arm, hoping it matches the one she found in the drones’ arms.  As she begins to numb the area with a local anesthetic, Talan interrupts.

“Oh, shit, Shan! I forgot to tell you.” He begins to share with her about the unusual behavior of the zombies the previous day when scavenging for the appendages. “They–they just wouldn’t fight us. It was like they were in a trance–”

“--or being controlled?” Troy suggests as he watches Shannon intently.

“But–but who?” Shannon grabs her forceps, gently slipping out an identical white piece of debris from Eli’s upper arm.  “And why?”

------

North of the Woods…

Another ear-piercing emergency siren blares throughout the leadership suite; bright, red lights beckon for his attention as they refract off the cigar smoke particles that consume the space.  He slams back his finger of scotch before he angrily calls for his head guard.

“Sir?”  A gentleman in black armor stands en guard to his leader, his hand raised to his brow in respect.

“The fuck is going on out there?” The salt-and-pepper haired jumps from his desk, hissing at his commander. “We built the alarm for the trackers as a security measure, but they are supposed to be fool proof–remember?” He rolls up a stack of papers, slapping the soldier multiple times in the shoulder. “Fucking fool proof!  If this information gets out to the American people that they were the only ones in the world affected, the only ones quarantined, the only ones targeted by this virus…” He nervously runs his fingers through his thick hair, “Or worse, if they find out this was a massive plan to annihilate the US from history for our international clients–”

“Sir,” the guard interrupts, “calm down. Have you accessed the video surveillance?”

The older man stops in his tracks, an evil grin crawling across his face. “Of course,” he begins to snicker.  He hits a secret button under his desk, instantly changing his computer screen to the activated surveillance cameras connected with the tracking devices.

Instantly five faces appear, surrounding the concave lens. “Isn’t this that girl that used to work in the old sector 2B in the lab? I thought they all died.”  He hits a button to unmute the video feed.

“I wonder if the ones they vaccinated with this synthetic drug were forced to find shelter elsewhere because at least they could track them while the unvaccinated were granted entrance to the Tower,” Shannon’s voice rings out across the speakers.

“Fuck!” The leader takes out his anger, swiping the contents of his desk onto the floor. “How? I need to know who’s working with her and how she knows the truth.  In the meantime, get the commander of our international clients.  They may need to finish their job early with this new development.”

“Right away, sir.”

After a few minutes of pacing, the head guard returns to the leadership office.  “He’s on the phone.”

The older man grabs the phone. “Hello?”

“General Blackstock, I am surprised to be hearing from you,” the pleasant voice grows gruff, “especially so late at night.”

“My apologies, King Liam. But, we have a problem.”

~💀~

PERMA

@alexabeta @ao719 @charlotteg234 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @foreverethereal123 @issabees @jerzwriter @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @schnitzelbutterfingers @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

[writing-in-april]

Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde (2/?)

Part two: Caught

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: After reader’s first introduction to Spencer she can’t wait for the next meeting and tries to look for him.

Part One, Part Three

Series Masterlist

A/N: Hey guys!!! This is my final fic for my 1250 follower celebration!!! Plus this is part two to my new series 🥰 I’m like so excited for this guys I’ve got so much planned for this one!! Thanks again to @spencers-dria who came up with the way I started out this story 😘 and @andiebeaword who gave me the prompt that spiraled into a series!!! Let me know how y’all like this series so far 🥰 also I will be mass accepting the rest of the requests for my 30 fics in 30 days tomorrow so be warned for a bunch for posts lol and I’ll be making a Masterlist for this series as well- maybe with a cute moodboard?? Thanks for reading guys!!!

Warnings: 18+, Speculation on how dark Spencer can be, mentions of kidnapping, Dom Spencer, Public sex (of course), Fingering, Use of the nickname Doctor, Slight size kink, Muffling, Spencer gives Reader a nickname at the end (I won’t spoil it 😉)

Main Masterlist Word Count: 3.6k

Ever since the last meeting you had been itching to lay your eyes on Dr. Reid. Even though you could have waited until next month when there’s another book meeting happening, with a new theme, your impatience was not having it.

The library that housed the book club and apparently now any of your interactions with the mystery man had never been frequented as much by you- until now.

Everyday after work now you stopped by to try and find him. You did other stuff there for sure, making your way through a full fantasy series while you kept your eyes peeled for his fluffy hair. Sometimes you did walk through the shelves that were stacked high with every book you thought imaginable just to maybe get a peak at him, or maybe speak to him if you were lucky.

You felt like you were both dancing around each other, never touching or even getting close enough to speak. But, a little look of his curls, a spot of his mesmerizing eyes, or a glimpse of his cardigan assured you that he was there.

You were sure he had to have seen you just as you had seen him at some point. Maybe he only wanted to see you during your book club or maybe he was done with you after that one time in the empty room.

Seeing him without half of his face covered seemed to make the shroud of mystery surrounding him get pulled back further. That however didn’t change the fact that you barely knew the man that danced between the shelves. You had called him by his earned prefix more than his real name and even then it was only his last name with the earned prefix attached that had slipped between your lips.

It was not like you did not know his first name, you had heard his full name with his title attached when he had first introduced himself to you, albeit behind that mask of mystery. And, even with his physical mask removed even with one look it would be obvious to anyone that there was an invisible mask still covering most of him.

There was this strange pull towards him that you could not explain. You felt like Christine being entranced by the phantom, his twisted face or in this case his soul behind the mask not shocking me away. You still hoped I was not dealt with a man that was as demented as Christine’s phantom. You could take a damaged man, not a kidnapper along with whatever other things the phantom of the opera had done to Christine. With one look at his face he hooked you in, perhaps unintentionally. But, if it was intentional and his bad didn’t squash the good in the end you didn’t mind at all.

Your feelings teetered on a precarious edge, you’d willingly take the plunge off if he’d just give you a peak at what was underneath. It all hinged on whether or not he’d let you take a look. He’d given you a taste of his Dr. Jekyll plus a little of his Mr. Hyde, but it left you nowhere in determining who Spencer was underneath.

Spencer- that was the first time you had even thought of his first name by itself without a prefix attached. You wondered how good it would sound if you let it stop dancing on the edge of your lips and let it slip out.

The ghost of his name danced on your lips precariously at the edge just like you were, so close to being whispered out. Only the pages of old books would hear you, there was no harm in saying his name. It was only a name after all.

Even though it was just a name made up of two syllables it was stuck on your tongue like it was one of the hardest words to pronounce. Your lips did finally speak in the softest whisper when you finally managed to stomp out your hesitation, “Spencer-“

“You called?” A gasp left you, way too loud to be appropriate in the library, but then again you had already bucked many of this library’s rules. You whipped around to face the voice that you recognized instantly as you had been closing your eyes tight every night trying to remember his voice and picture what he had done to you.

Seeing him without the mask up close, not through quick glances when you caught his fugue from afar was somehow more intriguing to you than when he wore the mask two weeks ago. When you did not come up with a response for at least a minute, he cut through the somewhat awkward silence, “What book are you looking for?”

“I don’t know.” That was an honest answer from you, you had other motives for hiding between these shelves.

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline clearly spotting your skittish behavior. You thought you were a good liar too, you wondered how it was so easy for him to read you. It made you feel vulnerable considering you couldn’t get a read on anything about him, besides the basics. Maybe you were just a bad liar and he was a master at it. “So you were just browsing? In the nonfiction section- specifically in the ancient and medieval philosophy section?”

His questions flustered you even more. It was like he knew that you had spotted him once in this very spot speeding through a stack of books a mile high while sitting cross legged on the floor. You would admit you stood there in awe for a moment to admire the way his fingers slipped down the page to track what sentence that he was on at an inhuman pace. You had been too shy to approach him that day, even though it was a perfect opportunity to do so, mostly because you were intimidated by how fast he seemed to be reading. Though later you thought maybe he had just been skimming to find what interested him, you wish you were brave enough to ask. That was why you had been loitering in the last spot you had your last chance to speak with him. It was possible he had already spotted you from your staring. Your voice shook a little as denied, having no suitable white lie to say, “No…”

“Not interested in philosophy then, no Plato for you??” He knew you were here before, watching him, his tone made it obvious.You shook your head from side to side slowly with your breath held tightly in his chest. He looked away from you for a moment to glaze over the spines of the books ordered by the Dewey Decimal System, maybe looking for something that sparked his own interest. It was only a small moment that his gaze wasn’t fixated at you, but you still felt like whining at him to get his attention back onto you. Luckily, you did not have to make such a sound as his pupils fixated back onto yours before he spoke again, “I thought so, you seem more like a fiction lover.”

“You’d be correct.” You confirmed, still barely breathing.

Your breathing wavered when he moved a little closer, if you hadn’t been paying such close attention to every minute moment he made, you might have missed it. The warmth of him was closer than it had been since the last time he had touched you, the desire for him was urging you to pull him in to touch him. Last time he had initiated every touch. his hands were closest to you, with nimble fingers that could work you over the edge skillfully and you knew that from experience. His head cocked to the side with eyebrows in question pulling you away from your daydream about pulling him in with your touch. He cleared his throat, then questioned you, his voice dropping down a bit, “So, if you weren’t looking for a specific book and you weren’t just browsing for a new one- what are you doing here in this section?”

“N-nothing…” A stutter still escaped you despite your best efforts.

It seemed like he was circling you like a hawk over head, though you wanted to be caught up in his claws. A little yelp of surprise escaped you when he suddenly grabbed your wrist rather tightly and yanked you forward towards him. You stumbled slightly into his chest, but you were quickly stabilized by him pushing you back into the shelves.

You were getting whiplashed again from his transition from delicate to sharp when he carefully put both wrists into one hand, then pinning them above your head. Your jaw was dropped down in shock and you almost stammered out another reply when he hit the nail on the head as to what your intentions were, “Were you looking for me?” At first you gave no response, but he pulled one out of you by sharply commanding you, “Answer me!”

“Yes!”

His lips were on you in a familiar fashion, harsh, almost enough to where your lips might bruise a little. When he bit your lip rather hard, you thought that there was definitely a chance that the bruise would form or at least it would be swollen. You loved it though, letting him guide the kiss to make it as rough as he wanted. When he separated his lips from you, you went to open your mouth to protest, but was cut off by a harsh shush from him that would make the librarian proud.

Each of the shelves you were pressed into pinched painfully, not that you cared all that much. You were more focused on the man who was now unbuttoning the front of the jeans you wore. On the inside you were cursing yourself for not wearing a skirt so he could’ve had easier access, it’s not like he could have stripped you down out of them- even if you wanted him to.

You’d both have to settle with your pants being pulled down to the tops of your thighs, he did leave the panties pulled up though, for the moment at least.

His other hand still held your wrists firmly while he started to tease by rubbing slow circles to your clit through your panties. When you tried to buck your hips into his hand you were punished by putting one of his thighs between your own and pushing what felt like his full weight onto you. There was no way you could move underneath him, even if you tried squirming he had you pinned to the too firmly shelves like a piece of art hanging on the walls.

All you could do was try to beg for what you wanted, “Please, pull them down.”

“But, I like seeing you in them.” He looked down at you with his eyes that looked like black pools because of the mood lighting in the library. You whimpered again, but cut you off by saying. “If you want me to oblige you, maybe you should ask me nicely and use the name you know you’re supposed to use.”

You knew exactly what title he was referring to, it had been ingrained in your mind after the last time. Part of you wanted to use a similar comeback of last time and call him Mister instead, or maybe even dare speak his first name again. On the other hand, your legs were shaking from being just simply teased a little. You had been looking forward to having him touch you like this again, and if you did not comply there was a chance his punishment for you would be taking away all touch.

“Please- Doctor, please pull them down.” Your volume was undoubtedly much too loud for the normally dead silent library. You were confident that you would not be caught just like last time, this was a scarcely traveled area, plus the librarian was farthest away from here. There had been another motive for picking this area to try to spot the morally gray doctor.

Instead of pulling your panties down, he ripped them off of you. The tearing of the seam echoed off the shelves along with your gasp. Even if you had really liked the pair, it was too hot to really be angry for him ripping them apart. And- when he stuffed them in his pocket a sharp spike of arousal ripples through your core. You could even still see the wet spot you had created on them despite the rip before he had shoved them into his pocket.

When his hand returned to your core you mewled desperately. He returned his nimble fingers to rubbing circles into your clit, this time a little bit faster than before and with a bit more pressure. You had to bite down onto your lip when he started alternating the circles with pinching your clit, knowing that the sharp cries that wanted to escape would be too loud for the librarian to miss, despite being far away from her.

“Do you want my fingers inside you?” He asked gruffly- as if I’d refuse having his long fingers crooked inside me, dragging across my g spot.

You didn’t need him to prompt you to say “Yes, please Doctor!” You were becoming easy for him to bend to his will, just to get another taste of his touch on your body. Maybe next time, if there was one like you hoped, perhaps if you were not so desperate for him to bring you to your peak, you’d smart off to him again. After all, from what little that you had experienced as a punishment from him like last time, you knew you’d enjoy it.

The smirk on his face told you that he was pleased with your eager submission to him. He pushed your head to the side slightly with his own to suck a hickey at the underside of your ear then nibbling slightly up the shell of it, “Good girl.”

Your eyes rolled back farther than you thought possible when he spoke, plus the added sensation of him plunging his fingers into your dripping hole added to that as well. The thrusts of his fingers were slower than you expected, as if he did not care that time may be of the essence, that anybody could walk by soon. Curling them upwards on one swift motion helped him easily find that perfect spot inside you which made your body try to squirm underneath his grip again. As you squirmed you could feel his hard bulge pressing into you making your mouth water and you drip down your thighs even more. Despite wanting to grind into it more he reaffirmed his grip and started to plunge his fingers into you faster. Your eyes shut tight at the onslaught of pleasure.

“No- look at me while I’m doing this to you.” Wrenching your eyes open with effort you followed his command, locking his eyes with yours. His eyes entranced you, you could almost feel the dark hooks pulling you in impossibly closer. Those hooks were pushing you towards the edge of your orgasm as well.

“Can I cum pleassse-“ You gasped almost too late as you were having trouble staving off your release, you didn’t know if you could handle him holding it off at all, “Doctor?!”

“Come on, cum for me- only for me, you’ve been really good for me.” A man being possessive towards you would normally have your orgasm fall away quickly- but when he said it your orgasm snapped through you on command. Your hands fell limp at your sides as he released his steel grip on them to clasp his hand around your mouth to quiet the noise that you tried, and failed, to stifle.

He had you still almost fully pinned down as you rode the waves of your orgasm out. You gripped the shelves with your free hands tightly, trying to hold onto something. You’d touch him, but there was the unspoken rule to not touch him without permission hanging in the air.

He let you come up for air once you had finished by removing his hand from your mouth, along with the one from your pants. He also tried to move you off of his thigh so you could stand, but your shaky legs would not allow you to do so, still weak from the force of your orgasm.

He only pulled away from you when a small thud was heard that judging by the source of the sound, was somewhat close to where you both were. He helped you button your pants back up, it felt kind of weird to wear them without your panties. The reminder of him stuffing them into his pockets still outweighed the discomfort.

Your whole being was probably much more disheveled than he was, there was only a slight cock to the right with his tie, that he quickly fixed. He then leaned, capturing you in a kiss that was much softer than any others he had given you. It did not feel like a goodbye kiss, more like see you soon.

“Until next time, Shelley.” His words that were whispered like a ghost on your lips, it was the quietest thing he had said throughout today’s dalliance. He almost seemed afraid. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the nickname, knowing it came from the time that you first had encountered him. It made him seem even closer to you than you had thought, him giving you the nickname made you feel somewhat claimed by him. Hopefully this was not all in your head.

“Until next time- Spencer.” You hesitated a little before saying his given name. You already had a nickname for him, one that seemed less intimate than the one he gave to you. Calling him by his first name seemed like a way that you could express similar thoughts without spilling all your guts to him.

Once the butterflies had faded a little you realized that he had not let you reciprocate any pleasure. You wanted to chase him back down through the library, get down on your knees and take his cock into your mouth until you swallowed his cum. There must have been a reason though, why he did not let you reciprocate. You hoped he was just busy and that at the next meeting in two weeks time, he’d let you take him into your mouth.

You yearned to touch him rather than to have him touch you. The thought of running your hands through his hair slowly enough to appreciate every wave and curl sent butterflies a flight in your stomach. Would he ever let you get that close? Close enough to study every curve of him in earnest instead of being pinned against something in a way where you could only appreciate a part of him. However much you felt desire being stoked whenever he took control over you, pinned you like he did, the butterflies in your stomach at the thought of exploring him with your own hands was too much to ignore. You just wanted to explore every inch of him with no semblance of time, no rush to be somewhere else, just to examine every part good or bad.

You’d have to tiptoe close, dance around him like he did with you until he let you see truly what both sides of him were behind the mask.

You still hardly knew the man before you, the one that was retreating away from you, sadly. Today had felt like your first glimpse into something more, mostly his good side. Dr. Jekyll was the one that you had seen the most of, but you could deny your desire to see every part of him, that thought had not wavered. There was that dark part of him that remainder hidden under the mask, if he showed it to you would you know him? Or would it just deepen the mystery of which is his dominant side- Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde? And even though you were undoubtedly curious to see every facet of what made the morally gray doctor you could help but fear whether or not you’d like everything that you’d see.

Part One , Part Three| Series Masterlist

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Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

Dr. Jekyll or Mr.Hyde: @rainsong01

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

Dom!Spencer: @rainsong01

[pedrosbrat]

Sorrow You Are My Light {Pero Tovar x Max Phillips x F!Reader}

CHAPTER I : Insomnia

AU - Vampire Hunters

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Angst, Nightmares, Language, alcohol, yearning, violence (fight) , mention of murder, sword, blood …

Summary: You and Pero were united by fate in your youth due to a tragic event. You will seek revenge from the creature that caused your common suffering all your life without success... Until you cross paths with Max Philips, forcing you to form an alliance with an enemy to destroy a common foe...

Little Comment : Hi everyone, it’s my first series, I hope you will like it (if you see any mistakes let me know and I will correct it) - 1 chapter will be published every week, every Saturday⚔️ Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

1440- Transylvania

You have been travelling on horseback for a little more than two days now, with a weather changing from very hot to very rainy, and usually it doesn't bother you, at least not really, because Pero has the decency to take breaks, it has always been like that. But for the first time in decades of travelling together, he has refused to take any breaks, because he says you are close to the goal.

You can understand it, and you feel it too, but you would still like to be able to rest, not feeling your legs or even feeling your buttocks... You don't even know if you don't feel them anymore because of the total absence of sensation from sitting on your horse for this long, or if the pain you felt yesterday has taken over and has become a friend, and the only company you feel at this moment.

Because despite his presence, Pero is far too absorbed in the mission. This is nothing new, in fact, he has always been like this, only usually he has the good sense to admit that sleep is important for a good fight, as well as a somewhat adequate physical form...

"If we are attacked by a vampire now Pero I won't be able to fight". You say as you catch up to him slightly at a gallop. "Stop complaining," he says, slightly grumpier than his natural temperament, which is bound to be an effect of lack of sleep. "I'm not complaining, I'm just right! You know very well that the lack of rest will eventually kill us, if it is not the horses that die long before us! You say, slightly annoyed by his behaviour.

He stopped short, and turned to face you, grimacing, probably aching and exhausted, unconsciously proving your point: "If he runs away, he'll kill more people! You seem to forget what this thing is capable of!" "Forget?!" you say, widening your eyes, increasingly annoyed.

Vampires: demonic beings that have occupied the lands of your country since your childhood. At first, in your youth, their presence was only a myth, which some people described as mad swore they had seen, but as time went on, the world realised that it was all real. These decaying beings, who have no chance of finding the light again, their gaze completely absorbed in the darkness, surrounded by veins resembling the shade of smoke enveloping the sky and covering all traces of the sun. They are the shadows that will hide the light of all normal life since your youth... Since that night sixteen years ago...

You know that Pero can be stubborn, but he is not so deeply stubborn that he tries to pretend to anyone who doesn't know him, although he hides it quite well, he is a gentle man and a good man... Except when he really decides otherwise, as he has done for the last forty-eight hours. So you don't try to argue or have a simple debate with him on the subject, because you know very well what he's talking about and you don't want to talk about it... You've already had enough nightmares since you were a child, so you don't need that.

You gallop alone towards the big city, from where you are not so far now, determined to make a big turn, to let your horse rest, and to rest at the same time in a real bed, and not stones under a sheet for a pillow or an old tavern of the village where you were hunting.

It doesn't matter if he follows you or not, you're far too tired and suffering to care at the moment, and being a very good tracker, you know you'll be able to find him if only a few hours separate you from each other, and at least you'll be able to fight effectively if something happens.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

The city is not as jovial as it usually is. You don't know why, of course, but there's a sort of silent restlessness that mingles with an almost empty square, leaving a black shadow over all those little houses, like a feeling deep inside you that you can see floating over the city.

"Anything interesting in the sky Paloma?"

You turn, coming out of the thoughts that had completely absorbed you, to find that Pero is at your side, handing you a piece of cheese, which he must have bought at the entrance of the city, and that you grab without hesitation the rumbling belly for any substitute of food... His way of apologizing and telling you that you are right, even if he will never admit it out loud...

Pero will never admit it, but he doesn't like to see you turning your back on him. He likes your presence, even if he doesn't express it, he likes to see you smiling, annoying him, lecturing him. He likes the way you've been waddling around on your horse for the last few days, and he knows it's only because of the pain he's putting you through, and that he shouldn't like to see that, he feels a little bad about it at times.... But you are so beautiful... And that ass, God only knows how many times he's dreamed of it bouncing off him...

"Nothing special, just a bad feeling" you say, taking a bite of the end of your feeble dish, "...I don't really believe in feelings you know, but for once I have to give it to you..." he says, kicking the sides of his horse to start galloping "No we should let the king know we're back, maybe he'll explain what's going on.

You nod and follow him, speeding up in your turn, not missing the crosses on the front of each house, as well as some silver objects in front of the windows, which normally would have been looted by the small thieves of the city, but even they don't seem to want to touch them... You start to understand what is going on but don't go forward, hoping that the bad luck hasn't come to your place of living once again, where you and Tovar have decided to stay for more than two years now.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

The throne room which is usually decorated with berries on every table, and bright silk draperies falling from the chandeliers to the ceiling, adorning the sides of the windows are not present, leaving the room in a dullness and sadness that the king and queen usually do not like. But they don't seem to mind, in fact in this room where all the lords are gorging themselves and filling up, they think it is much more agitated than the atmosphere outside. An almost incomprehensible hubbub envelops the room, leaving the king before you, not uttering a word, eyes fixed on you, nodding towards a guard at the back of the room, leading to the inner corridors of the castle, a neutral look on his face, leaving his wife and lords to shout complaints and fears into every ear.

He stands up curtly as the others in the room don't take the decency to stop talking as they usually would, leaving the king to walk out the back door, with you on his heels.

"Where were you?!" He says before you can even close the door to the large hallway, "On the trail of one of them my king" Pero says, bowing his head slightly. "And?" Said the king as he placed his index finger and thumb on his nose, as if trying to relieve a headache. "We had a trail... But we got away from it because of me" you say as you look the king in the eye, not flinching, assuming that a disaster may be looming over the city because of you.

The king doesn't answer and starts pacing in front of you before continuing silently, in a calm and gentle manner that must have always been endowed with "It's nothing... I think you might have guessed it when you returned to the city, but one of them is attacking an area near here..." "And no one was AVAILABLE to stop it?... Dios mío..." says pero a little annoyed that everyone is waiting on you two. "Oh, there were many volunteers... But none came back."

You turn your gaze to Tovar understanding without him actually saying it, what the king is asking you. He nods and you do the same before turning to the king, "Where? Where did you send them?" you say, already beginning to think you're going to regret it, "The Singing Mountain... There was... If you had seen what happened there...".

He couldn't finish his sentence and squinted hard, as if to chase away painful memories buried behind his eyelids. "We've seen it all our lives," Pero said before bowing and walking out to cross the throne room. You do the same, "It will be dark soon, we can't leave now, it would be too dangerous. But at dawn we'll get started. You don't share any contact with him, out of royal respect, and simply turn on your heels to join Pero, already far away, probably thinking of a plan for tomorrow.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

Your little house is on the outskirts of the village, a little out of the way, not that you don't like the presence of other people, but you are simply used to living like this: just the two of you.

You had already tried to live in separate houses in the village when you arrived two years ago, but every night was cut short by panicked screams and the search for comforting warmth next to you, visions and nightmares that you hadn't had in years, memories that were buried in the depths of your mind, every moment and every night that you spent in Pero's arms.

And you know that it was the same for him, even if he never mentioned it. He didn't have to. The simple fact that he would leave his house at one end of town in the middle of the night to join you under the sheets without saying anything and just let you snuggle up to him as you have done since you were children. So, you drifted away from the villagers, refusing to attach yourself to anyone else, only needing each other, sleeping together to hunt and seek comfort from the demons that plague you both when night falls. And sometimes even sharing each other's presence you feel that you are missing something... It's weird, and you don't know what it is. You don't talk about it... But you both feel it as well...

After setting up silver dust, under foliage all around your home and bringing back some stew that an old lady gave you in the village, thanking you for protecting them, and drinking a large pint of beer that Pero had left out in the house, you both finish your well-deserved meal in silence, savouring every mouthful of stew with a deliciousness like you've never tasted before... Or maybe you're just so hungry that everything would seem like a delicacy right now.

The same goes for the bed, having obviously finished before Pero who always takes a second bite and calls you "paloma", which according to what he told you simply means that you don't eat much for someone who is always crying out for food, like a little bird. You quickly head for your room so that you can have a nice bath without being disturbed by his lack of patience who you know would be there asking you every thirty seconds if you were almost finished, wanting to take a bath as well. So you were able to enjoy it fully until the water cooled, letting your muscles relax from the tumultuous journey and the stress dissolve for a short moment you cherished.

"I heard people talking about this mountain when we first arrived..." says Pero from the bathroom, waking you from your near sleep, now lying on the bed "Mmmh..." you reply far too tired to utter a word. Eyes still closed, you sit up slightly, knowing that he won't stop there. "The villagers always said that the devil lived in his heart... I didn't really pay attention to it, since there was never a murder... At least until now.”

You open your eyes hearing his voice much closer than it was a few seconds ago, and the reason being that he is standing by the bed, with only a sheet around his hips, placing his weapons beside him as he always does before going to bed. And for your part you try to look away as you always do before going to bed. At least when you sleep in a bed with him. At first it was quite simple and automatic not to look at him when you were younger and when he is only "dressed" like that... But lately it has become quite difficult... It has become quite difficult to avoid the vision of his broad shoulders and that torso getting thinner and thinner towards his waist, that aqualine nose that you imagine between your legs, before placing kisses on it as on his perfect lips and this goddamn perfect little line on it... And that scar on his beautiful obsidian black puppy-dog eyes, even if you're almost sure he doesn't like it, that scar on his face...That scar gives him a crazy charm... And everytime it become impossible to avoid to look at the droplets falling from his deep chocolate curls, sliding down that nape of his neck that you wish you could mark with your lips, to end up around his pure silver cross, shining on his golden and bronze skin...

It's become so hard to ignore this man who's practically become a god under your hungry eyes, as hard as it is to ignore the coming arousal that you feel between your legs as you watch him walk around in his armor or the mere sight of the veins and muscles in his neck give you unholy thoughts...

You turn around and help yourself to your sheets, crossing your legs to try and forget what you'd like him to do to you in that room and bed right now, thinking about how you probably wouldn't have the energy for it, and you fall asleep quicker than you thought you would, already with your mind bent on what you might find on that mountain tomorrow...

Pero watches your body rise and fall slightly with every breath you take and exhale, as he has been doing every night for the past few years... Since he was old enough to understand that you were no longer just a friend to him, that he was no longer indifferent to your curves, that he would watch you come out of the bathroom out of the corner of his eye and bend over the bed to admire your buttocks that he always imagined grabbing tightly in his hands... But he never did and was content to watch you fall asleep with your back to him, now that he can no longer see you come out with a simple sheet around you, your hair wet and your skin steaming from the good bath he would have liked to share with you... He is only content to fall asleep following your breaths, wanting deep down, much more of his Paloma...

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

You have galloped and walked all day to get to this cursed place, making you arrive around mid-day, when the sun begins its descent towards the west.

The forest is not dancing as usual, and the birds, being the reason why this mountain is called the singing mountain by their chirping, have seemingly disappeared singing no more from this cursed place under a river now red with blood. A putrid, foul smell that you can't miss is present on the scene. No bodies. Lots of blood.

"I've never seen this..."

You don't respond to his remark, but you know exactly what he is talking about. A river turned red with blood, accompanied by the smell of death, yet showing no sign of a body near the water or even in the forest you've just passed through.

Vampires kill, and abandon the corpse, having no interest in keeping the body, or if they really want a use for it, they transform the person, but in this case if, the smell of decomposing corpse and the river of blood should not be present at the scene.

"I don't like this Pero...".

He doesn't answer and just grunts before pulling out his sword and pushing you back slightly. You do the same and pull out your sword, never having doubted his ability to sense the presence of another being, other than the two of you. "It's not dark enough for it to be one," you say, watching carefully around you. "The king would never send his men out in the middle of the night," he says, passing you some silver powder. "How..."

You don't finish your sentence and freeze. Your hands tighten on the hilt of your sword, and you look into the shadows of the forest at the glowing yellow eye sockets. A man you can't make out is watching you without moving. Pero notices this too and pushes you behind him, instinctively as he does every time, even though he knows you can defend yourself, he never misses an opportunity to throw himself between you and the danger... And you will do the same for him when the opportunity arises.

"Come here!" he shouted with a smile, taunting this bloodsucking bastard, who for his part did not move a muscle. He's watching both you, and you're getting more and more worried, not understanding why he's not attacking you, as they all do. This is not a usual behaviour from them... What is going on here...

Your question evaporates as he evaporates, not approaching you, or attacking you. You tug lightly on Pero's arm, asking him to return to the horse. He didn't insist and followed you, sword in hand, running and climbing on the horses as fast as he could.

"What was that?!" you shouted at him at a gallop not far from him, who stopped dead in his tracks a few paces away from you "Pero what..." "I don't know!" he says, a growing frustration in his eyes that you know only too well, a look he gets when he is about to do something impulsive. "Pero you're not going back!" "He didn't attack us..." "That doesn't mean he won't next time! What's wrong with you?!" You say completely dumbfounded by your best friend, willing to risk his life to prove a point.

FUCK PERO!

You follow him in spite of yourself, knowing that you couldn't forgive yourself for leaving him to die alone in those woods, whether it was his choice or not.

A million thoughts go through your head as Pero is hit by something. You jump off your horse and swing your sword at a man in your path, a man who did not flinch at the shock of a galloping horse. You throw a sword at him which he quickly avoids and disappears again, but you know this kind of technique well, you have fought them all your life. You grab a dagger in your other hand and stand back-to-back with pero who has just straightened up.

"I told you we should have left," you say, more than a little frustrated by events that could have been avoided. "This is not the time." He says as he begins to fight the creature in front of you, moving far too quickly for you to anticipate any movement.

He's faster. Smarter than anything you've encountered before, and despite Pero's ability to inflict some cuts with his pure silver sword, the vampire doesn't give in. But it doesn't kill us for all that... A sentence that goes through your head thinking that it could kill you both in a few seconds if it really wanted to... No, this thing is looking for something...

You don't take any more chances and grab your powder and throw it at the thing, which is screaming in pain, looking at you with reddened eyes, sharp fangs and black veins around its eyes like you've never seen before... "PERO THE HORSES!". He thinks for half a second about killing this thing here and now, but sees the powder starting to dissipate and prefers not to risk both of you getting killed here and now... Not to risk YOUR death here and now which would ultimately be his fault...

You gallop off without looking back, not understanding what you just saw.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

"PERO WHAT DID YOU DO THERE?!" you say as you slam the door of the house and drop your weapons on the floor "You could have gotten us both killed! You saw what that thing did!" "It didn't kill us... Why?" he says as he sits down on one of the chairs calmly, too calm for what just happened "Is that really the only thing that bothers you about what just happened Pero?!" you say as you bang on the table.

He straightens up curtly and approaches you with a dark look in his eyes, "Aren't you even asking yourself that question? Don't you want to know why he left us alive? Why didn't he kill us or just jump down our throats and kill us like they all do? ¡Miénteme! LIE TO ME?! TRY LYING TO ME!" He says, banging on the table in turn.

You don't respond, knowing he's right, but you can't help it, impulsive behaviour like that could have killed you both. "I shouldn't have gone back there I know that Paloma... But I don't understand..." he says more calmly trying to apologize in his own way. You take him in your arms, understanding that he acted in incomprehension and panic "I also wonder Pero but don't ever do that again... He was smarter... Faster... And seems to control himself in front of living people... We never had to deal with that" you say holding him tighter, also needing a little comfort, adrenaline gradually coming down.

"She's right!"

You flinch and Pero pulls his sword straight out pushing you behind him, hearing a voice coming from your kitchen. Your eyes widen as you realise that the vampire you fought a few hours ago is the man in the room...

"Your powder has no effect on me, cuties... Should you have tried the wooden stakes?" he says, leaning slowly against one of the walls in front of you. "The wooden stakes are too big, a risk. You have to get too close and we're not stupid enough for that," Pero says dryly.

Those features... A protruding jaw, puppy dog eyes that dominate a fierce rage and that aquiline nose... You turn to Pero and move from him to this man, noticing that your friend, has similar features with this creature in front of you even if his hair is longer than pero, but he doesn't seem to really care or even notice it, it's actually the least of his concerns "Why are we still alive? "He says, putting his weapon on the table behind him, understanding that this creature does not intend to kill you, that if it really wanted to, it would not have bothered to let you go and then follow you and interrupt you... Or would have simply killed you in this forest.

He took a step closer but changed his mind when he saw that Pero was keeping a hand on one of his weapons. "Because I'm not the one you're looking for" says the vampire. Pero looked at you wide-eyed and started to laugh, a dark laugh, far from being amused by the situation. "Do you hear that? Now they're coming to our house to haggle," he said, jostling you slightly, still not making you smile.

You know that side of Pero. That unstable side that loses control of itself and doesn't know how to deal with the information and emotions it receives, which are far too numerous to process quickly enough for events that are far too unfamiliar to its eyes. And you don't blame him because you yourself don't know how to deal with it all. "I'm not happy about talking to you..." you say, trying not to play on each other's nerves. "...But you haven't killed us yet, so I'll give you a minute to explain what you want from us."

He stares at you for a few seconds, examining you from head to toe, not missing the look of disgust and hatred on your face. "You're looking for my creator... And I need you to kill him" he said, staring into your eyes, a teasing smile on his face, very sure of himself, yet very serious about the words he just said "Vampires are normally very attached to their creator, I think you're setting us up" you said, crossing your arms "She can't understand that if I wanted you dead you'd have been dead long ago!

He disappeared for a few seconds and found himself next to you, making you jump up and grab tovar's sword behind you to point it at him. He stared at the blade and ran his finger over it, causing smoke to billow from his skin, like at the end of a fire. "I'm not one of the little vampires you usually fight, which makes me... superior to what you're used to..." Tovar rolled his eyes and stepped in front of you, again, instinctively offering his body as a barrier to protect you, letting the man finish, always having a thought of skewering him at any moment "... I'm not dependent on him... At least not completely. But I don't serve him like all those vermin you hunt every day, who don't know how to control themselves or even think for themselves."

He loosens his last words with a more than visible disgust, arranging his clothes and slowly walking around the table without taking his eyes off you. "I don't depend on him. I'm not attached to him in any way... At least not emotionally... Physically it's something else: I can't kill him, not with my own hands." he says, staring deeply into the wood of the table, as if he could see his own reflection there.

"And you need us for that?!" Pero laughed a dark laugh like you've never heard, now less and less amused by the situation, knowing that he could launch himself at the thing in front of you at any moment. You grab him by the arm before he does something stupid and pull him away from the vampire "We should do it Pero." He widened his eyes and reached up to your face, grabbing your cheeks, as if to check that you hadn't been bewitched. You clapped his hands and told him you were fine before continuing, "If he leads us to his master..." "HE'S NOT MY MASTER!" he shouts from across the room letting you know that he can hear anything you say.

You look at Pero and let him know you'll explain the rest later by miming dust between your fingers, as you've done since you were little, before continuing "When he leads us to his MASTER, we can at least find out where he is and kill him! That's what we've wanted for weeks, Pero."

He's not thrilled. He realizes the danger you're going to face and knows that you've already faced a lot of such danger in your life... But he's not excited. He doesn't know if he can trust the information this thing has just given him, and if he should trust it at all. He doesn't want to have to trust it, and he can see in your eyes that you don't want to either... But he also understands that you have no choice after the king's request. So he lets his gaze shift from yours to the vampire's. "Okay. We leave tomorrow morning," he says, stepping around you and approaching the vampire, a more stern look on his face than he usually wears "... But if you were foolish enough to betray us, know this..." "... That you'll kill me?" he cuts Tovar off with a laugh and moves closer to him "And I'll let you do beautiful."

You chuckle and cross your arms and squint your eyes, amused "We already don't trust you..." "I know that sweetheart" "...BUT that's no reason to lie to us" you say, raising your voice, slightly annoyed by his condescending air.

He tries to get around Tovar, who won't let him pass, and shakes his head to let him know he's definitely not going to approach you. "Believe me..." he said as he put his gaze into yours, a serious, not amused gaze "... If I tell you I'd let you do it it's simply that I'd rather it be you than him."

He nodded to you, then to Tovar, and walked towards the front door.

"Oh, and I'd rather be Max Phillips than 'that thing'," he said as he closed the door behind him, leaving you and Tovar in a state of anxiety and nervousness the likes of which you hadn't had in a long time, leaving you both that night alive to the slightest background noise, the slightest shadow passing through the thin draperies of your windows...

•

Chapter 2

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Chapter 16: After Shards

There is much stuff i want to say about this update, but not enough space. So I decided to make an author Notes close to the end.

For now I wanna thank everyone who was patient, understanding and welcoming me. Many of you probably forgot this existed, some stopped around to ask how I was doing, and i'm thankful for it.

You guys have no idea how your reviews and knowing i had to complete this had saved my life. And I say this more than I really would like to admit. Your reviews, comments and messages were the line to bring me back to end stuff many times. For that, thank you.

Thank you every single one of you who stop by, leaving a comment, review or not. You who take few minutes to read what I'm writing, those of you who are silently lurking and hoping for an update, this is for you. Thank you for existing, thank you for saving my life in more ways than i can ever put in words.

Thank you.

Now let's get back on where we left, shall we?

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

You can read Ever After at Ao3 | FF.net | DeviantArt and on Tumblr, feel free to go read where it pleases you the most

Chapter 16: After Remembrance

"So let me see if I got it…" Janna said crossing her legs on Marco's bed, he tried not to get annoyed on her dirty sneakers on his sheets given he was asking a favor to her "You want me to perform some kind of witchery-"

"Enchantment." Marco corrected.

"Whatever, you want me to try to make magic in a world that has become void of it to recover your girl?"

Marco shifted on his computer chair replying with an awkward "Yes?"

His childhood friend frowned a bit in deep thought, "Don't get me wrong Marco, but how in the hell am I supposed to do that?!" resting a bit back on his bed she continued "you said yourself that when she left it also erased not only her existence but every trace of magic here, including my own magic as you say. How would I be able to use magic if there's none around or in me?"

"You see, here is the catch. I don't think you're completely void of it."

Janna exchanged looks with his dog before both of them looked back at him as if they were reconsidering the option of calling the hospital to take him in.

"OK, let me explain." He took a breath, "When Star had come to this dimension, we had no idea that magic truly existed. In fact, there is- or at least had by then, a bunch of magic creatures living among us and we had no idea because we were used to our routines and livelihood. But Star had to adapt and she had to question and understand everything and while she had to discover and learn, she ended up showing and doing the same for us."

Janna rested her chin on her hand in a tedious position "Your point being?"

"My point is that there was magic here before Star came along. Magic that was from here, from Earth. Like, very low and not much, but once was enough to connect our worlds and dimensions, then we can do it again."

"That… kinda makes sense." She agreed with a nod "But if she blocked the other side it would still be impossible."

"She might have blocked the way directly to Mewni and other dimensions I knew the way over. But it's impossible for her to have blocked all dimensions back and forth."

"So what? Your plan is to go aimlessly into a random dimension and find a way over into another until you jump onto Minnie?"

"Mewni, and yes. I will get the right way eventually. I know I will." Marco said determinedly, "I had to hunt down the entity that was responsible for creating the material for transportation through the dimensions and I did it. If I was able to do that by then, nothing will stop me from reaching out for Star. And I know for a fact, there's a place that connects all dimensions."

A place that once almost got destroyed by desperation and naiveness, by that's another story and a detail he didn't need to disclose right now.

"Except the fact I can't use magic." Janna reminded him.

"Not really, that's what I am trying to say. Star might have cut or blocked the magic traces that were unnatural from here, but she can't get rid of what is natural."

"Uh…" Janna squinted her eyes, having trouble understanding "I kinda get your point, but not what you aim at…"

"Look, think about this like… the seasons!"

Janna gave a flat look as if that seemed more confusing but gestured to him to go on.

"You see, in Spring it's the prosperous time, when flowers grow, fruits are there and things blooms, then comes summer and while the temperature is high, we still can get the supriments spring gave us, then comes autumn and that's when the hard time comes. Leaves fall, fruits are not that much, some plants die, all while we prepare to the winter, when it's cold and we need to survive without much food-"

Janna facepalmed herself "You know that's totally not how it works, right?!"

"Just listen!" He sighed "after the time at lowest, what comes next?"

"Spring?"

"Exactly!" Marco replied her bored tone with excitement, "It comes the time when it flourishes again! You understand?! It's a cycle!"

Janna frowned, understanding his logic but still questioning it "You think Star speeds up the cycle?"

"She did something. Knowing or not." He shrugged, turning to her once more "Nature finds a way. It will make magic flow again, if it follows the seasons or not I have no idea, but I know it does follow a cycle. He have magic in our history, we got historical events that none can explain, and that follows some impact, and it goes around the world not just a place particular, and we had quiet times and then the new things again and-"

"Breathe, boy" Janna said standing up and sighing a bit as she forced Marco to sit down and take a moment, "Did you take your medicine?"

"We don't have time to-"

"We made a deal." She crossed her arms standing up in front of him as she looked at him sternly from his bed. "You keep yourself sane and under the medical conditions, as long as you're stable and healthy I'm willing to help you." The dark-haired girl looked around and asked again, "So, did you take your meds?"

Marco sighed and thought for a moment, "I did take them this morning." He looked at his phone for a moment and took a breath of redemption, "It is a bit past the time for me to take some I guess…"

"Well, then." His childhood friend gestured to the door, so he could go ahead and get the medicine wherever they were. Marco did as she suggested, knowing she was asking for the best of him and she was indeed looking out for his health. The last thing he needed now he was getting his memories back and was determined to find Star, was to have a breakdown and lose control (his last one was still healing in his eyebrow), he ain't got time for that.

He got his meds and went to the kitchen taking a cup of water as Janna promptly got herself to sit on the couch with Barko Jr. After taking his meds and sitting on the couch he was about to continue when Janna gestured him to wait.

"Take a breath. You were getting anxious, so take a few minutes. I'll wait."

"We don't have time for this, Janna."

"Then you're gonna have to deal with this alone." She looked at him, her face completely serious, "We made a deal, and I'll make sure you stand your word even against your own wishes."

Marco huffed, dropping himself on the couch "What is this, your crush on me is back?!"

"Hm, kinda. Considering you're the best candidate? Maybe." At his unbelievable stare she smirked "What? You can see me dating Alfonso? Ferguson? Jason?! ugh, no. The girls aren't much better and the hottest take went halfworld away" Janna made a dramatic gesture "So I might as well take care of my last option in case the worst happens."

"Wow, thanks" Marco replied to her in a sarcastic tone.

"You're welcome. Don't worry, once our kid gets my talent and hits big, that will make me meet my true guy. I'll dump you right away."

Marco frowned "I really have no idea if you're serious or not."

"Me neither" Janna replied.

He looked at her in complete confusion and decided to let it go since it wasn't going anywhere. Taking some breaths instead as he watched the clock he was able to feel himself calming down slowly and organizing his own thoughts.

"You had always liked spooked stuff, remember?"

"So what?" Janna said, turning to lay with her feet up, "Does that have to do with anything?"

"Remember the time church used to hunt witches and other beings, but mostly witches?"

"Yeah, many women got killed, they never apologized and all that jazz… Why are you giving me a history lesson?"

"You are a descendant of the Witches…" He frowned "I don't remember quite much clearly yet, but… I remember you found out one ancestor of yours was hunted down, claimed to be a witch and got to escape, you found there actually two types of such thing and used Star magic to… Do something… I can't remember well, but I know you used her magic to make your own flow again from the sleepy state it was in."

Janna sat straight and looked at him in shock "Are you telling me, I'm magic?"

Catching her tone of both disbelief and sassiness, Marco joked back at her "You're a Wizard, Janna."

"I'm a what?"Janna whispered before laughing with him, "Seriously, you're telling me I'm a witch?"

"Pretty much. You used to say the others called you something else because they didn't consider you one of them, but you got it."

Janna stood up and paced slowly in the living room, murmuring to herself as she was making her own conclusions from the information he gave.

"OK, if what you say is true, then there might be a way to awaken what was inside of me. I mean, she didn't destroy the magic, she just erased what existed from her existence, right?"

"I guess? I don't know that much actually. It's just a theory"

"That makes sense," Janna prompted "if she truly had erased every magic or destroyed then that would erase even the ones who weren't involved with her… Like your dog and, well, me."

"You?"

"It's just as you say, if I already had a bit in me, even if too little to make a difference, doesn't change the fact I got it and could try to do again what I did last, if she had went far enough it would have erased the existence of those who have some magic connection in them, me." She pointed out.

"So you think you can do it?"

Janna smirked, grabbing her purse and fishing for her phone as she began to type "Only one way to find out."

.

.

.

It was weird enough how her mother had been hovering over her lately, but having Tom, Ponyhead and Kelly aside every other person around to do the same was becoming maddening.

Star knew she had been sick, whatever her cough was, made everyone worried since they didn't find a solution. It was recurring more and more, if she coughed in front of them there was a desperation to show in their eyes so quickly she had to find out what they were hiding.

The little petal in her hand told her it was a lot more than they let her know.

The doctors have told her if she ever coughs something, she has to go to them immediately, and so her friends often offered to give her a doctor if there was any signal of her cough…

If she wanted to find out what was going on, she couldn't trust either side about the petals in her cough.

Besides they should be busy and worried about something else, she was getting married soon for the sake of her kingdom, they should be trying to find a way out of the war menace.

Just like she should be if she wasn't busy organizing a wedding ceremony she would rather not have anyways.

"Why do we have to make it big?!" She moaned tiredly to her mother.

"You're a princess, simple as that. The people need to know and have security for their new king, the wedding it's not just about tying laces, but also about showing the people you have a ground and know what you're doing, in the fateful decision you're making by marrying this man." Moon replied and put her papers down.

"Can we like, make an agreement, sign stuff and bep bop do? No one is interested in anything else aside from keeping Mewni safe at this point."

Moon turned to her and took a breath, "Is that why you agreed to the marriage?"

"Well, yeah…" the princess replied, turning away from her mother. "It's not like I had many choices anyway."

"I'm really sorry for all of this Star…" her mother replied with a sad voice, "Of all people, I really wish you had the chance to make the choice like I did in my time."

"You're not helping much…" Star observed looking at another stupid list of things to get for a wedding. Why did they need a golden cornucopia?!

"I know… That's why I invited someone that knows about this to talk it out with you."

Turning to her mother, her eyes turned curious "Who did you invite?"

Moon smiled at her, "It's a surprise."

She rolled her eyes and continued to look in her to-do list about what there was to still afford for the ceremony. She couldn't wait until the papers had been over so she could get to…

To what?

Star shook her head and tried to focus again. There was no one for her to meet after that, she had been so sleepless and stressed about things happening that she had been catching herself into errands that didn't exist or lost in corridors trying to find a room that wasn't there.

Maybe she should see a doctor after all.

.

.

.

.

.

Marco stood blinking at a board that Janna made with pins, pictures, lists and scribes around and even a red string that connected to a question mark.

"Uh… what am I looking at?"

Janna sighed, "You're looking at the fact that you were right." Crossing her arms she looked away "Damn I was hoping you weren't so on point."

"What does the criminal board have to do with this?"

"This is an investigation board, thank you very much." Janna said and pointed at her notes, "I went around my stuff to figure out the blanks points or odd stuff that I couldn't remember how happened or that the explanation was just plain weird."

Marco frowned at a picture of her and pointed, "What does a picture of you in a pink dress have to do with this?"

Snatching the picture from his hand, Janna followed her notes as if there was never the said picture there, "So there are a lot of those blanks around like, why the heck I have a recipe for cupcakes? I don't even cook, and if I did, I wouldn't be interested in cupcakes!"

Marco looked around the said notes noticing the odd that Janna was mentioning. She was right about most of them, the pictures of scenarios and selfies were not her thing, just like notes on clothing, books, and… that Korean version of Twilight?

"What matters is that you're right. Whatever I had in me or that composed those pictures enough to make me interested, was changed."

He nodded, "and how are you finding proof I was right to help us?"

"It helps because I began to look into my stuff to see if I could find anything else and, BOOM!" Janna shoved her phone in his face.

"A… contact list?" He asked, confused.

"Yep. I went through my contact list, I don't know the majority of these names and some weren't even real numbers like this… Thomas the Train?! Why do I have the number of a toy train to begin with?"

Marco tried to bring her focus back again, "Well, and did you find anything that helped us?"

Janna began to tap her phone again, "Actually, I did!"

Turning the phone to him again Marco was to stare at the eyes on the screen looking right back to him. It was a woman a bit older than them, she was red haired and skin a bit paler than his, her brown eyes blinked at him then she smiled and waved at him from the screen.

"Tami, meet Marco. Marco, this is Tamir LesTrange" Janna said, motioning between them.

"Hello!" Tami said, smiling from the other side.

"Hi…" he replied and looked at Janna, "how exactly is she supposed to help?"

Janna put her phone on his table where the stranger could see them both, "Tami remembers what I can't, or at least most of it. To begin with how we meet and what we are."

"Hey! I thought you said you believed in me saying you were a witch?"

There was a giggle and Marco realized it came from the screen, "There's a difference between believing and fact checking," Tami explained, "she was trying to recover what was lost in the spell of your friend."

"Wait, you remember too?!"

"Kinda" the red haired replied, "your theory of Earth's own magic isn't completely wrong, but also has some fantasies into it. I can remember what is related to me, Janna and the betweens, but if you ask me specifically about that friend of yours, well, I'm afraid I'm not much help." She shrugged embarrassed.

"So, how can you help us then?"

This time Janna replied to him, "Dude, she's a Witch."

Marco blinked twice at Janna and then at the phone before letting a gasped "Whaaat" escape his lips.

"A witch, Marco." The other laughed, "Oh boy, Potter references never get old!" The red haired girl shook her head and continued "I'm one of the natural magic users from Earth, see?"

On a movement with her hands, there was a wave of energy that made some stuff on her desk float before getting down again by another gesture to make it disappear.

He looked at the lady's hands in shock. It was one thing to know magic existed and have memory of it, but to see it was something completely different. To see the proof in a live video of another magic user was… almost unbelievable.

Wow, he gets why the others had trouble believing him.

"OK, Tami, can you explain what you told me before to him?" Janna asked.

"Why don't you say it?" She questioned.

"I forgot already."

With a sigh, the woman on the other side began to speak to Marco. "As I told Janna, your theory is in the right way, but not quite. Our world is about cycles, from the survival and animal one, to life and magic one. So yeah, there are parts of history that magic is stronger and others that are not, but aren't related to seasons, but with world history itself and around."

"World history?"

"Yep!" Tami nodded, "It's one of the biggest and sadly most natural occurrences in humanity, history repeats itself. Kind of like a curse even. People study history to not make the same mistakes, but while they do, the other part is making up and learning that stuff and find themselves agreeing with the past and making their own conclusions to do over again and as a result it happens again."

"That… is awful, is there nothing to do?"

"It's human nature. To find themselves in a group and try to engage into their battles to survive and the goals to fight against the opposition. The only way to stop the cycle would be to put everyone in a stance of ultimate survival: work together or die."

"Like stone age." Janna replied.

Marco shook his head to focus again, they could talk about history lessons later "What does this have to do with the magic?"

"Oh yeah!" The woman said changing her sitting pose "Well, the reason is because once there was a limited or over-limits magic on Earth is pretty simple, the Inquisition and Witch hunting events."

"So the Inquisition was right?"

"Nope." Both women replied and Janna continued, "they did kill a lot of innocents while hunting. Most people dead weren't related to magic even, or didn't even know."

Marco tried to follow their line of thought "Uhh… That means?"

"That means that, whatever your girlfriend did, she can't change history. She at most repressed what was already around. So we can recover the state to what it was and make magic flow around Earth, however I don't know about the portals stuff, that was never knowledge of our world magic."

"We still have to try." He replied determined, ready to get up. "It's the best chance We- I have to."

"Easy there, Romeo." Said Janna pushing him back down to his bed, "So far we gave you the good news."

He sighed, of course it wouldn't be that easy. "Ok, tell me the bad news."

"Well, for beginners…" Janna started, "Thomas the Train it's not the only contact missing. There's a bunch of them, for both me and Tami."

Tami looked at him with a sad smile, "That's true. And while I'm good friends and a mentor to Janna, I'm still a minor witch. In fact, Janna was stronger than I was. I lost contact with the Witches and other creatures more or less around the data your friend had cut the magic flow."

"Did something happen to them?" Marco asked in worry.

"I don't think so." The witch replied "I think they sensed something to come and took the ways to be safe, even if we lost contact with others. They probably left the others safe from consequences out of it, like Wiccas and minor witches, and in Janna's case, an illegitimate Witch."

"Illegitimate witch?" Marco asked his friend.

"Long history to another history and time. Now," Janna said, focusing back on the matter, "the point is, all the people who have better knowledge on Earth magic or how we could make the portal thing work again are out of reach and the others who are left aren't powerful enough to connect to other worlds."

Marco crossed his arms and thought for a while, looking between a magicless-witch Janna and the witch on the phone before an idea struck him again. "What if we reunited you?"

"What?" Both of them asked.

"Alone you can't do much, but… United, maybe we could bring enough power to make a connection, even to another world…" Marco took his magical scissors out of his pocket and showed them "From there I can get to other places until I reach the right one to get to Mewni."

"YOU HAVE AN INTERDIMENSIONAL SCISSOR?!" Tami screamed from the other side of the phone "Damn, you were someone important! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get one of these? A human even?!"

"I have vague memories of it." Marco shrugged, smiling sincerely to her "So, we can get contact with others you girls find and reunite to try to make these work, how about it?" Tami smiled sadly at him again and Marco could already sense the bad news again, but this time it was Janna who let out a sigh as she crossed her arms.

"You think I didn't want to meet her or bring her here for a reason? Would have been a lot easier and better" She pouted.

He looked at Tami questioning in silence what Janna meant, but observing the scenery behind her, more specific about what he thought until then it was a poster until the moment he saw a bird flying there, it dewelled him the reason of why Janna was upset and the bad news.

Marco let out a groan as he hid his face in his hands, to which Tami confirmed in voice what he just concluded, "I'm in Japan."

"And as far as we had been, well, mostly her since they refuse to talk to an illegitimate witch with no powers, most wiccans and witches left are in the same situation. We are scattered around the world" Janna replied.

He let his back fall into the bed and groaned louder. It could not be easy, could it?!

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When she was told she had visitors, Star had expected to be one of her friends checking on her again for the fifth time that week, or maybe even a surprise visit from a messenger from her fianceé kingdom with more stuff arranged or to be arranged for the wedding.

She didn't not expected to meet Eclipsa sitting in the garden drinking tea as she waited for her.

"Oh dear!" Eclipsa smiled "There you are! It's so good to see you! Come sit!"

Confused, Star obliged to what the other queen requested, "Hi Eclipsa… I'm sorry I wasn't expecting you."

"Really?" She replied surprised, "Your mother invited me, I thought you do know."

The princess blinked confused, "You were the one she told me about? I didn't know. She just said it was someone I could talk about and it was a surprise."

"Well, she told me about what you had been dealing with and… I can understand. I think from all the people I'm the closest that can understand you, that's probably why she told me to come talk to you."

So that was it. Her mother was still worried, despite her doctor saying she was ok and that she agreed with the meanings behind the wedding. Yes, she was still trying to find a way out of the war menace, but it was more a precaution and safety than anything else. Besides, so far the plan is going very well and… If it came to worse than she had to make sure someone was left to look after what she left.

"I'm fine, really." Star sighed.

"It's natural for a mother to be worried, more so in this case in which the daughter was forced into a decision she wasn't ready or didn't want to take." Eclipsa replied "It's a different situation, but we both had to go with the decision for outside factors."

It was only then that Star was reminded of the fact that Eclipsa was married before Globgor, despite already being with him and having her relationship established. Solaria didn't accept their relationship and arranged her wedding with a prince from a fellow kingdom in hopes that the marriage and kingdom obligation would make Eclipsa forget her forbidden passion for a monster of all people. Star didn't know much details aside from the fact that Globgor broke his promise to never feed himself from human flesh again by consuming Chastican, getting away to have Meteora and get captured shortly after and separated for all those years.

So far, Eclipsa was really the one who could understand the situation the most, even if the reasons for the arranged marriage were different, neither had been out of love, but because the obligations of the crown required so, for the safety of the people. For Eclipsa, because the former queen's prejudice against monsters was so powerful, she took a blind eye to who she put her daughter with. For her, because the war menace was a risk to the whole of Mewni and other possible dimensions and kingdoms Mewni had been in peace, not to count the possible multiverses.

She looked up to Eclipsa again, the queen being patient in Star taking her time to speak if she wished. Eclipsa has always been a kind heart that didn't deserve what happened to her. Star was really glad she was able to help get Eclipsa's happy ending by letting her rule the Monster Castle, which was her rightful place given Globgor once was the king of monsters. Maybe she couldn't fix the time and all that happened, but she could at the very least help.

Besides, it was a great help given that monsters and Mewmans still had much distaste on each other to just live together magically, it needed time to adapt, and so far having the kingdoms nearby with a free pass to both sides was showing to be really helpful. Even those who disliked the idea, at the very least respected the new ways of living… Well, after the battle that is.

Eclipsa also had been kind to them by giving the Crown back and rebuilding Mewni. So now they could rule together and work so both kinds would live and work together, the progress has been promising so far. Both crowns had been working hard to make it possible to unify in the future.

"Do you think…" Star said unsure "Am I doing the right thing?"

Eclipsa thought a bit, "There's no way we can know. For as long as I know you, Star, you have been writing the history your own way, taking what you thought was best by following your heart but taking your mind into it." She smiled at the princess "You proved yourself over and over again, you showed every single one that you can do more than one can imagine and even yourself. When we think you're done, you come with something new and that is what makes you the best queen of us all. Even now, I have no doubt you have something in your mind of how you can make things right and fix, and if you don't have the answers… you're on the way there." She looked into Star's eyes and smiled "Am I wrong?"

For the first time in a long time, Star smiled. Eclipsa had her right, she was trying to find a way to fix things up… But she didn't know the cost of it. And if she were to admit…

"I am scared." Star replied.

"I would think it weird of you not to be. You're about to face something new, but then again, you can always overcome the obstacles given. You and Marco."

Star blinked, her heart racing to the name familiar and dearly but yet new to her. She repeated in a whisper to her lips, she could even see the image of a boy with a red hoodie over his head…

A loud childish laughter distracted her. Both of them looked beyond their table to where Globgor was playing with Meteora and… Since when Eclipsa had another child? Star felt her chest tight and the coughs coming up, but she couldn't take that since the feeling of dread and anxiety had been washing over her. To the memory of her holding the other girl as a newborn baby, to her older brother introducing them, and the images flooding back.

Her head hurt, breathing was hard, and she couldn't even walk in a straight line when she got up abruptly to leave the garden abandoning the worried calls of the other queen. She just had to leave that place. She had to be quiet and think, she had to…

Remember.

She remembers now. The friendship, the love, the heartbreak. Earth, the school, her friends, the time spent between dimensions, the fights and all that came along. She remembers him always by her side and their hands together, she remembers his little sister, who they had promised to let grow with Meteora again, she remembers Diaz, who asked to be called as her parents too, she remembers why the earrings were so important. She remembers Angie telling her goodbye and Rafael holding her close…

She was so stressed up by then she didn't get to think about Mariposa, who wasn't around and didn't get mentioned by them.

She feels the tears on her eyes and coughs some more petals as she falls on her knees. She remembers the sickness and what happened. She remembers why it's so important that the plan works and she gets someone to take care of what's left once she's gone…

Eclipsa steps behind her carefully, and kneels to the ground, trying not to scare her after how she fled the garden. Her hand makes gentle circling motions until Star is calmed enough to speak if she wishes.

"Mariposa…" Is all she can say.

Eclipsa bites her lip and sighs, deciding to say once for all. "As you know, after how well Meteora and her bonded, we agreed with Diaz to have them grow together. The vacations here and school time on Earth… Since me and Globgor were going on the vacation trip early and Mariposa wasn't in school yet, we invited her to come."

Star slowly turned to look at Eclipsa as she continued, still sniffing for what she was about to hear, "That's when they contacted us and told about what was to happen. We spoke to Moon too and… We talked. A lot. So we decided that Mariposa was taken care of by us, and Diaz sent all her material to study, and also things to be remembered by. We thought about moving to Earth or they moving here, but… It didn't solve the problem in the end. Angie said they had Marco to take care after, and they had been parenting once, they would miss Mariposa everyday, but it would be the best. Rafael agreed they couldn't take Meteora away from us to take care of given she had magic, and that we had been apart for so long and we finally had our second chance…"

"So Mariposa is trapped in here."

"Mariposa is growing up with Meteora…" Eclipsa sighed, "She's too young to understand she can't go back to Earth. We have all the stuff from her to know and we're gonna tell her, but…" The queen took a breath, "The Evanescent magic took effect here too… Mariposa doesn't remember anything about Earth aside from what we told her."

Star choked as she started crying harder, she didn't mind to know if the petals were choking her or the tears, believing she deserved at this point. She just tore a family apart and erased a little girl's memory of her own family. Mariposa didn't remember her family back on Earth and by this she could only guess that the portals cutting severed those ties and by that maybe the Diaz couldn't remember her too.

She deserved to suffocate on those petals.

Now that she thought about it, the Diaz were looking into a family album when she left… They weren't looking into her pictures only, but the ones with Mariposa.

"What have I done?!" Star whispered crying in pain "Why no one told me?!"

"Oh dear…" Eclipsa caressed her head "You had already so much… None of us wanted to give you that pain and burden. It was a parenting decision for adults to take, and we did. We didn't want you to take the blame or responsibility."

"What for?!" Star continued to cry "How can I ever forgive myself from separating her from her family, for her losing her memories? for them to lose their daughter?!"

Eclipsa smiled sadly and was about to speak when she saw someone else in the room. Star looked up to see the little girl with brown skin and the cute mole as her brother, those big brown eyes confused looking at them as she slowly approached, her hair a bit longer than she remembered and she looked at Star sad.

"Don't cry…" She said, patting Star's face.

Star smiled sadly, trying her best to not scare Mariposa as she picked her up and hugged tightly, she looked so much after her brother it hurt. She continued to whisper how much she was sorry until she began to calm down.

Eclipsa stayed there supporting Star by staying by her side simply. It didn't miss her eyes the smudged makeup that covered the broken hearts, nor the petals on the floor.

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Janna walked into Marco's room letting out a whistle. There were papers all around, his computer open with at least thirty tabs open, there were scribbles, notes, and red strings on the floor, maps, pictures and even other stuff that Janna didn't pay attention to in the middle of her process.

"I understand why you weren't surprised with my board now."

Marco chuckled as he marked something in another note, "I'm the crazy guy, remember? This is organized close to how my mind had been before. I don't like to admit it, but those pills do help."

"Are you taking them, by the way?"

"Yup." Marco took the bottle out his pocket and shook so Janna could see and hear the pills inside before he put back in his pocket, "They are necessary, so I take them. I wish I didn't have to? Yes, but for now I need them and that's it."

Janna clapped to him and Marco rolled his eyes. He knew medicine was important, and took time for him to accept he needed the mental medicine just like any other sick person would need. If they were for the heart he would take them, so why not take them for his brain?

"You said you had news." The former witch replied, trying to step further into the room, "Is this it?"

Marco got up and bit his marker end thinking a bit more into how to voice his thoughts.

"I think I know how to open the portal." Janna stopped in her tracks, not daring to make any movement until he continued "If this place was once connected to Mewni through magic, it means it should be connected again, even if just a little. Might not be enough to create a portal, but the magic is already in both places, Earth is already connected to the magic dimensions as so. We could reunite a number of people to try to gather enough energy for the scissor to work, but even so might not be enough, and focusing them on one place might not help the magic to keep flowing."

His friend decided it was safer to step back and lean on the doorframe, "Ok, so, we need to reunite or not?"

"We need everyone to stay where they are." Marco replies nodding "If you had been scattered all around the world, there might be a reason for it. Tami said that the natural course is that the flow comes back little by little and the other witches and whatever are waiting the time for it, so I thought, 'what if that's it?' you know?" Marco said happily. Janna blinked slowly to him and continued her deadpan stare so he could continue for her to understand. "She cut the unnatural magic, her own and what came with her, the witches might have been influenced by the flow of her magic around, that's why they left."

Janna thought for a second, "Actually, that makes sense. If it wasn't much and suddenly there's a new one around they might have been caught by the new magic too… They could have lost all the magic like I did for mixing it up."

"Like filling a cup of water with orange juice. If you want to get rid of the mix you need to get rid of both." Marco said "And because they had the influence, they couldn't risk to stay. However!" Marco said pointing to a scheme drawing on his wall, "Tami said she and the other left were more natural magicians, that used Earth and natural sources, that's why they are out of risk!"

There was a gasp heard and then a voice replying to him, "It's natural magic!"

The trickster took her phone out of her jacket and showed him her mentor on video call who was clapping and smiling happily. "Well, that explains how I was so oddly and suddenly put in Japan."

"You weren't there before?"

"Nope!" She replied "I made a test to come here, but I was sure to fail because of some missing papers, but then they suddenly were found and approved at the last second." She thought for a second, "I wonder if there are others who have done this too."

"It might if we go by Marco's theory." Janna replied. "Maybe the Elders knew that we could restore the magic flow by ourselves and made a way to scarce us around the globe." She shrugged.

"If that's the case," The boy continued "I thought that if you all used your magic at the same time, it might be enough to get magic on Earth flowing on the levels that it was again."

The red haired woman frowned a bit in worry, "I'm not sure, it might need a lot of people doing it at the same time, and there are the timezones, not to say so far the ones I had contact don't have that much power enough to make our magic connect one point to another to make it flow." She sat back on the chair and crossed her arms thoughtfully.

"Marco, are you really asking us to do that? We would be risking to expose ourselves and be hunted down to death again for what? So you can be with your girlfriend?"

Marco gulped. She had a point, there were many factors to make it harder. to make one witch to pass the magic from a point to another, then that required that some ignored the timezones, and…

And this was the best chance he had to see Star again.

"Yes." He replied "I'm asking you to do this so I can go to her. I will cross every mountain, swim every ocean just to fix what I've broken. If I need to go around the world to talk and ask one by one to agree then I will. This is the best if not the only chance I got to be with her. So yes, I'm being selfish and asking you all to take the risk to restore the Earth magic and I can be with Star again."

There was a moment of silence before a loud squeal and giggling from the phone startled both in the room, "Okay!"

"Okay?!" Both Janna and Marco replied surprised.

"Okay." The witch nodded, grabbing some papers and writing something in them, "I'm a big fan of love, and that confession? That got me. So yeah I'm going to do it. I'll talk to my friends and the ones I got in contact to plan this and will get back to you. Ah! I can't wait to help you two get back together!" Suddenly the woman began to transform the notes she wrote into paper birds and sent them to the window. "I have much work to do, I'll see you later!" With another set of squeals and giggles she hung up.

Both teenagers stood there looking at the phone screen locking it up in shock. It was rather… easy. And that was exactly why Marco wasn't sure if it would work, if there is something he learned about this whole thing is that nothing would come easy to him.

Still, he had high hopes and for that, he grabbed the bracelet that once belonged to her and held it tight, hoping that soon he could give it back, that then he could hold her hand - if she allowed, he had to recognize that he had every right to reject by how things messed up.

"I would love to stay," Janna commented but stopped for a second, "Wait nevermind, I'll stay and look around your stuff to see if I get any other stuff to this mad plan of yours"

"Gee, thanks" Marco shrugged and moved for her to come into his room. "Be my guest. I'll get some air."

"By the smell of this room, you do need it."

He ignored the comment even through his blush. He knew she was just teasing him… right?

He was walking down the corridor when he saw his dog lying in front of the guest door crying. Once he saw Marco, it got up and began to scratch the door asking to be open for him. He was ready to open the door when he touched the handle and suddenly began to hear a song from the other side.

When I wake up, yeah I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you!

He stopped for a moment, he was sure the room wasn't in use for a long time and that there was nothing on the other side of that door. So that could only mean…

When I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you!

Marco opened the door, but instead of looking into the visitor room that was very much like his, he saw a huge room, with an aquarium, stairs, and even a balcony. He stepped into the room with a fond smile on his face as he watched in admiration the figure on the bed jumping and dancing to the song blasting in her speaker.

If I get drunk, Well I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you!

It was another of her times singing super glue songs, she was jumping on her bed as she sang the lyrics, laughing happily as she did so, her golden hair dancing up and down, her bed already a mess from her dancing.

And if I haver, well I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who's haverin' to you!

He couldn't help but smile openly at the memory, it was such a happy and innocent time. She was just there dancing and singing to a good song and enjoying the moment, while he was making nachos down the stairs. She was smiling so brightly and it was such a good memory that made him laugh a bit to see her like that.

There was a noise beside him, she didn't notice because of the song and how distracted he was by the scene, he found himself years young putting down the table some nachos only to lean on the doorframe crossing his arms and watch her performance of happiness.

How he didn't realize by then he was already falling for her? That fond and loving smile and the joy he remembers to feel just to watch her jumping to the song and be happy for a moment… It was enough to make him smile and be happy himself.

He laughed, they were really oblivious.

Star soon took notice of him standing there watching her and motioning to him to get up her bed and join her, he gave an eye roll pretending to be reluctant but joined her more than glad.

"When I'm lonely, well I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who's lonely without you!"

They began to dance together, both laughing above the bed as they continued to lip sync the song.

"When I'm dreaming, well I know I'm gonna dream, I'm gonna dream about the time when I'm with you!"

They began to run in circles in the bed, getting dizzy and then switching to another game.

"When I go out, well I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you!"

They began to try to ticklish one to another. Sometimes missing and others getting right making another fit of laughter go up.

"And when I come home, yes I know I'm gonna be, I gonna be the man who's coming home with you"

They both sang together getting louder and louder until they reached the chorus and began to shake their heads, messing up their hair hard as they sang one to another as they jumped in her bed.

"But I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more! Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door!"

The song went on, and Marco grabbed a pillow to hit her, Star laughed, grabbing another to defend and attack him. They stayed like that until the chorus came back again and they sang together breathless.

"But I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more! Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door!"

They both give a last jump and fall laying down on her bed in a fit of laughter with their belly hurting and red faces from all the energy wasted just for the fun and singing together and having a fun time.

The laughter began to fade in the air as the memory faded and gave place to reality. His dog was laying down on the bed that was just like his, he stepped closer and sat there looking at the bracelet once again.

"I miss her too." he told Barko, embracing the animal and caressing it's fur until he fell asleep.

At the door, Janna looked down at the floor before taking her phone and dialing some numbers. She couldn't let him go on like that, if Marco needed to meet the girl again to get his closure, then he would meet her. Even if she had to ask some favors she had been saving.

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"MOON!"

Her name echoed into the room and she flinched, but still took a breath. She should have expected that Eclipsa would find out about what was going on sooner or later, and given she took Star as a granddaughter/nephew it was no surprise she would be furious once she found out about the whole thing and not only what Moon let her know.

"Before you take out your fury on me, take a seat so I can explain…"

"You erased her memories!" Eclipsa slammed her fists on the table, "You took away her memories about the boy she loved!"

"I had my reasons to do so and you would understand if-"

"And she has broken hearts! Her magic is unstable, she's been crying non-stop! Moon, have any idea of what you have done?!"

"I have plenty of ideas of what I did and I did what was best for her!" Moon replied, raising her voice.

Globgor came into the door a bit after being accompanied by River, Glossaryck and Baby. The monster tried to calm down his wife by gently pulling her to sit, but she refused, still staring at Moon like she could punch her, maybe she would.

"What right do you think you have to take away her memories?!"

"It was hurting her far worse than it should!"

"And taking away was the answer?! That's not up to you to decide, Moon! You out of everyone should know this!"

"Sweetie," Globgor tried again, "let's hear what they have to say."

"I did what I had to do to save my daughter, you would have done the same!"

Eclipsa gasped more angrily than before "What harm could the memories of Marco could have caused?!"

"The memories are killing her! From inside out!" From the moment of shock of the other queen, Moon took a breath and looked down, she admitted in defeat the truth about the condition. "Star has the Deadly Flowers."

Eclipsa let out a breath and finally let herself be led by her husband to sit down as he stood beside her holding her hand, now just as worried about the princess' condition as his wife was.

"What stage is it?" The king of monsters asked.

Moon sat down, River coming by her side as her hands massaged her temples, "She was vomiting the flowers weeks ago. We didn't have many options, so…"

Globgor nodded and Eclipsa looked at him confused, as he clearly knew of the sickness better, it wasn't fully disclosed how many monsters fell victim to such sickness. As he explained what the disease was and the cure methods, Eclipsa felt more heartache for the princess that was playing with the two children in her room at the moment.

"So… you took the flowers out?" She asked.

"We did," River replied, "but she seed is placed in her heart so…" He looked down sadly and Globgor continued for him.

"The flowers will continue to bloom over and over again, and quicker every time, until it comes to a point where… There's no way out."

Eclipsa felt her eyes water and held her husband's hand tight, "There must be something we can do! Some potion or-"

"Don't you think I've been trying?" Moon replied looking up with teary eyes, "I sleep every night without knowing if my daughter will be there in the next day, or for how long… And she's about to marry someone she doesn't love because Marco is back on Earth where we cannot reach anymore."

Eclipsa sniffed and stood in silence for a moment with them. It was a serious situation, and if Star had come to pass before the wedding would be even worse.

Even so, she knew she should, but couldn't bring herself to tell them that Star had partially recovered her memories and the flowers are back. Star made her promise not to do so and now she gets why, she's afraid of losing them again and by now… That's all she has left of her happiness back then.

"So we… wait?" Eclipsa said reluctantly.

Moon closed her eyes with River, showing how much pain they have to admit that all they could do was to provide the best they could while they could, but they couldn't afford a cure or miracle to get her rid of her pain and death.

Eclipsa wished for a moment that she could have convinced Diaz to move to Mewni, this could have solved so many things… but they didn't know back then. Even if they did, once Star severed the magic ties, they would have been sent back to the place they belonged, without magic.

But if was like that, then-

"Wait, Star erased her magic back from Earth, then the same happened from here, right?"

"That's right." Glossaryck confirmed.

Eclipsa then looked up a bit more hopeful, "Then how's Mariposa still here?"

It took a moment for the others to understand what she meant, but when they did, the same feeling of a sparkle of hope that got into them.

"That's impossible!" Moon said, still hard-believing "Earth is magicless!"

Globgor got up and turned to them, "Eclipsa has a point, we had been taking care of Mariposa ever since the portals closed. The only thing that changed was that she also lost her memories, she is still affected by the magic, and possibly what happens back on Earth for that to happen."

The Mewni queen got up and turned to the magic guide, "Glossaryck, is it possible?"

The blue creature thought for a moment, "Earth has its own natural magic like all dimensions, but would be very unlike - not to say impossible to make it connected back or flow enough to connect again. It would be necessary to have an incredible amount of magical power to reconnect with their own magic to make it flow enough and then later they do it again for someone from this side to make the connection."

"We didn't have to do that the first time," River complained.

"The ties weren't severed or blocked then. Just out of use" Said Baby. "Besides, Earth has been out of Magic users for many years, and we have no communication now. They would have to make this plan on their own with none of our communication. No one knows about this to make it happen."

Moon was about to try to argue with another solution when Tom and Ponyhead got into the room in a hurry and were screaming with something in their hands. The queen was about to ask for them to calm down and sit when Tom put the device with a point blinking and made her go speechless.

"I don't know how, but somehow, they are up to something!" Tom said.

The others got around Moon to look into the screen and see what they were so amazed about too and felt themselves in shock as much as the teenagers were, but in a good way. Glossaryck groaned rolling his eyes, but smiled still after everyone gave a hopeful laugh.

On the other side of the room, Ponyhead was dancing in the air chanting happily "I cannot believe it! Earth-Turd did it! Earth has magic again!"

_________

This is for now.

On a brighter note, I'm out of the horrible writer block the finale and few other things gave me. That is to say I'm finally writing the final chapters to go.

Thank you again, and onwards to the finale!

PS: we got a discord now if interest anyone :)

A special shout out to @tamiletrange for having my back and also, a special tribute for her in this chapter as Janna’s mentor

@manifisto42 @judytrashcan @thatgirlinspace @ido100 @cid331 @krystalhuntress @mrevaunit42 @luigifan7 @avatarrocks132 @touya-r @dvvkroh @starkiller9903 @oofcorp @ironlightsheep @ironlord-firoh @the-x-files-fan

[lady-z-writes]

What Lies Beneath - Chapter 4

Heisenberg x fem!reader fic

Summary: A trip to a neighboring village introduces Heisenberg to Reader – a Cadou experiment that didn’t quite meet Miranda’s standards. Reader was told to stay away from the Lords – as her powers will only make them weaker – but there’s something alluring about this rugged man, especially when he’s between her thighs.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Reader and Heisy have some steamy morning fun after an enjoyable night. More smut this chapter:

Gentle snoring is the first thing [Y/N] hears. It’s sunrise and she’s tangled in the sheets with Heisenberg. The sunlight is peeking through the curtains she failed to close last night. After their little endeavor on the couch, they’d moved on to her room.

Heisenberg looks peaceful for the first time since they’d met. She finds herself wanting to cuddle up into him, place her head on his bare chest, play with the dusting of chest hair, trace her fingers along his scars.

This is exactly why she avoids all contact – getting attached to people can cause so much grief. It’s almost as if she wants to lay here staring and daydreaming because when he wakes, she’s sure the pheromones will have worn off, sure that he’ll want to leave and never look back. And doesn’t she want that, too? For his safety.

Their banter last night had been refreshing. Something about him drew her in.

Her eyes trail down his body, stopping at where the bedsheets just barely cover the start of his pubic bone. Last night, he’d fought her when she tried to remove his shirt, but now here he is completely bare for her.

It’s not long before she rests her head on his chest. The startled gasp that leaves him makes her nervous, but she pretends to sleep and waits…

And, to her surprise, he doesn’t pull away.

She must have fallen asleep because suddenly the sunlight is blinding and there’s this sensation on her inner thighs. Squinting, she finds Heisenberg with his lips on her, facial hair against sensitive flesh, tongue trailing toward her naked pussy.

He’s hard – still needy. Maybe it’s the pheromones, maybe it’s the morning wood and the completely naked woman in the bed beside him, but he found that he couldn’t start the morning without a meal.

[Y/N]’s head is thrown back when his mouth meets her core. A talented tongue traces along her folds. Heisenberg loves eating pussy, loves the pressure from her thighs clamping on his head, the way she thrusts her hips toward him.

She’s impressed with how quickly he gets her to orgasm. He seems to know just the right intensity she likes; pointing his tongue and tracing pressure over her clit. His hands are cupped under her ass after she comes down, lifting her hips to have more control over her body.

“So Goddamn wet,” he grunts out.

“H-honey, wait…” her clit is so overstimulated, but he refuses to stop.

The pet name makes him purr a moan against her pussy and the sensation is exquisite. [Y/N] grips at his hair, unable to control the moans as he slips two fingers inside of her, arching toward her g-spot and pumping his fingers incessantly.

“You’re gonna cum on my fingers,” he breaks away to speak this to her and the sight of him is so arousing: lips swollen, facial hair coated in her wetness, pupils blown wide, cheeks reddened. “You got me?”

“Yes, sir.”

And just like that, he dips his head back down and continues eating her out like it’s his job. The sounds of her wetness, his grunts and moans, the enjoyment he’s getting from this is enough to push [Y/N] closer to that edge once more.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this,” she can’t help but cry out.

She feels him smirk against her. “Thank you,” he purrs before pumping his fingers in her, holding the pressure there, then releasing which causes a desperate need in her – those few seconds of stillness making her walls clench around his fingers.

“Oh, you’re close, huh?” he chuckles.

She nods but he’s not looking. Mouth back on her, he urges another orgasm out of her – this one so powerful, she can’t help but repeat ‘thank you’s like a prayer.

Eyes closed as she comes back down, she feels him set her back on the bed. Her breathing still hasn’t slowed by the time his hands are pushing her to the side.

“Turn over.”

She flips on her front, a question on her lips, but it’s soon answered when he pulls her hips toward him, knees on the bed. Heisenberg lines his cock up with her entrance and slowly pushes himself in.

Her warmth and wetness makes him choke on air as he bottoms out.

“Ah, fuck,” he can’t help the movement of his hips – she feels too good.

Hand tracing up her spine, he reaches for her neck, choking her lightly as he pulls away then slides back into her. The speed isn’t as quick as last night. He’s quite enjoying teasing his tip before thrusting deeply into her.

Letting go of her throat, he hears her gasp for air. His body arches over hers as he presses open-mouthed kisses along her skin. His movements have completely stopped and [Y/N] keeps thrusting back, hoping to get more stimulation.

“Greedy,” he chuckles. “You came already. My turn.”

A whine leaves her. Heisenberg reaches to turn her head to him, meeting her lips in a deep kiss. Gingerly, he starts moving inside of her again and she breaks away to moan.

Just when [Y/N] thinks she’s getting used to the pace he’s moving at, he switches it up on her. She soon realizes his game: he’s edging the both of them.

“Heisenberg…” she grumbles in an almost-curse.

He spanks her, which only turns her on more.

“Quit your whining.”

He stops then – completely halts all movement just so he can pull out of her. [Y/N] is clawing back at him, cussing and glaring until she feels him shove her down; face in the sheets. He grips her hair then, pulls her head up.

“Get on your back,” he hisses. She follows instructions when he lets go of her hair. “Such a brat. I make you cum several times and yet you’re still complaining?” he hoists her ankles over his shoulders as he slides in her pussy, pinning her arms to her sides with a harsh grip. “Get close to that edge, kitten. Now.”

The pace he’s gliding in and out of her is making the bed creak and this angle is getting her there so fast. She bites her lower lip, turns her face away, doesn’t want him to know she’s close because he’ll stop again.

“Uh uh, look at me,” he huffs out. Sheepishly, she does. “Ah, there it is…” he loves her expression right now – she looks like a centerfold. “You gonna cum?”

[Y/N] nods stiffly.

He’s close – he’s so fucking close – but he wants to drag this on. Switching to a slower pace usually helps him, but not this time. He can feel the flipping in his gut, his balls tighten.

“Fuck. You don’t cum on my cock right now,” he groans, “you don’t get to.”

With his permission, [Y/N] is relieved, thrusting up to meet him and trying to chase that release. If she’s honest, she doesn’t think her body has another in her, but somehow, she’s there – toes curling, thighs trembling as she rocks through another orgasm.

The minute she whispers his name, Heisenberg is completely unable to hold back any more. With a few loud moans, he lets himself spill into her.

When he flops down beside her, [Y/N] looks over at him with a slight smile on her face. He raises a brow at her, throws his forearm over his eyes.

A long groan comes from him. “I swear, kid, I could sleep for a week here with you.”

She rolls over, rests her chin on his chest. “You know you can’t stay.”

“Ya made that pretty clear last night, yeah,” he grunts. “Why can’t I stay?”

“Mother Miranda told me that I’m bad news for you Lords.”

He rolls his eyes. “Seem pretty good for me.” The dry chuckle he gives makes her smirk.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah, your power.”

“Or lack-thereof,” she corrects.

He quirks an eyebrow at her. “What, you think you don’t have powers?”

“I’m essentially a walking cockblock.”

He gets a good laugh out of this. When he’s calmed down, he lets out a, “So Miranda fucked you up that much to think you’re a failed experiment?” She simply blinks at him. “She hid you away from the village – from all of us – from her. Don’t you see how powerful you are?”

[Y/N] doesn’t speak so he hoists her up by her elbows as he sits forward.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she mutters. “It’s not safe.”

It’s almost like a mantra she’s got embedded in her head. Heisenberg suddenly feels sorry for [Y/N], wondering just what Miranda did to her to make her this docile and defeated. He can imagine…

“What’s not safe is me being away from the factory for too long.”

He can’t help but think about Sturm and the others – what might they do without him keeping an eye on things? His determination to reach this place far overshadowed the obligations he had in his factory. He wasn’t ready for them to see his metal army, wasn’t ready to unleash them – still needed more time.

“I don’t want to hold you here,” she traces her finger along his cheek.

“Is there…a lake here?” he blurts out, ignoring her statement.

“A lake?”

“Yeah…I…” a shake of the head. “It’s just…” he wants to tell her, but his instinct says not to. “I think I’ve been here before.” He leaves it at that.

“Oh. Well, yeah…a few kilometers away from this house. Opposite end of town.” At her reply, his eyes look hollow. “I could take you if you’d like.”

“That’s alright,” he stands from the bed, squints around the room to find his clothes. “I’ve been away too long already. I’m sure it’ll be noticed.”

[Y/N] feels like sinking into the bed. Didn’t she know this was going to turn out this way? With him dressing and then leaving for good? She did. She knew. But things were just so lonely.

“It was nice having a houseguest for once,” she accidentally says aloud.

Heisenberg gives her a look as he buttons his pants.

“S’that so?” he grabs for his shirt. “Well, maybe I’ll have to stop back sometime.”

Her heart swells. “You shouldn’t. You can’t.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he steps toward the bed. “I can if I want.” He kisses her. “And after losing sleep with you? Nice little vacation out here. I get what I want.”

“Keep talking like that, I won’t let you leave.” She pulls him in for another deep kiss.

Heisenberg groans as she bites his lower lip. “Fuck, you’re tempting.”

“Still feeling the pheromones?”

“No,” he pulls her into him for another kiss. “Just enjoying what’s right in front of me.” She smiles into the kiss before he pulls back. “I really gotta get going.”

“After I wash the sweat and cum off, right?” at [Y/N]’s words, he hums. “I’ll let you watch.”

•••

She bathes in almost complete silence – minus two quick conversations. One, that he should have breakfast before the journey. Two, that he needs help getting pointed in the right direction because he “stumbled here.”

Convincing him to eat breakfast is easy, especially when she’s naked, his eyes tracing all over her. It’s like he’s appreciating fine art and to say it’s flattering is an understatement.

Heisenberg is happy to have a meal before heading out, but he feels like time is not on his side. Though there’s a naked woman in front of him, he can’t help but imagine what’s taken place at the factory with him gone.

When [Y/N] touches him on the shoulder, she’s out of the tub – dressed, ready to go make him some food. He follows, but he’s still imagining one of his ‘siblings’ finding out that that he’s gone. The anger consumes him for a moment.

Watching her work in the kitchen makes him yearn for something he’s long since forgotten about. Life in the factory often distracts him. Planning an uprising and drowning in hatred for his fake family really helps him ignore the nagging feeling that he could have been happy.

“Got a map or anything?” he says, pouring syrup on his pancakes when they’re ready. She shakes her head. “Well, uh…this complicates things.”

“I know my way to your village,” she’s sheepish as she says this. He glances at her with a mouthful of food. “When I was younger, I’d sneak through the mountains until I could get a look.”

“So, you can get me back quick?” he knew without her, he’d get lost and that would take too long.

She shoots him a long look before sighing. “It’s not a good idea to have me with you.”

The frown on his face is unnerving. He slams his hands on the table. “You will help me.”

He knows he’s behind schedule. He’d planned to just…take a look at the village – if it even existed – reminisce a little on the loss of his father, the loss of future fishing trips here; reignite the hatred he has for Miranda. And then…this happened.

And now he has yet another reason to hate Miranda.

[Y/N] says “fine” and the room returns to silence.

•••

The long, warm coat she’s wearing billows in the brisk air as she presses onward. She’s refused to let him near her – demanding that he stay several steps behind as they climb through the mountains. That way, if there’s an attack, she can dart ahead and give him space to use his powers.

Only he’s not staying so far away. He imagines bringing her into the factory, starting a nice fire, taking off her coat; the cold must be making her nipples so hard even underneath all those layers of clothing…

[Y/N] refuses to let him stay close, but he keeps trying. Her pace is exhausting her, but he keeps trudging onward, closer than she’d like. She’d told him repeatedly that this is for his own safety. If he’s able to use his powers, then he’s far enough away from her. If the Wendigo or something else attacks…

A shudder runs through her, the cold not bothering her, but the memories her thoughts are stirring up.

They’d been walking for a few hours, chatting about what the village is like, what his factory is like, how those family meetings go. [Y/N] stops at the top of the mountain and Castle Dimitrescu comes into view.

“Well, fuck,” he huffs as he stands beside her, looking down at the village.

How he managed to stumble to her village is a fucking miracle…

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he urges her on, but she pulls away from him, eyes wild.

“What are you talking about?”

“Aren’t you coming? Imagine what we could do together – with your power, Miranda could-”

She shakes her head. “Your plan-”

“-Needs ironing out, I know. But you could help me. We’ve got so much to discuss.”

[Y/N] wants to go, truly, but she knows he’ll be powerless with her near and if Miranda were to find out, she’d surely harm Heisenberg.

“Heisenberg,” her hands are gripping at his coat and it’s stirring something in him that feels a lot like loss, a lot like goodbye. It makes him angry. “I need you, safe. Right now, you should lay low.”

He looks hurt for a second and then anger flashes across his face. She gives him an intense look.

“Soon. You…never know who’s watching,” her eyes flick toward Castle Dimitrescu and suddenly he understands.

“Soon, then,” he nods, tips his hat.

The urge to kiss her is powerful, but he knows she’s right – any of those winged fuckin’ creatures from that oversized bitch’s castle could come after them and then they’d have a body on their hands, which would surely raise suspicion.

She leaves without looking back. One glance and she knows she’d be chasing after him to find his factory. [Y/N] holds her breath until she can no longer hear his footsteps in the opposite direction through the snow.

It’s for the best, she tries to tell herself.

Whatever they had for those few hours clearly was a mixture of the pheromones and too many lonely nights. The alcohol surely didn’t help keep her composed. Still, it was a wonderful night…

The walk back is silent and empty.

[headtothecoast]

hogwarts!geraskier au

geralt is a hufflepuff and jaskier is a slytherin if you think otherwise be prepared to catch these hands.  and maybe a lute.

geralt's appearance is very much meant to intimidate and jaskier's is meant to sooth.  however, the sorting hat doesn't care about that.  it cares about intent. jaskier intends to get famous.  geralt intends to help people.

so picture this,

muggleborn jaskier who realizes he can literally enchant people with his music and wants to become famous.  pureblood geralt whose father vesemir separated from their family when he was younger but takes in children that are unwanted in some way, be it birth/magic/social status.

the two meet on the train.  geralt is sitting alone in a cabin and he's quiet and angry as a kid because his family didn't want him and his brothers are off somewhere having fun but he isn't sure he wants to go to hogwarts because he would much rather be at home with roach.  he was scared he wouldn't be good at this whole magic thing, eskel had told him that's why his parents didn't want him so he may as well show up, not get put in a house, and take the train home back to roach.  that's the plan anyways.

at least until he hears a commotion in the hallway of the train and sees two 3rd years holding a 1st year with wants pointed at him and wicked smiles on their faces and it doesn't matter that geralt's never cast a spell he's seen eskel and lambert practice movements and vesemir perform this one often enough around especially vindictive parents that geralt casts such a strong protego he sends the 3rd years flying and the small 1st year is staring at him with the largest eyes he's ever seen and a split lip.

geralt intends to just walk away because the 3rd years don't look like they're coming back and geralt honestly can't believe it worked except the other 1st year sticks his hand out and introduces himself as jaskier the famous musician!  and thanks geralt for helping him and well no he didn't exactly have it under control and my goodness what year are you in because none of the older kids really wanted to help me the sods but you're much nicer than them aren't you and i don't really know how i keep getting myself into those sorts of messes and what magic did you just perform there?  i've never done magic before! didn't know it existed until my parents got a letter and they were more surprised than me i guess by golly you are tall mr. oh my goodness i am so sorry i didn't ask your name, what is your name?

and geralt has a headache as well as a better understanding for why those 3rd years wanted this kid out of their cabin but also it's less lonely in his cabin now that jaskier is sitting next to him jabbering away and fidgeting a little because of the silence and geralt almost forgets he was asked a question but tells jaskier his name and is rewarded with more conversation and praise and if jaskier rubs his wrists where the other kids had grabbed him then geralt ignores it and definitely doesn't hand him a chocolate frog when the trolley comes around and smile a little when jaskier's eyes nearly burst from his head when the frog leaps right out of the box and into his hand.  and then jaskier's sad because he doesn't want to kill the frog and geraaalt isn't that mean, to eat a real frog and geralt doesn't even get to weigh in that it's a fake one before the prefects walk around and remind everyone to change into their robes.

so geralt and jaskier are sitting again except jaskier keeps going on about his robes and then looks speculatively at geralt and asks if he knows anything about hogwarts.  geralt says he has older brothers and sisters that have attended and have been sorted into every house.  when jaskier asks him about the house system geralt tells him everything his brothers had told him, albeit haltingly. gryffindor is for the brave, slytherin for the clever, ravenclaw for the smart and hufflepuff for the loyal.  jaskier asks how the hat determines which one you are and geralt says it reads your mind, talks to you sort of, asks you what you want in life.  jaskier says he wants to be a musician and asks geralt what he wants.  geralt says he wants roach.  jaskier laughs and geralt prepares to be made fun of but jaskier says that's a wild name and asks what roach is and that it's so cool geralt has a horse or a foal because she's so little and goes off for a little bit before seeing the castle in the distance and sobering long enough to ask geralt if he thinks there's a bad house to get put in because he heard one of the older kids talking about slytherins.

geralt thinks for a moment because his brothers and sisters had been in every house.  there were slytherins, gryffindors, ravenclaws, and hufflepuffs all over kaher morhen during the holidays, so many he was sure they could hold class on the estate and hogwarts need not open its doors.  he knows that gryffindors are usually loud and boisterous, that ravenclaws are dedicated and single-minded, that slytherins always have a goal, and that hufflepuffs can always be found next to one of them.  he tells jaskier that none of the houses are bad, that each one is different and that whichever one jaskier gets put in would be lucky to have him.  slytherin just means you know what you want and you're determined more than anything to do it.

and suddenly geralt has his arms full of jaskier who is laughing and thanking him and telling him that he hopes they're in the same house because who wouldn't want to be in the same house as their very best friend.

geralt's eyes go wide because except for his siblings, who don't count, he hasn't ever had a friend.  and maybe from the look on jaskier's face of wide eyes and an unsure smile he thinks neither has he.  so geralt just nods and says even if they're not in the same house, siblings get put in different places all the time so it's not like they wouldn't see each other.

and suddenly they're standing in a hall with long tables and high ceilings and a short stool in the middle of stone floors while the headmistress explains some updates that geralt and jaskier are too nervous to hear but then the sorting hat sings a song about unity and trust and geralt elbows jaskier as if to say i told you so and suddenly he's sitting on the stool and talking to a hat.

another rivia.  how interesting.  you remind me of your father.  geralt sits up straighter at that.  the one thing vesemir had always refused to tell them was his own hogwarts house.  he didn't want to admit to favorites.  yes i can see that you would like that, or that you think you would like to be like your adoptive father.  interesting.  and yet the boy you met on the train earlier - jaskier, now there's a talkative kid if you've ever met one.  and geralt remains mostly silent while the hat deliberates, he doesn't know if he gets to say anything or weigh in on the decision.  of course you get a say.  what house do you prefer?  and geralt draws a blank.  he doesn't know.  supposes he doesn't care but that's not right he does care he just, never saw himself getting this far really.  expected he'd be back home with roach by now and not actually having to pick a house.  so geralt asks the hat which one is your favorite and the hat is surprised.  geralt thinks its laughing on his head and then so much like vesemir before the hat shouts HUFFLEPUFF

and there's clapping when he steps down from the stool and he goes to sit at the table except jaskier hugs him and is smiling and geralt smiles back and says good luck and then he's sitting by kids dressed in yellow and waiting for his friend to sit beneath a hat.

ah.  a muggleborn.  jaskier.  geralt's friend.  you have an interesting mind.  though i'm sure you know that.  surprised you aren't talking my flaps off right now actually given how much i saw you talk in geralt's head.  ah well.  let's see.  you want to be a musician correct?  at the question jaskier startles and peeps a yes, because the hat didn't sound like it was saying things outloud but just in his head and it was a strange feeling and jaskier wanted to ask geralt what the hat said to him except the hat asked him something else which he didn't quite catch but he heard the laughter and then - yes your thoughts are so fast it's hard to keep pace, and i can read minds.  well, given their speed and determination i guess we'll go with SLYTHERIN - the hat shouts and then jaskier is being wisked off to a sea of green.

and when the headmistress looks out over the tables and finishes her welcoming speech she claps her hands and says alright now off with you, arranged seating is only for the sorting ceremony, sit where you like

and geralt barely gets out an oomf before jaskier slams into him talking a mile a minute and geralt just smiles to himself and listens.

*sorry, these are always longer than i mean them to be.  they’re too long to feel like a headcannon and too short to be considered a fic.  

**not sure how/when to add yennifer sorry, maybe she’s a year above them and no one can figure out which house she’s in since she stole an outfit of each color because i wouldn’t put it past her

[getdownkyh]

Take Me (m) | Sungjin | Smut, intern!reader | 1.6k words

requested

Interns were always subjected to an extra amount of scrutiny, you were aware of that fact, but it didn’t make it hurt less when you were called out by your supervisor, in a general meeting out of all places. You felt humiliated, on top of already beating yourself up for making a mistake. 

All you wanted was for the day to end, so you could go back and sleep the stress away. You knew it wouldn’t solve your problem, but rational thoughts be damned, you just wanted to stop feeling like a failure.

You got back home, drying your tears and getting rid of any evidence of weakness. I’m not useless, you chanted the mantra in your head, mostly to convince yourself as you tried to carry on with your night routine, attempting to feel like you at least had this part of your life under control. 

But even simple daily chores were becoming a hassle when your mind was a dark place filled with jumbled, pessimistic thoughts. 

You didn’t recall doing the laundry being as hard as rocket science. But as you struggled with determining which setting to choose, accidentally mixing the colored and whites, and was now struggling to measure the liquid detergent and softener, you felt your hands shake as tears brimmed your eyes.

If Sungjin noticed, he didn’t say anything. But it was more likely that he didn’t notice, he was just cleaning up after you out of habit. 

It was too casual, the way he walked up to you, correcting the setting, taking out the whites and putting them in a separate bin and was now holding his hands out towards you so he could measure the detergent instead. Correctly. Which you apparently couldn’t even do right.

You gripped the lid harder, looking at him. “Can you not?”

Deep inside you knew it wasn’t his fault. But admittedly, you were not in the most rational state of mind. The anger bubbling inside you was making you feel like everything in the universe was trying to prove to you that you really couldn’t even do one thing right. 

“I’m sorry, what?” he looked at you, genuinely confused. That was when he saw your quivering lips and his expression shifted into one of concern, “Hey, are you okay?” 

His hand was gentle on your shoulder, but you were not having it. Shaking him off you walked away, not even looking back once as you entered the bedroom, stripping off your blazer and entering the bathroom, turning the cold water on at high volume. 

He followed you, of course he would. Knocking on the bathroom door, his voice was calm and collected, “Do you wanna talk to me about it?”

The cold water splashing on your face shook you out of your trance, a bit. You stared at your reflection, sighing before turning to unlock the door for him. You bit your bottom lip, fists tense by your sides. He walked in, cradling your face in his hands, eyes looking into yours. You uncurled your fists, feeling lost in how genuine his eyes looked.

He kissed you. Gently. And it took you a moment to process as you felt his soft lips pressing against yours, feeling your brain short circuiting. It felt so good, so calming and you didn’t think you, out of everyone, was worthy enough to feel such comfort.

But the calm was short-lived. Anger rose again in your chest, soon turning into deprivation, and you found your fingers tangling themselves in his shirt, pulling him closer towards you, your calves straining as you stood on your toes to kiss him deeper, whining as you pushed your tongue against his lips, nibbling harshly to coax him to open his mouth.

He pushed you away, hands firm on your jaw forcing you to look at him, “Breathe.” he commanded. 

You swallowed, before crumbling in his hold, tears running down your cheeks, him pulling you close towards his body, hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

Sensing that you were not gonna stop crying anytime soon, he brought his large hands under your thighs, lifting you up as you wrap yourself around him, clinging onto him as he brought you out of the bathroom and into the dimly lit bedroom, gently dropping you on the bed, propping himself up over your face to look at you.

He swiped his thumbs across your cheeks, “You’re breaking my heart.” 

You mumbled words of apology, not knowing exactly to who or why you were apologizing, but only feeling like you screwed up. 

He kissed you, effectively silencing you, thumbs swiping away your tears, “Pretty girls shouldn’t be crying. Let me make you feel better.”

You nodded at him, closing your eyes, pulling him towards you in another kiss, as he swallowed your soft cries.

He snuck a hand underneath your blouse, fingertips cold and wet from your tears, making you shiver slightly under his touch, the sensation distracting. He rubbed your skin, tracing shapes before he slid his hand towards the small of your back, and you arched into him, allowing him to unclasp your bra. 

He moved to kiss your cheek, while his hands grasped yours, guiding you towards the buttons of your blouse. You complied, unbuttoning, sighing as you felt yourself drifting into his guidance, your body obeying him, the one thing you knew you could do. 

He captured your lips in his again, hands firm around your ribs, squeezing before moving upwards and grabbing your breasts in his hands. “You feel so good in my hands.” 

He kissed your jaw, lips trailing downwards, and you gasped, breaths short, you couldn’t tell if it was from crying but you’d rather be out of breath from his touches. 

And so between choked out sobs, you told him exactly that, “Take me, Sungjin. Take my breath away, take all of me.” 

He hummed in agreement against your collarbone, both your hands tangling, unzipping your skirt and pulling the piece of fabric down, your underwear following right after. Positioning his face in front of your heat, he nipped the skin of your bare thighs as you clutched the sheets in your hands, gaze fixed on the ceiling, blinking away your leftover tears. 

Though when he licked between your folds, your eyes fell shut automatically, knuckles turning white. His deft tongue lapped between your slit, teasing your opening before he repositioned himself, flicking your bud in slow strokes, and then sticking his tongue out, pressing the flat muscle over your clit, blinding your senses. 

You whined, begging him to stop teasing, and he groaned, dismissing your request as he continued stimulating you, running the tip of his tongue over the sensitive bud over and over again, alternating his speed between excruciatingly slow and overwhelmingly fast. He kissed, sucked and licked until you fell apart, heel pressed into the mattress, hips rolling beneath his grip, moans coming out in broken voices. 

Sungjin didn’t let you recover from your high, using his fingers to collect your releases, pressing his calloused fingertips around the bud before toying with your swollen clit and you winced, hips moving upwards to disconnect yourself from him. Without hesitation he gripped your hips tighter with his left hand, and pushed two fingers in with the other. You felt a jolt of pain starting from your core, running through your spine and you gasped out his name.

He moved his fingers in and out, pace increasing gradually, “Shh, you can take me, you’re always able to take me so well.”

You swallowed again, filled with determination at his words of encouragement, convincing yourself in hushed whispers. Digging your nails into your own palm, you pushed your hips deeper into the bed, clenching and unclenching your cunt around his fingers.

You let out a sharp moan, feeling yourself nearing your second orgasm. Your body turned rigid, sucking in a breath as your abdomen tensed, propping yourself up on your elbows to see his fingers moving in a blur, scissoring in and out of you.

Your arms started shaking and Sungjin pulled out completely, your walls clenching around emptiness. He pushed you down onto the mattress, dragging his fingers that were covered with your arousal and previous release across your bottom lip, pressing slightly causing your bottom lip to jut out and you opened your mouth, sucking his fingers.

Sungjin groaned, his other hand making quick work of his erection, pulling them out and pumping a few times as he positioned himself in front of you, pushing in one swift stroke, and you moaned around his fingers, every thrust of his hips nudging your body upwards, his fingers pressing harder onto your tongue.

His thrusts were sharp, his rasp groans separating them. “You’re. Perfect.” 

Tears stung your eyes, but for a completely different reason compared to an hour ago and you whined again, feeling in a daze, completely filled to the brim.

He lowered his head to meet your eyes, and your eyebrows knitted together, a silent plea to signal him that you were close. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, and your lips parted in reflex. He dragged the wet digits along the side of your face,  “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, you’re perfect.” 

And you felt the orgasmic wave coursing through your veins again, eyes shut, forcing a stray teardrop to roll out, Sungjin kissing it away as he reached his own release, the warmth inside you making you feel whole and full in more then one way.

He reached out above you and turned off the bed lamp, pitch black engulfing both of you. Holding you securely in his arms, he kissed your forehead, “Sleep. Think of how good you can take me and let that be the only thought in your head tonight.” 

You nodded weakly, curling your fingers against his chest and falling into a deep slumber in an instant. 

[doctors-star]

“Yeah, I can see how hiding behind a rock is a much better strategy.”

and

“At least you’ll die doing what you love; Walking into danger.”

for the cowboys

“What’cha doin’?”

Tommy tilts his head back against the rock and looks up at the intruder. Once identified against the bright glare of the sun haloing him, Tommy reaches up and hauls on Johnny’s shirt until he too crumples and settles in the shade at Tommy’s side. “Hidin’,” he says, pressing a finger to his lips. “Sheriff's out huntin’ me, on account of how I pinched the paperweight from off of his desk.” He shifts and fidgets the fine glass hemisphere out of his pocket to show Johnny the chased leaves circling the edge and the cut lines along the top like a whisky decanter.

Johnny makes suitably impressed noises, leaning in so close that his hair brushes Tommy’s over the prize. “Dang,” he whistles in admiration, pressing his fingertip to an intersection of grooves hard enough to make it go white and bloodless, then pulling away to gaze at the lines as they slowly fade. “He’ll be hoppin’ mad. Your aunt’ll kill you,” he says, sounding slightly awed, and Tommy preens under the rightful worship.

Then remembers himself, and winces. Kill doesn’t cover it - she’ll have his hide, and then keep him locked in the house for weeks until she’s satisfied he’s learned something from it. He won’t see Johnny, either, except through the window in the short intervals before Aunt June notices and strides out with a broom to send the other boy skittering away like a stray cat. “Well,” he says sensibly, “that’s why I’m not home.”

Johnny nods seriously, kicking his legs out in front of him. He’s younger than Tommy, but shooting up faster; his new grown-boy trousers are already a good four inches higher than his ankles, and his shirts don’t fit as well as Tommy’s, and he hasn’t got any shoes in summertime, on account of how his mother’s given up on him until he’s really stopped growing - or so she had said when rounding up her son and stopping to have a quick cup of tea and a chat with Aunt June, which had inevitably turned into an hour of commiserating over having boys of their age to manage. Tommy turns his gaze on his own turn-ups, and decides that he doesn’t really mind being shorter if it means his clothes will fit him properly, and he can turn himself out presentably.

“Yeah,” Johnny says, “I can see how hidin’ behind a rock is a much better strategy.”

Tommy nods, pleased with himself and his prize. Which is, of course, when a voice sounds out across the narrow desert path. It is his Aunt June. She is, indeed, hopping mad. “Thomas Morrin, you come out here right now and account your actions to me!”

Tommy and Johnny spring to their feet entirely on nervous instinct, staring back towards town where Aunt June is striding out in their direction. The paperweight slips in his sweaty palm, but he can’t seem to put it down - or move, or anything, frozen in panic. I’m only twelve, his hindbrain squeaks unhelpfully. I’m too young to be put in jail, or skinned by Aunt June. I can’t die - Johnny and me were going to go swimming in the creek tomorrow.

He turns to Johnny - or more accurately, where Johnny had been, for Johnny is already several paces away to the northwest and the grasslands, and the creek. He turns back and offers Tommy an exhilarated, wild grin and holds his hand out. “Come on!” he hollers, dancing backwards on bare, dirty toes and gesturing for Tommy to follow. “We can make it!”

Tommy glances back at his aunt, and reckons he’ll take his chances. Who knows - maybe they’ll make it over the river, and Tommy can have one last swim before his inevitable incarceration for aeons, millennia, or at least a week.

--

Tommy is just gearing up to run when a voice cuts through his focus. “I’m terrible sorry, but could y’all just run through the plan for me one more time? I’m sure it’ll all make sense when you do.”

He relaxes out of his stance, catching Johnny opposite him likewise straightening and unlacing his fingers from the stirrup he’d made of them. They both turn hesitantly to their unexpected audience: it doesn’t sound like Noel is sure the plan will make sense. Don’t look like it either, with her eyebrow cocked sternly in their direction and one arm crossed over her waist to prop up the delicate fingers tapping her jawbone. Tommy resists the urge to doff his hat and shuffle his feet, like a badly-behaved schoolchild with a broken slate. “Well ma’am,” he says instead, “Johnny here is going to give me a lift. This should enable me to reach the porch roof, from where I shall climb onto the roof proper without any trouble.”

Noel’s fingers flick out to point at the roof apex instead. “In order to rescue the cat,” she says flatly.

Johnny puffs up a little, almost offended. “It’s a kitten,” he corrects. And it is - tiny and grey and mewling pitifully as it clings to the shingles. It’s the sorriest thing Tommy ever saw. It must be rescued.

Noel waves this triviality away easily. “The animal, which got there under its own steam and can doubtless return in the same way, I understand. And how will you get down, Mr Morrin?”

Tommy and Johnny frown at the roof. It doesn’t look that high. “I’ll be alright, ma’am.”

“Oh, alright,” Noel says easily. “At least you’ll die doin’ what you love: runnin’ headfirst straight into danger. Mr Williams,” she calls, ignoring how Johnny and Tommy both inflate in irritation at this slight on their wisdom and skills and instead waving her hand delicately to attract Will’s attention as he emerges from the home of one of his patients down the street, “won’t you come stand by me, just in case?”

Will’s dark eyes flick over the entire scene. “Oh dear,” he says conversationally, wandering over to stand at Noel’s side. She slides her spare hand into the crook of his elbow easily, tucking him into her side, and Tommy wonders all over again just what those two think of each other, ‘cause he ain’t got a damn idea. Then Will gestures invitingly at Tommy and Johnny. “Well, don’t stop on our account.”

Johnny glances sideways at Tommy. “But you reckon we oughtta stop,” he says, nearly a question.

Will shrugs and Noel looks like she’s chewing down a smile. Will’s eyes keep glancing off to one side, but that ain’t really unusual with him so Tommy doesn’t really notice it - not properly. “We wouldn’t dream of tellin’ y’all what to do,” Noel says sweetly.

The implication is clear. Unfortunately, Tommy is incapable of reading this as anything but a challenge, so he turns back to Johnny with new determination. Johnny braces his hands and Tommy bends down for maximum speed as he runs straight for Johnny, plants his boot in his palms, and is launched straight upwards and onto the porch roof. From there, without pausing for thought, he scrambles up the wall by wedging his toes in the gaps between the planks cladding the building, and doesn’t stop until he is crouched, cat-like, on the shingles.

Then he looks around him. Speaking of cat-like, there appears to be a distinct absence of kitten on the roof now.

He looks back down. Noel and Will are grinning without restraint, now, and Johnny is looking a little uncomfortable. Which is reasonable, as there is a small grey kitten clawing its way up his leg, and it is definitely not on the roof. It’s purring quite loudly, too, and Johnny’s finger keeps stretching out and stroking guiltily over its head.

“Did I scare it down?” Tommy asks, in a last-ditch effort to regain at least a little dignity in victory from this.

Will shuts one eye as he squints and shakes his head. “Naw,” Noel informs him happily, “it came down when the doc showed up.”

Tommy looks at the floor. It suddenly looks an awful long way away. “Johnny,” he says quietly, “how am I gonna get down?”

Johnny frowns, assessing the porch beams, the shingles, the siding. He tilts his head as he looks for routes and footholds and anything to make the return easier. He looks just like he had when they were kids and getting in and out of buildings without permission and fairly often with handfuls of sweets and brown sugar in their pockets, and with the maximum of mischief. They’d got into a lot of scrapes together, him and Johnny, but they’d survived ‘em all so far - Johnny would get him down.

Johnny squints up at him, shading his eyes under one hand. “Carefully?” he suggests.

[juliandev0rak]

Right Action

Chapter Four of I’m Your Villain

Words: 3054

Warnings: mentions of death

Cadmus has killed a lot of people. 

If someone were to ask him how many, he’d ask what counts as “killing”. Does it only count if he was the one who swung the blade? What about the people Agatha has killed? Or the people he hadn’t intended to kill- like guards, do they count? 

Suffice it to say the answer is a lot. 

He isn’t proud of it, but in his world it’s either kill or be killed. And Cadmus would rather not be killed. He has people to protect, not to mention- he’s pretty sure whoever eventually kills him won’t do it quickly.

Cadmus runs towards the clearing where he’d left Alecto. He isn’t fleeing, he’s simply… regrouping.

As he runs through the woods he tries to remind himself of the people he needs to protect, Daphne, Alexander, Avronne itself. Cadmus is turning his back on all of them by turning his back on this job. If he doesn’t do this the city could be in danger, or his father could decide he’s no longer useful. The Comte could take it out on Daphne.

He comes to a halting stop in front of Alecto and catches his breath. Agatha is curled up at the base of a nearby tree, looking at him in confusion. Her tongue flicks out in a questioning hiss. 

“I don’t know what just happened,” Cadmus answers.

He needs to return to finish the job, there’s no way around it. His father won’t let him live if he fails, and if he’s dead there won’t be anyone around to protect Daphne. So he needs to kill this princess, this child, in exchange for the safety of another child. Surely his sister’s life matters more than some stranger’s.

It’s one small life for the good of his kingdom. It’s insignificant, just one more death in the long line of others. What’s a little more blood on his hands.

But when he closes his eyes he doesn’t see the princess, he sees Daphne.

“Fuck.” Cadmus walks a circle around the clearing, stopping in front of a large boulder. He kicks it hard, and the slight pain in his foot sharpens his senses again. At least pain he can understand.

While he’s been pacing, the sun has set and Cadmus needs to get back to the castle while the guests are occupied with dinner. He’s missed his best chance at a clean job, but he’ll come up with plan b. 

He grabs an apple from his pack and eats it as his brain works to find a new course of action. Sickly sweet juice runs down from his lip and off of his chin, the drop lands on the dark fabric of his pants. He brushes it off with disdain and turns his thoughts to the layout of the castle. Getting into the princess’ room will be easy, but what then? 

He’ll bring Agatha for backup this time, she can sneak through a crowd with ease if it comes to that. The castle is large so there will be plenty of places to hide. By the time he’s finished the apple, he’s got a new plan and a new sense of determination. 

Cadmus throws the apple core into the trees, enjoying the resounding thump it makes as it hits a tree trunk. “Come along Agatha, we have a job to do.” 

Agatha slithers in front of him as he treks through the woods again, this time hidden by the cover of twilight. As they approach the castle, he presses a hand to the top of Agatha’s head and casts a simple illusion charm to hide her from sight. It won’t hold up under scrutiny, but it's better than just hoping people won't notice an incredibly large snake wandering through the castle.

Though, Cadmus has learned by now that most people only see what they want to see. It makes his job much easier.

Cadmus stops briefly when he reaches the low stone wall where he’d last seen the princess. Agatha hisses at him as if to urge him on and he shakes his head to refocus. He climbs over the wall, keeping a closer eye out this time for guests or guards. 

Climbing up the ivy wall to the princess’ room is almost too easy. He reaches the top in under a minute, just as he’d calculated, and finds the window cracked open. It’s perhaps too convenient, and if he wasn’t so pleased at himself for the quick climbing he’d just done, he might have suspected a trap. But no ambush comes, the room is well lit with candles and nobody is in sight. 

The bedroom is wall to wall pink, covered in a bright fuschia damask that almost hurts his eyes. This is clearly the princess’ room. Melia’s room, the voice in the back of his head supplies. Cadmus scoffs and crouches down so he won’t be seen from the window as he searches the room. As he’d suspected, the princess isn’t here, nor are any of her servants. 

His original plan had been to hide in her room until the birthday feast is over, to wait until she's asleep so he can kill her with less struggle. But as he looks around the room for a place to hide he feels an increasing sense of dread. The longer he waits, the louder the little voice in the back of his head gets, telling him he should leave now while he still can. 

Cadmus is quite good at ignoring that little voice. He runs through the uses of various poisons in his head to distract himself. Hemlock, arsenic, cyanide- but he quickly tires of that and decides to speed things along. No sense waiting for the princess, he’ll go to her. 

He opens the bedroom door slowly and Agatha slithers out first, scouting ahead. He opens it just wide enough to squeeze out and emerges into an empty hallway. Agatha has already reached the end, and he takes it as a sign that there are no guards hiding.

He continues to sneak along the corridor until he reaches the top of a stairwell. He’s pretty sure this is the back stairs that leads down to the kitchens, if Xiphos’ layout is correct. Though Cadmus can’t see any guards, he keeps his ears trained for any sound of approaching footsteps as he descends. He emerges into a landing with a hallway branching off in one direction and the stairs continuing to descend lower. He turns into the hallway, remembering something Xiphos had mentioned about a second story balcony surrounding the dining hall. 

Sure enough, he opens a door at the end of the hallway and is met with the smell of food and the sounds of a dinner party. There's music and the smell of roasted meat and Cadmus would love to join the party, but he's got bigger problems. 

The party below him goes on as Cadmus rounds the balcony, keeping his back pressed flat against the back wall to avoid being seen. He’s illusioned himself as well, but his magic will only go so far. As he looks down, he immediately spots the King and Queen of Greythal sitting on a raised throne platform. There’s a smaller, empty chair next to the Queen, presumably for the princess, Melia. 

Cadmus spots the princess then. She dances around the edge of the room in time to the music, the pink skirt of her dress twirling along with her. A little boy no older than four, and clearly her younger brother from the matching blonde hair, runs into sight. She picks him up and spins him, and the sound of the little boy’s giggles and the princess’ laughter reaches Cadmus’ well-trained ears. 

He needs to do this now, before that stupid, insipid, nagging voice in the back of his head tries to speak up again.

He reaches into the pack on his back and finds a small box. Opening its velvet lined case, he carefully pulls out a dart no bigger than the size of the fingernail on his pinky finger. It’s laced with Agatha’s venom, and he’s careful not to handle the sharp point. The dart is so tiny that it won’t easily be found. In his past experience the poison takes a few minutes to work, and by that point the tiny dart usually falls out as the target continues to walk around.

Agatha’s direct bite is much more potent, but he’d brought her along to scout not to attack. It would be too risky to send her down there alone, so a dart will have to do. Cadmus loads the dart into the hollow tube used to shoot it and aims. 

He only has one shot, he can’t miss or he’ll risk discovery, but his hands are steady and he knows his aim will be true. 

The princess moves out towards the corner of the room as she twirls and her little brother squeals in laughter and runs the opposite direction, leaving Cadmus with a clear shot. He raises his mouth to blow on the tube and shoot the dart. As if sensing his presence, the princess turns to face his direction and the smile on her face hits him in the gut. She doesn’t look directly at him, but all he can see is Daphne. 

Just shoot damn it!

But his hands are shaking now and his aim will be off. The princess spins away into the crowd and he’s missed his shot. No doubt he’ll get another chance soon enough, he can wait. Instead, Cadmus narrowly avoids dropping the dart gun in his haste to back away from the balcony’s edge. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth and part of his brain is shouting at him to just kill her already while another part is begging him to run.

He’s never been conflicted like this, not since the first mission he’d been on. He doesn’t think, he just does. But now he can’t seem to stop thinking and it’s giving him a headache.

Cadmus hasn’t cared much about the morality of his job, it was simply something he had to do. He gets rid of potential threats for the good of his family and his city. But Melia poses no threat to him. She’s a child. 

What the fuck is going on with you? 

Cadmus has no answer for himself. He can’t even bear to look down at the dining room in case he sees the princess again and- what? Kills her? Doesn't kill her? Cadmus doesn’t know which option is worse, so he chooses to go with his instincts instead.

For the second time that day, he runs. More accurately- he flees.

He hopes Agatha is following as he runs back the way he’d come. This time he isn’t so lucky. He rounds a corner and spots two guards with their backs turned to him, patrolling down the hallway he needs to use to exit. 

Cadmus sighs and reaches into his pack for another case of darts, these ones laced with a sleeping potion of his mother’s design. He could kill the guards of course, but that would raise too many questions. He easily loads the darts and shoots them off one after the other into the necks of the retreating guards. They immediately collapse in a heap on the floor, the larger one falling on top of the other one comically.

“Sweet dreams.” Cadmus steps over their bodies with a smirk, forgetting for a moment what he’s running from. He quickly recovers and makes his way up the flight of stairs back towards the princess’ room. The hallway looks clear, but right as he opens the door he sees a shadow out of the corner of his eye.

Cadmus whirls around, spotting Agatha slithering towards him at a fast pace. She hisses to alert him that more guards are on the way, and he quickly enters the room, trying to forget about the mysterious shadow he’d seen. As he’s climbing out of the window, he swears he hears a familiar laugh coming from the stones of the room itself. 

He climbs down the ivy and looks back up at the window one last time, catching the glimpse of a figure silhouetted in the light. He shakes his head to rid the silly thought from his head, Alastor isn’t here. He needs to focus, he needs to escape.

Cadmus isn’t paranoid, he’s cautious. He never gets frantic like this. But he feels as if someone is pursuing him through the dark woods. Whether it’s guards or someone else he couldn’t say, but he runs faster just in case.

When he reaches the clearing he’d left Alecto in, Cadmus hops on his horse without a word and holds his arm out for Agatha to coil around him. He rides down the path he’d scouted earlier in the day, his mind racing with questions.

What is he doing? Where is he even going?

Cadmus can’t go home, not after this messy show of cowardice. His father would kill him, or more likely he’d have Alastor do it. The only choice is to run somewhere he can’t be found. The path through the woods opens up into fields and soon enough, he’s riding by the cliffs on the edge of the sea. He follows the path down figuring that where there’s water, there must be a dock.

Sure enough, the path begins to decline and the dirt turns into a paved road. He can smell the salt of the sea and the stink of fish that always accompanies a harbor. There’s a boat docked in the distance, the only one in the harbor. It is the off season after all, and he counts himself lucky to have found any vessel to escape on.

The harbor is located in a small port town. As Cadmus passes through he can see a light up ahead and hears the sound of music coming out of a boisterous tavern. What he wouldn’t give for a drink right now to clear his head, but he can’t stop.

Every second he lingers is a second someone could be coming after him. The guards might wake up, the princess might tell someone about the mysterious stranger she’d seen. And Cadmus would rather not be caught, he doesn’t want to die. 

Not that anybody has ever cared about what he wants.

Cadmus can’t take Alecto with him on a boat, Agatha will be conspicuous enough. As he stops in an alleyway, he pats her head and reaches into his bag to get her an apple which she immediately devours. “I’m sorry, Alecto, but you can’t come with me.” 

He takes off his saddle bag and slides off of her back, hoping she’ll understand to go home without him. Alecto seems to comprehend what he’s saying and she bows her head in a nod. Cadmus hates to part with her, he’d much rather be in control of his own transportation, but he has no other choice. To ride further inland would be a death sentence, he needs to cross the sea.

Perhaps Alecto’s arrival without him will make his father think Cadmus has perished. That would be lucky, nobody would hunt him down if he’s already dead. Alecto runs off towards the woods and the path to Avronne.

Cadmus watches her leave, and Agatha coils around his shoulders and arms. She’s heavy, but the weight feels comforting and he’s glad to have her here with him. He sneaks out of the alleyway and towards the ship docked a few feet away. There’s nobody on the deck, the crew must be at the tavern enjoying a stop in the port. 

Cadmus makes his way onto the ship. It looks vaguely familiar, but then again he hasn’t been on many boats, they must all look similar. He hates travelling by boat. He’s loath to admit it, but he’s not a fan of small confined spaces. Especially those with no exit other than drowning in the sea. 

He has to relinquish control here, he can’t steer a boat and he needs to hide well or he’ll be fighting off an entire crew- which even he would struggle with. More likely he’d be thrown overboard, and the water is freezing this time of year. Death by sword or by drowning, neither sounds appealing so Cadmus decides to simply stop thinking about it. 

In the hold below deck he passes by hammocks and a closed door with a sign that says “Captain’s Quarters” on it. He heads to a dark corner hidden by barrels of dried food, figuring its the least conspicuous place to hide. He casts an illusion spell to further disguise him and Agatha, but he’s too exhausted from a day of running and casting magic that he knows it won’t do much to hide them. 

This is far from ideal, but If he can just make it across the sea and into a new port before he’s found he’ll be safe. He just needs time to make a new plan.

As the minutes pass, he begins to hear the sound of voices and footsteps drift down from the deck above. Cadmus is stuck here now and it’s hard not to feel like the wooden walls of the ship are pressing in on him. Every sway of the boat in the waves makes him want to run back to the solid ground of shore. But he’ll just have to bear it.

One of the voices gradually grows louder as someone approaches. “We’ve got plenty of provisions Maz!” the voice calls. Something about it is familiar, but though Cadmus racks his brain he can’t remember where he’s heard it before.

A brusque woman’s voice answers back. “Ilya! Come back up and bring me that crate!” 

The man’s footsteps stop a few feet away from Cadmus’ hiding spot, and he sees the edge of a boot in the gaps between barrels. The man laughs as he reaches for a wooden crate stacked on top of one of the barrels. It’s then that Cadmus realizes why the voice sounds familiar, he’d know that ridiculous laugh anywhere.

Ilya. Julian Devorak.

He should probably just throw himself overboard now, it would save everyone a lot of trouble. 

[queenjunoking]

Wolf Taming pt 39

CW: Noncon - Shock Collar - Pain - Petplay

Mimi

I knocked at the door and waited for a response. Miss Eos had decided to take a nap after her late night phone call and told me to wake her up once Callidora was about to reach her final mile. Jude had sent me an alert on my tablet and I hurried as fast as I was capable of to Miss Eos’s room to wake her.

After a few rounds of knocking I decided I needed to risk punishment and just enter the room. The punishment for failing to follow through on her orders would be much worse than the one I might get for entering her room without permission.

“Miss Eos?” I hobbled across the room and lightly touched her shoulder.

She sat up, took a deep breath, and glared at me. “Whatever happened to knocking, Mimi?”

“I-I I’m sorry, Miss Eos.” I tried my best to stay strong. Miss Eos always seemed to have a soft spot for me despite everything she did to me. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t afraid of her getting angry at me. “I tried knocking but you didn’t respond. You said to wake you when Callidora reached her last mile. I-I didn’t want you to miss it.”

She picked up her phone, probably to check the time. It was three in the morning. She was on her final mile in little over six hours. Not a marathon pace under normal circumstances, but given her circumstances it was fairly impressive. Most ponies tended to start collapsing early on and their shoes actively worked against them. I knew that feeling better than anyone, the only thing worse than the hoof boots were the ballet boots I was locked in.

She stood up, went behind a screen, and began to get changed into her formal riding gear. It was important to reinforce Callidora’s place. Miss Eos was a rider and Callidora was a pony. “Did she require the harness to finish her run?”

I scrolled through my tablet to check Jude’s logs. “Yes, Miss Eos. Though fairly late. Over 97 percent of our new ponies require the harness set up to keep them on their feet by the fifteenth mile. Callidora managed to make it to mile 22 before she collapsed the first time. It puts her in our racehorse category.”

“And Z was going to waste this potential by making her a puppy.” Miss Eos laughed as she came out from behind the changing screen.

“It seems especially impressive given the speed increase you ordered around mile sixteen. Even after the harness cables were attached to keep her up, Jude kept the treadmill going at three miles over the standard speed.” I stood at attention as Miss Eos passed me and went into the hallway. I tried my best to follow her, but even after all this time I couldn’t move fast enough to keep up with other people and soon lost sight of her.

I sighed and decided to do some of my maid duties. I wanted to see what was going to happen, but walking in late would just make things weird. I’d probably see Callidora doing training in the yard soon enough anyway.

Hopefully Callidora would put Miss Eos in a good mood. It had been awhile since we had a real winner and if Callidora played her cards right she would be cared for very well. Her own spacious stall, good food, and attention. The best ponies got a personal stablehand to take care of them. It was nicer than most slaves would ever get, myself included.

I couldn’t imagine anyone willingly jeopardizing such luxury.

Eos

I quietly walked into the barn, passing stablehands that stopped what they were doing to bow as I was passing. I couldn’t help but smile at the obedience on display. I was once told the idea of using slaves as stablehands was a bad idea. Giving slaves such an important job was a bad idea. They’d sabotage the operations. They’d try to escape or rebel if I let them congregate.

But I did it anyway and it allowed my operation to expand quickly. The stablehands were given an amount of freedom but more or less had a gun to their head. Any mistake or signs of rebellion were harshly punished. They could be replaced. If they acted out they would most likely find themselves in a worse position. I chose stablehands from slaves not fit to be ponies or cows which gave them limited alternative use. I usually sold them off to one of the families that made them into various useful objects. A combination of drugs and restraints could make anyone something as nice as an artful cup holder or as unfortunate as an urinal. Eitherway, I couldn’t imagine anyone being able to spend the rest of their life like that, it's why I suggested they behave during introductions.

I made my way to the exercise room and knocked on the door quietly before I walked in. The treadmills faced away from the door so Callidora couldn’t see me. I could see her though and it was quite the sight.

Her body glistened in sweat, the evidence of her long hard run. Her ass was still a bright red from being at the end of Jude’s crop the entire night. I could see her legs were shaking. The new pony’s legs always shook like newborn fawns when they were finished with their runs. None of them were ever prepared for a marathon like they had experienced.

I watched her stumble, but the cables attached to her harness from the ceiling caught her. I heard her make an angry noise when the cables went taut. I didn’t want the ponies to rely on the harnesses to keep them up, so when the cables became taut they got a shock so they’d get their weight off of them.

She was breathing hard, but I could still tell that there was determination in her. To prove she couldn’t be controlled she had to show she wasn’t weak. All that did was show us that she was a prize though. It was always amusing to see a slave play right into your hands.

Jude looked up at me and was about to greet me, but I held a finger to my lips. She nodded and turned back to Callidora. I approached her as well, standing to the side of the treadmill. Her blinders didn’t allow her to see me, but she knew someone was standing next to her. She tried to turn her head to look at me and Jude corrected her with a swap from the crop. Ponies needed to keep their minds on the task at hand, not distractions. The blinders were there to help with this, not to make her look around.

Callidora grumbled unhappily from the swat, but kept looking forward. She stumbled one more time and got another shock before she made it to the end. The treadmill slowed to a stop and her legs were shaking non-stop.

“Jude, disconnect the current so Callidora can use the harness to take weight off her legs.” Jude walked to the other end of the room and pushed a few buttons before giving me a thumbs up. “You can rest now, Callidora.”

The mare ignored me and continued to try and stay on her feet. I grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at me. “Hello Callidora. My name is Mistress Eos. I am your new owner. You know longer have to worry about Z and her incompetence. You just completed your first marathon and I am extremely impressed. You’re going to do well here.”

Callidora tried to say something through the gag. She seemed unable to stop running her mouth even when she couldn’t use it. I undid some of the pieces of her tack, allowing for the bit to be removed while leaving the rest of the headpiece on.

“B…” Callidora was breathing hard and stretching out her jaw. Her voice failed her on whatever she was trying to say.

“I’m letting you talk right now. It’s a small gift. Think wisely about what you want to tell me.” I smiled and stroked her hair. It was a nice length, but I was going to want it longer for a much nicer ponytail.

“Bitch.” She spat the word at me, anger in her eyes.

“Adorable.” I grabbed the crop and hit her leg with it. She crumpled, if it wasn’t for the cables she’d have collapsed on the floor. “I’m sure you think you’re very strong. I know you think you can take anything we can dish out after spending time with Z. As much as I hate to admit it, she was very talented at breaking things like you.”

“Is she now?” She spoke between breaths. “She didn’t seem very talented at much aside from pushing a button on a shock collar.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I like that fiery spirit of yours, Callidora. I think we’d get along very well if you just let yourself enjoy your time here.”

“I think you should go fuck yourself.” She spat the words out again.

“Oh Callidora.” I stroked her hair again as I spoke. “You’re never going to escape from here. You are a slave in the Society. An organization like ours doesn’t stay around for hundreds of years because slaves escape. Z wanted you for a pet. It’s a waste of your talents. You’re a runner. You want challenges. This is the perfect position for you. Tonight was harsh, but its trial by fire. Your daily routines will be easier than this.”

“And if I refuse?”

I couldn’t help but smile at that question. I walked away from Callidora and approached Jude. “Have Callidora taken to one of the bigger stalls. Give her the full works, muscle massage, bath, food and water. Let her get a few hours of sleep.”

“Of course, Miss Eos.” Jude nodded and left the room to go get some more stablehands to assist in transporting Callidora.

I took another look at her just hanging from the ceiling over the treadmill. “You’ll get to see some of the nicer things you’ll get to experience if you work with me. The treatment the best of our racehorses get. Later this afternoon you’ll get to go on a tour of the grounds. You’ll learn then what might happen to you if you refuse. It’s only fair I give you all the information available before you make a decision you’ll regret.”

[themagicalmysticalboy]

Hi. Can I request hurt!John story? I thought it could be based on his car accident in 1969 but let's change some details of it - he was driving alone and ended up seriously injured. You can begin with Paul and the others arriving to the hospital after receiving the news... or whatever you choose 😉. So angsty story with some mclennon (but not necessarily; they can be just friends).

a/n: the thought of writing yoko has kept me from ever writing this request. But imma write it and pretend she doesn’t exist 😜. also I have no self control so this story goes through a lot more than just Paul showing up at the hospital hehehe

Nobody has to guess that baby can't be blessed/‘Til he finally sees that he's like all the rest/ With his fog, his amphetamine, and his pearls

He Breaks Just Like a Little Boy

John had thought himself rather fond of Scotland. He had visited many times before for pleasant vacations and stops to meet family. But in all these years and through all his visits he had never actually driven its roads, having the luxury of a driver. On his solo trip, he remembered exactly why his arrangements were as such.

The sky was dripping with fog that crept down from the foothills, reaching out with thick claws that effortlessly encapsulated the road. The small apertures between the paws of fog were filled with mist that left sheens of dew across the windshield. With his wipers going at a steady metronome's pace he flipped between high and low beams, unsure which way was worse. Mimi had surely told him the correct answer but his nerves and general troubles with driving had him dumbfounded. 

The road ahead appeared completely deserted so he had no concerns with continuing to flip back and forth. The distraction of the lights left room for error in the ways of speed. He was pushing 20 over the determined limit. In these conditions the absence of a speedometer, or in the event of ignoring one, it was impossible to determine how fast the world outside was passing by. John kept at his pace, even when he had settled to keep his lights on low beams.

In his vain attempt to see more than two meters ahead, he hunched forward with squinting eyes and tense muscles. Music was playing at an almost unperceivable volume, turned down multiple times over the course of the descent into fog.

Entering another aperture of mist, he relaxed, letting himself blink properly and his fingers release from their bleached white grip on the steering wheel. Once his eyes had opened again, a set of disembodied lights sent him rigid. His senses were set on blast: eyes wide open and bursting with color, the taste of copper coating his mouth, the smell of his leather interior and cigarettes somehow amplified. The intense sensations did nothing to harbor a coherent plan.

He reacted on gut instinct as the lights were backed by the shape of a car. Horn blaring, he jerked the wheel to the side. It was almost instantaneous that his stomach jumped to his throat, body leaving the seat to press harshly into the seatbelt. He was a feather made of lead.

**

In the late hours of the morning, Paul finished readying himself for a trip into town. He grabbed up his keys and wallet and made for the door. Before his escape could be made, the phone rang. He lowered his lids and shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to decide if he should answer it. With a resigned roll of the eyes, he jogged to the phone. 

The words that came through the line left no room for pleasantries, throwing blades that sliced through his reality and let it drain from around him. Pressure built against his skin with each sentence, heart pounding through his limbs.

His voice was void of emotion when he asked, “Have you told the others?”

“You’re the first I’ve called,” Cynthia replied. Cynthia. That's who was talking. Paul had not even processed her voice.

“Okay.”

He hung up, one arm left limp at his side as he gnawled at his fingernail. The world was not coming back to him. It had bled out and left him stranded, unable to move or react. Echoes of what Cynthia had said reverberated off the walls and assaulted his ears.

“... an accident… He’s in surgery… They don’t know if…if…”

Everything ushered back into color like a punch to the gut, leaving him stumbling into actuality. He fell into a chair and caught his breath.

 He had to get to him. He had to leave.

Rushing back to the phone, he threw together the fastest trip to Durness humanly possible. The trip, though only an hour and change by plane, was excruciating. Void of distraction, or want of, Paul was shedding strings of sanity like a dog’s winter coat. Nothing was fast enough until it suddenly was all too quick.

Once in the last leg of his journey, a small taxi cab, he began to dread the thought of arriving. Though still a few miles away, the antiseptic smell of the hospital was already pungent in his nose. The cramped waiting spaces and grim reality would tug and drag on his psyche. 

And he was not proven wrong. He had arrived first but it wasn’t long before George and Ringo filed in. They all shared anxious glances upon entering the private room they were ushered to but didn’t speak a word.

George ended up slumped in a seat, head in hands, as Paul stood and tapped his foot, his mind still shifting in and out of focus. It was Ritchie that had broken the eerie stillness. He was biting down hard on his lip, pacing the room. As if he had just realized the other two existed, he jumped when his path crossed Paul’s.

Paul’s eyes were dead in their sockets but Ritch’s pinged over his face with something desperate that made Paul want to conjure a sort of reassurance. He fell severely short, only able to muster a thin lipped hint of empathy.

George came in for the save. Paul, too engrossed in his own turmoil, barely noticed him getting up and moving towards them. He took Ringo into a tight hug that was warmly reciprocated. They both breathed in one another before breaking. He patted Rich on the shoulder then turned to Paul.

He hadn’t the heart to tell his friend he’d rather be left alone and was consequently enveloped into his arms. And maybe it was for the best he had not stopped him. Something calming and familiar shallowed a hole in his heart. George’s ever-comforting presence should never be put to question. He hugged George back with a grim intensity that surprised himself. It cracked a dam but did not break it.

“Don’t lose hope.” With that the hug was broken, leaving Paul with a warm heart and cold body.

In time, they all sat together on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, backs to the wall. Coffee cups and ashtrays were all around. The TV that sent extra illumination to the room was widely ignored, set at a low volume. At some point, a doctor had come in to update them. John was under close watch but out of surgery. It hadn’t done much to put anyone at ease but it drove in the hope George was keen to stoke. 

So they kept at their quiet conversations and heavy silences. The atmosphere was so odd. No one was bringing up the band dissolving. No one was arguing. Instead, a rather blissful suffering blanketed the room. At an excruciating crawl, night was arriving, the sky drifting from blue to inky black. 

Everyone was growing tired from their adrenaline crash, staring at nothing with half lidded eyes. Ringo had taken the plunge and was asleep on Paul’s shoulder. Paul’s arm was wrapped around George and George was slumped back to stare at the ceiling.

With a steady knock at the door, they were startled back to life. As the doctor came in, the three rose to their feet with varying speed.

“Good evening-”

“He’s alright, yeah? Can we see him?”

“We’ll get there, Mr. Harrison.” The doctor collected himself and looked over a messy chart. “Mr. Lennon is recovering as expected. I can’t go into detail, seeing as you aren’t blood, but his injuries were less serious than we first thought.” He looked up at the trio. “He’s asking for visitors in the morning. Have you any idea of relatives arriving?”

“His aunt, at the very least. I’d assume his son and ex-wife as well,” Paul answered cordially.

“I’ll let him know, then. Now, if you wish, you may sleep here. Blankets and pillows can be gathered. But there is a hotel only a mile away.”

They looked between one another and came to a silent agreement. “We’ll stay.” The luxury of comfort would gladly be dispensed of.

Sleeping in the cold and bare room sent Paul back in time. He felt 18 again, sleeping in a backroom in Germany with George nearby and Ringo in the place of John. At least he’d been able to sleep easier then- full of beer and dead tired from performing. Now, it took a long time but sleep finally crept into his eyes.

Though Paul was the last to sleep, he was also the first to wake. He gathered coffee and fresh carts of cigarettes before George or Ringo so much as stretched. As he waited for them to wake, he watched the news. At the moment, the camera was pointed to frame an audience gathered with candles and signs. All with well wishes to John scribbled and painted across them. 

“Have we traveled back to ‘63?” Ringo’s voice was full of sleep as he pulled himself off the floor.

Paul was glad to learn he was not the only one feeling the blast from the past. With a nod of acknowledgment, he poured Ringo a cup of coffee from the side table. Leaning back in his seat, he handed him the cup. Ringo pulled a cigarette from his pocket before taking it and mumbled a “Ta.”

It wasn’t long before George woke as well, leaving them staring at the TV that switched between actual news and coverage of the crowd outside.

“Think John’s enjoying this?”

“Think? I know. Deserves the treat of it, anyroad.” Paul huffed.

“We’ll find him off his head with pain meds waving from the window if he’s left alone too long.”

“Flashing the crowd with the backless gown on his way to bed.”

Lifting their spirits with some senseless banter, the wait for their turn to see John was less dreadful. Any bittersweetness, though, drained from Paul’s being when it came time to actually see John. Much like the journey to the hospital, the tail end of his wait for John was coming all too quickly.

They were filed out of the small room and his heart was fading with every step. It did not want to leave the strange safety of the room and Paul could not blame it. It was set and done and nothing dangerous happened. Now he was ushered into a terribly galvanizing and risky endeavor of a fresh space and unknown circumstances. As the door came to view, his heart fast tracked to full opacity and shot into his throat.

George and Ringo looked so painfully normal in comparison to how Paul felt. Surely all they were thinking of was how happy they were to see John. Not how scary it might be to see him broken. Not how one word could fuck everything up. 

The desire to pivot on the spot and run was shamefully present when the doctor held the door for them. Paul was last in line and heard the cheery greeting from Ringo before so much as seeing the foot of the bed. 

His eyes darted down to stare at George’s heels as he entered the threshold, following their path until he found a seat. Paul meandered in, jumping when the door shut behind him. He stopped in his tracks. 

“Glad the guests could finally be bothered to gather. Now the party can really start.”

With the sound of John’s voice pulling at his chest, Paul finally looked up to find him staring directly at him. He was right there, covered in scratches and bandages. There was a cast on his arm, a bruise over his eye, and a large swath of gauze peeking from the neck of his gown. His face was blushed with color, nonetheless, looking as alive as ever. When he truly looked at John he found himself wanting to cry. Why? He couldn’t have explained it to anyone but he knew the feeling swirling inside. He bit down on the inside of his cheek and gave a thin lipped smile.

“Think you’ve done enough partying without us,” Ringo said while he sat at the only other seat in the room, leaning an elbow on the bed. A smile was splashed across his face.

George leaned back pleasantly. “This is why I never let you touch my car, you know.”

John huffed. “I don’t think I’ll be touching a steering wheel ever again.”

The words were all lost on Paul. He couldn’t stop staring into John’s eyes until he finally broke contact to speak with George. Feeling uneasy in the center of the room, Paul moved to the wall, looking John up and down until he’d memorized every cut and bruise. His fingers were filled with pulsing blood, the sensation gathering up his arms as the moments passed.

No one looked at him or asked him anything. He was just a fly on the wall, chewing on his nail. So there was no warning when George and Ringo stood up. Paul jolted back to reality and stood up straight, ready to follow them out.

“Can you stay?”

”Hmm?” Blinking wildly, Paul noticed John was speaking to him.

“We’ll be back in the prison cell,” Ringo quipped before shutting the door on them.

The urge to sob spiked again. He gulped down the lump in his throat and let out a shaky breath. “Hi.”

“I look that ghastly, do I?”

Paul stared at his awkwardly shuffling feet and offered a breathy laugh. “No.” His voice cracked with the single word and burning tears sent pins into his eyes. Something in the moment sent his dam crumbling down.

Alone with John, he found absolutely no reason to hold back. So he didn’t bother. Fully absorbed by his presents, he took long strides to the now empty seat, falling into it. Without losing John’s gaze, he gently took his hand, feeling the rough cuts as he rubbed circles over the back.

Tears tracked down his face. His lip quivered. His heart brimmed full like a tidal wave crashing to shore.

“Hi,” he said again, this time with a voice damp with dejection. He sniffled with a painful smile stretching the corners of his mouth, threatening to rip from the center. He reached out to brush John’s hair from his face with a shaking hand. “You scared me, y’know?”

John pulled his hand away and Paul could feel the tidal wave retreating. He sucked in an aching breath. Rejection.

It all came back, though, when John held the side of his face, losing his fingers in Paul’s hair. “I’m sorry.”

With a fickle laugh, Paul nuzzled his head closer to John’s hand. “Don’t apologize- not for that.”

John’s head tilted as he pet Paul’s hair. “‘Bout thought you didn’t want me any longer. Seeing me all banged up and bruised. And that stare of yours. That should be categorized as some sort of weapon.”

A soft cry, that was supposed to be a laugh, rose from his throat. He leaned forward, hovering over the seat, and gently kissed John’s chapped lips. John fully reciprocated, fingers gripping his hair ever so slightly.

When they parted, poignantly slow, Paul swung his legs into the seat so he could comfortably rest his head on John’s shoulder. “I don’t think I can ever stop wanting you.” His fingers ghosted circles over John’s heart. With a concerted effort, he tried to be as gentle as possible with his battered lover.

They sat in sweet silence as John burrowed his cheek into the top of Paul’s head.

“Really though, was it that scary? Seeing me like this? You didn’t even speak when the other lads were in.”

More tears were threatening to close Paul’s throat. He gripped John’s blanket. “I thought I was scared to see you. But I don’t think I was. I was scared of myself more, y’know?”

“Can’t say I do.”

Paul pulled the blanket up to his chin. “I was afraid of messing up. I just blanked when I saw you hurt like this. I’ve never- I just want to do... New things. New things are scary.”

John rubbed his shoulder blade, soothing him to loosen up on the blanket. “And look at us now! Crying like babies all over each other.” John’s had traveled down to Paul’s bicep. “Guess we were both scared.”

“God. This wasn’t even the scariest bit- not by far. Getting that damned phone call. Thought the world was falling out from underneath me.”

John was kneading at Paul’s skin. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I thought I was never going to see you again,” He confessed. “Soon as the car went off the ledge, I could only see you and Julian in my head.” His voice was gruff and strained, muffled by Paul’s hair.

“It feels unreal, almost. After all this. Both of us in this room. Both alive. Lennon and McCartney, the dream team- or whatever bullocks.”

Paul felt the rumble of laughter in John’s chest and more tears poured out of him. He glanced down and noticed he was soaking the thin fabric of the gown. He almost felt bad but suspected that John’s tears were dampening his hair. Fairtrade.

“Yeah. Whatever bullocks.”

They quieted for a brief moment before Paul adjusted himself to be closer to John. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No.” A kiss graced the top of his head. “Can’t feel much with these painkillers, really. Besides, my shoulder’s not my biggest issue.”

Paul hummed curiously. 

“Go this real groovy gash down my chest,” sarcasm dripped from his tongue as he coaxed Paul off his shoulder to pull up the neck of his gown. “Here.”

A trail of gauze led down his chest and to his stomach, which was completely wrapped with the stuff. Paul wiped away his tears and peered a little further down. His brow raised and the corner of his mouth twitched. “Aye. At least your willy made it out in full form.”

“Off it,” John dragged out the words like a warning, pressing the patterned fabric to his chest. “Horn dog.”

Paul only giggled, pressing his lips to John’s again. John sighed into it before guiding Paul’s head back to his shoulder, fingers running through his hair.

Betrayed by his own mind, Paul thought back to that meeting. I want a divorce. He pulled in a harsh breath. They had drifted that day, so far from one another. Building it back had been painstaking and soul crushing. “I’ll never let you lose me again.”

“Really, now?”

“Yes.” His tone was serious. “You’re not allowed. Whether or not we’re cross with each other, we won’t lose one another, alright?”

John hummed into his hair. “Sounds fine to me.”