#it ended up looking darker than I intended but it’s kind of cozy?

[devil-doll13]

I’m just a-givin’ the dog a bone

(Givin’ the dog a bone)

I have writer’s block rn so I made this lil moodboard of Max to compensate lol.

(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @goldrose-star, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better)

[blueprint-han]

midnight walk — bang chan.

— “I have to go back to the dorms, and so do you.” 

— “in which you and chan walk through a park during midnight to catch up on some much needed alone time, and you’re prominently reminded of how much you love him, and he does too.”

pairing: chan x (gn) reader 

word count: 3 k

genre: fluff, boyfriend au, idolverse au (though not very prominent throughout the fic)

⇥ warnings: none, very self indulgent making out but nothing sexual, just kissing. minimal dialogue, kissing in public even though there’s no people around, also this situation is just for fictional purposes okay, I am not encouraging any acts of pda that takes place here between idols or anyone (quite frankly i have no idea about it’s legality, but as I said, it’s fictional), it’s just for entertainment purposes. Please take it as such. Also this park is huge and Chan and Y/N walk pretty slowly, and they’re from different companies.

type: drabble.

⇥ disclaimer: This fic does not intend to represent the actions of the real Bang Chan in any way, shape of form, nor does it intend to represent JYPE. Events are pure fiction, please take them as such.

note — Something soft because I wanted to write. This idea was brought up in a convo between me and ella and it was originally for han but then I wrote it for chan because i need my comfort kpop boy right now. Also @meiiyue. I hope this is not shit but i have no idea haha. Please, please leave feedback. Not edited, please excuse grammatical errors and typos. I;m sorry is this is trash, I really haven’t written seriously in a while ;-;

The air over here is way too moist.

So much so that you can feel beads of sweat litter the top of your brow the moment it’s been five minutes since you’ve arrived. You suppose you can’t complain when you and Chan made up the plan to meet immediately after a heavy downpour — you loved the smell of rain and he wanted to see you — it was a win-win situation.

But where is he? 

You wipe your forehead with the back of your sleeve, clutching your umbrella tightly in one hand while simultaneously going through your phone with the other. Your surroundings are calm, quiet, peaceful, exactly what you need to delve into your own thoughts and relax from the actual week you’d gone through. You can feel the tension in your shoulders, very very slowly, seep away as a blanket of mental peace is wrapped around your shoulders. As nice as it feels to be alone in this quiet place, all you want right now, is to hold your boyfriend’s hand and revel in nature.

You make a “tsk” noise, brushing the hair stuck to your face before scrolling through your contacts. You’re about to click on the one that says “channieeee <3″ when you feel hands — warm hands, grab at your shoulders from behind, and you shriek at the sudden shock that overcomes you. Owing to it being very quiet in this park, you slam a hand over your mouth, turning around to see the only person you were waiting for this whole time, albeit not this way.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You frown, though a small smile does pull at your lips when your eyes meet his warm brown ones.

“I was letting you know of my presence?”

“By sneaking behind me and giving me a heart attack?”

“I was going to give you a back-hug—” Chan points out,  waking around the bench to sit down next to you, not needing to ask at all. “—but then you screamed and I had to revoke it.”

A part of you wishes that had happened — as terrifying as that encounter was, Chan gives  great hugs. One of a kind. It’s almost like every time his hands wrap around your waist or shoulders, every inch of stress, thoughts melt away, leaving you in a calm state of bliss. That’s what Chan’s hugs are — pure bliss and honestly, your escape.

You give yourself a second to analyze his sharp features. Soft eyes, delicate smile, the pale, soft skin on his cheek so inviting. In this place where you and Chan are together, all you want to do is crawl into his arms, let go of the barrier that surrounds you and just be... yourself. You want to cup his cheeks and kiss him, just like you do whenever you meet up in secret.

But there’s more secrecy and hiding involved in an idol’s life.

“Yeah, yeah.” You say, fixing your mask properly over your nose before standing from your place. “You know better than to revoke my hugs, Christopher.”

Chan chuckles in endearment. You only call him Christopher when you’re unsure of your own statement, and it’s evident in the way your words end like you’re questioning him. Chan’s waiting for the “...right?” that should be following soon, but, oh well. He knows himself that denying you isn’t something his heart would allow, especially not when you look at him like that. 

Eyes gleaming under the dim lights of the park at midnight, a soft, almost unseen smile that only he’s allowed to see adorning your lips, and soft, unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. You didn’t even have to tell him you missed him, or that you wished to be in his arms again, because the connection between the both of you was on a whole other level — he could read all your emotions, just from looking into your eyes.

“Can’t deny that, can I?” He says, getting up from his seat before smoothing his shirt, while you put your phone into your pouch and fix your coat. Then, his hands silently seek your own, lacing his fingers with your own as warmth spreads through your chest. His hand feels soft, even more so than the last time you met him. In a silent want to hold him close to you, you tighten your grip as you smile at him and he reflects it back.

You walk around the path slowly, each step lingering against the mossy ground for a good second before moving on to the other. It’s so, so calming. The cold, moist winds refreshingly cool against your skin now that you’re not sitting idle in one place, the darkness in the park oddly calming. There’s the slight chirping of insects that resounds through the space like gentle music, and eventually, you feel yourself relax as you take in your surroundings.

“So, how was your week?” You ask, feeling yourself blush when you silently lean your head against your shoulder whilst walking, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he snakes an arm around your waist, sending shivers up your spine when he gently smooths the fabric of your coat with his thumb.

“Stressful, honestly.” The both of you turn around the corner without second thought. You’ve done this so many times, it’s like your bodies are being pulled to the place you wish so hard to be in right now. You missed him. You missed him so, so much. You can see the stress lines on his forehead and the darkness around his eyes, almost sure that he isn’t getting enough sleep either. After a long pause where you take in his words, he murmurs silently. “Missed you during the shoot.”

“Awh darling,” You coo, pressing a soft kiss onto his shoulder, and even though he doesn’t feel it through his own coat, Chan can feel himself smile affectionately. Every tiny gesture you provide is just so... attracting. Comforting. Be it lacing your fingers through his hair and stroking gently to lull him into sleep or just a hand against his thigh, a soft whisper of an “I’m here” when his stress gets the best of him and he’s clinging desperately onto your shirt, fluttering of your lips all over his face the occasional time you wake up together, or just this — walking through a park at midnight because it’s hard to meet up when you’re both popular idols, hand in hand with almost no words spoken. Everything about you is just so... beautiful. “Did you eat and drink well this week?”

“I did. You wouldn’t stop texting me every day, remember?” Chan laughs, the kind that makes your heart flutter and do backflips.

“It’s very necessary. We both know you're total ass at taking breaks.”

“Hey!” Chan pouts, almost offended at your statement. “I’m trying, okay?” He then smiles, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the fruity scent of your shampoo. “Besides, I have an amazing girlfriend to remind me, am I right?”

“Yeah yeah.” You brush him off, feeling the light grow darker in a particular section of the path, and that’s when you know you’ve reached the place you’ve been walking towards. There’s a bench placed in this place too — it’s the perfect spot for hidden conversations and maybe, kisses, because the chicken wire is completely hidden by trees, making this spot invisible from the outside.

“There it is.” You point out and Chan follows in pursuit, dusting the seat off for you slightly. Once you’ve sat down, you feel your cheeks burn, because the events that take place once the both of you find this spot has been engrained in your mind at this point. They’re the kind that get you flustered every time you see Chan in the JYP building the next day.

The chirping of insects is so much more intense here, yet you don’t even hear it when Chan puts an arm on your shoulder, gently sweeping his thumb against the material of your overcoat, a soft smile taking over his lips as your eyes lock. 

A gush of wind then sweeps past you, the chill in the air higher over here than near the entrance. You lean into Chan and he gets the idea immediately, pulling his coat over the both of you as you snuggle into his shoulder. He’s warm, so warm, so cozy, all you want to do is melt into his embrace and stay. Stay locked in this position you’ve grown accustomed to and found yourself in many times, with the gentle murmur of wind and chirping resounding all around you, almost like you’re trapped in utopia. You want to stay right here, but unfortunately, time runs fast.

“It’s cold.” He comments, and you let the words settle into the air.

“You’re warm.”

At that, Chan feels his smile widen genuinely, his grip on your shoulders tightening just the slightest before he trails up to tangle his fingers with your hair. You feel yourself tense before melting further, lifting your head up to look into his eyes, and my gosh, you can see the whole galaxy in them. His eyes are more sparkly, more lustrous than the clear night sky that lies above him, though the combined visual is truly enough to take your breath away.

“Always for you.”

One second, you feel his hand gently hold your chin and tip your head up, and the next, he leans to press his lips to your own. A mixture of warmth, fuzziness and nervousness bubbles inside you, mostly because you’re suddenly aware of the fact that you’re in the park — pitch black with dim lighting, yes, but still a public space.

Well, blame it on you for telling your partner you wanted thrill in your life when you were on your first date. It wasn’t a regular occurrence when you and Chan had the idea of meeting up at the park every Saturday midnight, kissing each other at midnight in a park where the trees were barely covering the partitions. Quite frankly, you have no idea when this whole thing started, all you know is that it became quite a frequent occurrence to go home with your cheeks feeling warm and your thumbs fidding with the collar of your shirt.

Your hands stay frozen on your lap and your brain fills with white noise. His lips feel so, so soft against your own as you basically melt against him. You can feel your knees go weak even though you’re sitting down, and Chan’s hands immediately grip your arms as though to cage you from your surroundings. Being in his arms seems like a whole other world to you. They surround you like that warm whiff of air when you get back home after a cold day at work, lock you against his body and protect you against any negativity that may threaten to look your way. Being in his arms, you feel like you’re in a cage you never want to get out from. A cage in which you are complete, you are content, you are loved.

And so, you gently press your palm to his cheek, running his thumb against the high end of his cheekbone, humming when you feel the soft skin underneath. His lips linger against your own for two seconds before he pulls away, feeling your delicate touch against his cheek. Then, he slowly turns to brush his lips against your palm, leaving a soft kiss there, and my god, you feel like your heart is gonna beat out of your chest. It’s too much for you to handle, his gestures are too sweet, to loving for you to not turn into a flustered mess.

He leans in once again, and this time, you cup his cheeks, pulling him closer until your lips meet and move in a synchrony of pure bliss. The hum he lets out is your favorite kind of music, it always build up the want for you to hear more. It’s just a pure expression of love that the both of you share, erasing every memory of anything else except each other. You love him, he loves you. That is all, and that is enough.

You never really knew that the man who wore his heart on his sleeve would end up meaning so much to you, but now that he’s yours, you never want to let him go.

It seems very practiced, owing to the countless times you’ve done this before, yet making your heart flutter all the same when the words “I love you” leave his lips in a hushed whisper. Only you’re allowed to hear those words, that tone, that beaming smile that pulls at his lips when his eyes meet your own even in this darkness. Even in this darkness, he thinks you look absolutely stunning, and all he wants to do is tell you how much he loves you over and over again. Well, that’s love. And love is an amazing thing to experience, you can say for sure.

You let yourself smile into the kiss before leaving a quick peck and pulling away, feeling him do the same before opening his eyes and gazing at your features. You shyly look to the side, noticing the leaves that sway gently where the gentle wind hits them. 

Even though the atmosphere is cold, you feel fuzzy and warm when Chan giggles, sparing a quick look to his watch before intertwining your fingers with his.

“Come on, we have some time before leaving, we can play on the swings.”

Oh, he knows the child in you too well.

When you’re done swinging the swings and collecting some flowers that seem fresh, you circle the route of of the park and back to the entrance, it’s already one in the morning. Most — especially your group members — would argue that the both of you should’ve been sleeping by now, owing to your hectic schedule that leaves you weary by the end of the day. But you tell them sometimes, just to get that one hour to spend with your lover, you’re willing to make the sacrifice — and seeing the loving, misty glint in your eyes, they understand.

“So, I guess... I’ll see you tomorrow?” Chan says, and you kick the air gently before pulling your mask over your face. Seeing you, he does the same.

“Yeah, you’ll be in your studio, right? I can drop by.” 

“Yeah. So, um...” You and Chan can never seem to ever part ways once your quality time with each other comes to a halt, the both of you want to reach out and embrace, and never leave. You often wonder what lead to your silent life being plagued with the essence of love, but then you see Chan, and you smile when you realise the answer.

And so, as if trying to hold onto the moment, freeze time a bit, you turn to him and pull him into a hug. He immediately responds and wraps his arms around your shoulders, resting his head on your neck as you sway from side to side. The road is quiet with the occasional vehicle speeding past, but you pay no attention to it. All you feel is Chan’s welcoming arms, his familiar smell that clouds your senses and makes you feel relaxed than ever.

“I love you, so much.” You murmur, not even sure if he’s able to hear it, but he does. He always does.

“I love you too.”

At that, you try to pull away to look into his eyes one last time, but Chan doesn’t let you, pulling his arms tighter across you and holding you close.

You laugh. “Chan.”

“Yes?” He drags the word and smirks mischievously.

“I have to go back to the dorms, and so do you.” You remind. “It’s late.”

“Mmh, alright.” He says, straightening himself from the embrace but not quite letting go yet. “But give me one more kiss before you go.”

You raise an eyebrow before looking around. While the interior of the park does have trees and stuff to cover the walls, the entrance doesn’t, and that sparks some nervousness within you, though you aren’t exactly worried. You’ve gotten away with stuff like this before, when either of you gets clingy and wants that one last lingering moment before you go your separate ways.

You lean in slowly and he just stands there, waiting for you to kiss him with that smile that he just can’t contain when he looks at you. When you pull both your masks down and your lips meet, it’s only for one tiny peck. You then quickly pull away and pull your mask over your face again, and Chan, though giggling furiously at the way he can see you’ve gone a little warm at the action, does the same.

You then bid goodbye and walk your way back home, the warmth that lingers all over skin so, so soothing to your mind. It’s like someone took away all your worries, leaving you in a bubble of contentment. It’s almost surprising how in the grand scheme of things, one person could stumble into your way and completely take your breath away, all because of the word we call love. You’ve realised how love means so much to you after Chan entered your life, and you don’t seem to be changing that idea any time soon.

When you’re almost close to home, your phone dings with a message, with the sender id “channieeee <3″. Instantly, you click on the message.

channieeee <3: so channieeee <3: same time tomorrow?  channieeee <3: pls 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 pls pls pls pls-

A dizzy, pure smile captures your expression, and so, not wanting to delay your plans to meet your lover again, you reply.

y/n: same time tomorrow, then 🥺💞 love you <3

*:･ﾟ✧ find the other fics here !

[thiswasinevitableid]

88. I dropped my watch in an open grave, jumped in to get it, and while you were visiting your dead grandmother, you saw me climbing out of the grave (credit to @enchantedcass)

Indruck, sfw or nsfw, please!

Here it is! This is technically SFW, though there's some discussion of sex and a bit of steaminess at the end.

“Here, these are fresh.” Indrid sets the wildflowers on the small, stone marker, so covered with moss and worn with age that no one can read it. He only knows where to find her because he watched from the Barrens as she was put in the ground.

Temperance Leeds. His grandmother, the one who narrowly avoided accusations of witchcraft, the only human who ever set foot deep enough in the trees to bring him food, to drape blankets over his shaking shoulders. She never forgot him, and he shall return the favor as long as he lives.

There’s a thump of earth behind him and he whirls; it’s midnight in a graveyard, who could possibly be here? The ghosthunters usually wait for darker nights to come. In his periphery, a hand rises from an open grave.

Great, if the dead rise he’ll probably be blamed for that too.

“Fuck” A young man pulls himself from the grave, staring at his cell phone, “c’mon, please don’t be fuckin cracked.” Light illuminates his face and sighs, “thank fuckin christ.”

The light disappears and he blinks, eyes adjusting to the dark. Indrid, too caught up in working out why he’s in the ground, hasn’t bothered to hide as he should. The human notices.

“Uh. I. Uh. Dropped my phone checkin the time. I, uh, definitely wasn’t smokin in the off limits, uh, fuck, graveyard I, uh, I fuck, promise I’ll clean up my beer bottles I mean, uh, fuck.” He scratches the back of his neck, “please don’t call the cops?”

“Can you see me?” Indrid cocks his head.

“Yeah?”

“And you are worried about me alerting the police?”

“I mean, guess we’re both breakin the rules but I kinda figured you were staff here because of the clothes.” He gestures to the ensemble Indrid cobbled together from clothes lines.

Indrid stands, stretches his wings, flicks his tail and watches the human slowly notice the color of his eyes and the outline of his horns.

“Fuck. Look, man, whatever you are, I swear I won’t tell, I’m just tryin to keep busy, please, my folks are already worried about me-”

“I’m not going to harm you.” Lightning cracks through the sky, flashing his shadow across the frightened human, “I just wanted you to see me clearly.”

Rain patters on the leather of his wings. The man looks up at the sky, face seeming even younger as it fills with resignation. Indrid recognizes it’s source.

“You have nowhere to go, do you?”

“No. I, uh, decided I wanted to get outta town and never come back, made it as far as here before I ran outta money.”

Indrid offers his hand, watches the man’s face zero in on the claws, “You may spend the night with me, if you wish. My home is a ways into the woods, but it is dry and warm.”

“Okay.” The young man replies softly, letting Indrid help him up as the dirt turns to mud. Indrid shelters him as best he can with a wing until they reach the cottage. Indrid kneels by the fireplace, lumps kindling into a pile as the young man sets his backpack on a chair.

“Nice place. Gotta admit I was expectin somethin more dilapidated. On account of the whole, uh, y’know.” He gestures to Indrid’s horns and cloven feet.

“It was much like you expected, once upon a time. But a human named Arlo Thacker took pity on me and helped me build it with the aid of a few friends. There.” The fire flickers merrily, “that should keep us warm. You may--ah, what are you doing?”

The young man has removed his jacket and shirt, revealing what Indrid recognizes from human magazines as a sports bra. His hands are now on the fly of his jeans.

“You said I was supposed to, uh, spend the night with you?”

“Yes, in that you may sleep here to be safe from the weather and any who might wish you harm. Not so that you may keep me warm. So to speak.”

“You’re not gonna fuck me?”

Indrid flicks his tail, surprised, “You would offer yourself to me, looking like this?”

The man nods in a way that suggests he’s run a calculus in his head and decided Indrid’s desire was less abhorrent than some other option. Indrid crosses the small living room, bringing them face to face. He reaches out a hand, runs his claws through black hair until the human closes his eyes. Then his hand slides to cup his cheek, one nail tracing fond little shapes on the skin as the man sighs. Against his better judgement, he tilts his head down to nose the dark locks; smoke lingers there, just as alcohol hangs on his breath. He’s so warm, so willing and so very soft. Indrid wants nothing more than to undress him further, carry him to his cozy bedroom and discover what sounds come when he fits their bodies together.

“What’s your name?”

“Duck. It’s a nickname.”

“A charming one. But no, Duck, I will not take such advantage of you. I may be called a devil, but I do not believe in making one trade their body for basic kindness. Come along, the bedroom will allow you more privacy.”

“Thanks.” Duck sways, and Indrid senses a weariness he’s not certain a good nights rest will fix. Tomorrow he will be sure to be gone when Duck awakens, leaving his dry clothes and a map back to town outside his door so that he can do what Indrid can dare to; leave the Barrens and find a life waiting for him in the world beyond.

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

There are some days when Duck thinks his encounter in the woods was a dream. The hand-drawn map he keeps folded among his books tells him otherwise.

He’d come home after that night, made his peace with Kepler for a few years more, and often awoke from dreams where he was pushing through brush in pursuit of a strange shadow. He never cites these as a reason for his taking a job at a state forest in New Jersey that includes the Barrens.

Now, he’s decided to upgrade from his apartment to a house in the woods that’s been listed for over two years and is a goddamn steal because of that.

“As you can see, there’s another residence across the clearing; that’s why the company that built this lovely dwelling was able to do so. They intended to build a nice little community here.”

“The fact that ain’t happened got anythin to do with the reason I gotta stay the night before I make an offer?”

Ned’s smile falters, “Indeed, dear boy. I like you, so I’ll be forthcoming; we’ve never seen anyone in the other house. But they have most certainly seen us.”

Duck settles in for an uneventful afternoon and evening, reads his book and considers whether he could fit some windowboxes on the house for garden space. It’s not until it’s pitch black outside that it starts; footsteps on the roof, followed shortly by red eyes peering in through the living room window.

He opens the front door, the undergrowth rustling hurriedly to his left.

“Uh, hey there. You may not remember me but, uh, we’ve actually met before. About ten years ago. You uh, you let me stay the night?”

Only some crickets, unaware of the tension in the air, reply to him. Then the bushes grow two, ruby red flowers.

“Duck?”

“Yep. Y’know, you never told me your name. If we’re gonna be neighbors, feels like I oughta know what to call you.”

A shadow moves from the trees, stopping when it reaches the light spilling from the windows. He’s as Duck remembers him; short horns sprouting from a mop of silver hair, claws on his fingers and black wings folded on his back. His skin is a swirl of ashy grey and ember red. And his face, while striking, is human. That was the part that always tripped Duck up; the Jersey Devil was always drawn with a goat or horse face, making him question whether that’s who he met all those years ago.

“Indrid. My name is Indrid.”

“Nice to see you again, Indrid.”

The other man smiles, and Duck knows what will replace the mad hunt through the brush in his dreams, “Likewise.”

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

“You know, she had three more children after me. None of them suffered the same curse.” Indrid kicks idly at the long decayed remains of his family home. Their nightly walk brough them close to it this time around, and Duck had been curious. His interest is never prurient or morbid; Duck wants to get to know Indrid, not his legend.

“That fuckin sucks.”

Indrid chuckles, “I do enjoy how you put things so plainly.”

“I’m serious, what kind of folks put their kid out when it’s a baby? I mean, mine weren't always the fuckin parents of the year but at least they understood lookin after me was part of the deal.”

“It was a different time.”

“Fine, but I’m still judgin the hell outta them.”

Indrid looks fondly down at the human, “That’s as fair a fate for them as any.”

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

“It don’t weird you out?” Juno indicates Indrid’s house from where she and Duck are sitting on his front porch. The twin Adirondack chairs are a new addition, as the warmer months mean he and Indrid spend ample time trying to see the stars through the treetops.

“Nah. Indrid’s a real good neighbor when he’s around. He’s uh, from an old family so he don’t gotta work. Part of why he keeps such weird hours.” Duck wishes he could introduce them; it’d be nice for the three of them to have dinner before Juno heads south again. But Indrid has several centuries of shitty human encounters that dig under his skin like splinters, and Duck will never push him to ignore that pain. Besides, there will be other visits.

The summer and fall pass in much the same ways last winter and spring did. Duck works in the park, visits friends in town, runs errands, and generally goes about all the mundane moments that make up a life. Then he spends his evenings in one of the two cottages, or walking alongside Indrid on long-overgrown pathways.

The hardest part of it all is not mentioning Indrid in every single conversation; Duck is already tempting disaster being unable to lie and the neighbor of a cryptid. He doesn’t want to also drive his friends up the wall talking about said cryptids art, or his laugh, or the little herb garden Duck is helping him grow.

They’re in the stretch of days between Christmas and New Year, and Indrid has just finished opening the gift Duck brought him; a thick, soft sweater that Duck stitched a “I” into the front of along with a few little pine tree patches. Indrid smiles at him and notices that Duck’s sweater is done in a similar fashion (in fact, everyone in the Newton family wears one like this). The grin turns bashful and Indrid rubs his cheek against the fabric.

“Thank you, Duck. I, ah, I’m sorry I do not have anything to give you. Holidays are not my strong suit.”

“Just gettin to see you is enough.” Duck stands to refill his tea, Indrid’s gaze caressing his back as he moves through the room. He almost hadn’t gone home, had offered to stay and keep Indrid company. But his friend insisted, reminding him that while it felt odd to be without each other, they both had spent plenty of time apart and been fine. All the same, when he got home yesterday Indrid was knocking on his door before he even put his bag down.

Duck didn’t mind at all. No more than he minds when Indrid sleeps with his head in his lap or strokes his hair while they read on the couch.

The cryptid stokes the fire as the snow gives way to sleet, streaking the windows with icy drops.

“Goodness, what a frigid night.”

“No kiddin.” Duck sets his mug down, turns just as Indrid gets to his feet, “can’t say I mind, kinda reminds me of the night we met.”

The colors of Indrid’s skin make a blush difficult to spot, but Duck’s learned which dip of his head and quirk of his lip means it’s there.

“‘Drid? Did you ever think about that night? Because I did. I, uh, I do.”

“Yes.” Indrid’s tail twitches.

“What do you think about?”

“I, ah, I...you first.”

Duck crosses the creaking floorboards, looking up into red eyes, “I think about how safe it felt when you brought me here. How when I woke up, I felt like this was some kinda weird sign, that I needed to rethink some things and that’s how come I went home, which turned out to be a good call. And” he smirks, “I think about how I was drunk and desperate enough to ask the fuckin Jersey Devil if he was gonna fuck me.”

Indrid blushes once more, studies the ground as Duck touches his shoulder, “I must say that is the part that dominated most of my thoughts. Not right away; for the first few weeks when I thought of you I only hoped you were alright. Then I would let myself imagine that I had been devilish indeed.”

Gently, Duck raises Indrid’s hand and cradles his cheek with it as they did that night, “What would you have done, devil of mine?”

A snicker, “I will answer that only if you tell me whether you are angling for the demonstration that I think you are.”

“Damn right.” He closes his eyes, heart swelling and skin prickling as Indrid steps closer and nuzzles the top of his head.

“I would have asked if you were tired of running. If you wanted a home. And would you like to make it here, so that we could keep each other company. I know in my heart this would have been a selfish offer. I am glad I did not make it, did not trap you here, resign you to a fate that was not what you would have chosen freely.”

“I’m pretty fuckin free these days.”

“And that all on it’s own fills me with joy. But yes, there were nights where I wished I’d been selfish.”

Duck tips his head up, brushing their noses together, “Say you made that offer and I accepted. What then?”

Indrid cups his face with both hands. The kiss is chaste, Indrid sighing against his lips as he twines his claws in his hair. Duck wraps his arms around his waist, lightly teasing the edge of one wing.

“Then” Indrid murmurs, “I’d carry you to bed.”

“Yeah, that part woulda been easier when I was seventeEEN” he laughs as Indrid scoops him into a bridal carry with ease. He’s never been in Indrid’s bed, so he giggles again when he discovers it’s ten times squishier than his own. The cryptid sinks onto it with him, guiding him so they’re face to face on their sides.

“May I undress you?”

“Knock yourself out, darlin.” Affection deep and warm as a thermal spring wells up in him as Indrid carefully removes his sweater and shirt before dainty setting his claws to work on his fly. When Duck is down to his boxers, hunger enters Indrid’s eyes for the first time.

“Oh you are divine.” One hand strokes his leg, pausing at the crease of his thigh each time it reaches there. The other curves along his belly up to his chest before caressing his face, the black claws making his skin seem oddly pale and very fragile in comparison.

Duck touches the hem of Indrid’s shirt and the cryptid freezes.

“‘Drid? Is this okay?”

“Do you...truly wish to see me unclothed?”

Duck surges forward to kiss him as he rucks up his shirt, the movement a sufficient answer for Indrid to raise his arms and let him pull the sweater and battered shirt beneath it away. His skin here is the same swirl of colors as the rest of him, but there’s a dusting of peach fuzz fur across it. It’s delightful under Duck’s tongue, though the little keen of pleasure from Indrid is even better.

“It’s strange” Indrid traces hearts and zig-zags with his claws along Duck’s sides as the human continues kissing his chest and neck, “I thought that seeing you like this would so overwhelm me with need that I’d beg to have you this instant. But it seems I feel much the same way I did in my fantasies of that night.”

“Oh” Duck reaches up to toy with the base of a horn and Indrid groans happily before continuing.

“Had you stayed, knowing you were now mine, I’d have taken my time. Nestled you under the blankets, opened you up on my tongue until you were weak from pleasure. That way it would be easy to take you when I was ready. Perhaps on your back, so you had me to hold onto if you needed. Or on your belly, so you would be even more sheltered from the cold, cruel world by my body and wings. And I’d stay there for hours, make up for decade after decade of touch starvation by glutting myself on your young, willing body.”

“Holy fuck, ‘Drid.” Duck pulls him down into a kiss, “christ that’s a fuckin good image.”

“Mmmm” the cryptid licks his cheek, “it is, isn’t it. But since you are not going anywhere, and we are not limited by the confines of my imagination, I am even less inclined to rush. Will you indulge me with just kisse tonight?”

Duck brushes silver hair from his forehead, planting a kiss there when he’s done, “Of course.”

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

The morning brings several feet of snow and announcement that those who can stay in their homes and shelter from the ongoing storm should. The pines drop heaps of white across the ground, and frost makes the windows so icy it’s better to draw the curtains and stay curled up in the dark.

Duck doesn’t mind at all.

[percimmonhellyeah]

A New Friend - Logince Vore

Roman, the ruler of a noble elf kingdom, is injured, though a certain human is curious enough to take him back to their lab and help him.

Ship: Pred!Logan x Prey!Elf!Roman

Word Count: 3.1k

a/n: This was a request from @indecisive-loser on tumblr! He made this beautiful drawing of one of my other fics here and thought I’d make something back!

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

A cool summer’s breeze passed by, making the tree’s leaves rustle in the distance and the tall grass sway. There Logan stood in the grassy field and watched as the sun sunk down behind the earth. He sighed, trying to enjoy the moment before he headed back to his lab. He’d been studying the plant-life and wildlife around this field as he heard there was potentially a new species of frog or snake around the area. Discovering a new species would be one of his greatest achievements, of course if he actually found one. He’d been looking for one of these new snakes or frogs but he’s yet to see one. It was a bit discouraging, as he’d been looking in these fields for nearly a year now, but at least the place had plenty of other wildlife to study.

Logan looked over to his lab that hid among the trees in the distance, smiling at it. Another wind blew by, making the grass sway even more and brush at his sides. He took a deep breath in, taking that as his queue to leave the field and go back to his cozy lab, well as cozy as a lab can get. A yawn escaped his mouth as he walked across the field, letting his hands touch the tall grass. He’d been outside since six in the morning now that he thought about it. He glanced down at his wristwatch, checking the time. It was just about to become eight. He hummed realizing he’d been out the entire day, though it was a bit obvious with the tired look on his face. The air started to grow just a bit colder, waking him up a bit more. Soon, he was just at the edge of the forest, and he saw the small dirt pathway that led to his lab. To be honest, he kind of lived there since he spent so much time in it. It was his pride and passion to go there everyday to study the wildlife. Another yawn escaped his mouth as he looked over to the forest. He wanted to venture into the forest today, but something told him not to, at least until now.

As strange as it was for Logan to think this, he did feel some kind of presence nudging him to go deeper into the forest. He glanced over to the sky. The sun hadn’t fully set, and it would still be at least a bit sunny for another hour. Plus, he had a flashlight and a map of the place in case he was to get lost. A warmth flooded in him as he stepped into the forest, looking around. There wasn’t much to see at this time of night, at least from what he’s gathered looking around here countless times now. That was, until a small group of fireflies danced around a particular spot near a tree. The base of the tree had tall grass hiding it. He blinked at the unusual site. The grass was much taller than all the other grass surrounding it, and what was with the fireflies all gathering here? He glanced around again, seeing no other fireflies glowing anywhere else in the forest. With a slow step, he walked over to the tree and kneeled down. His hands reached over to the tall grass, pushing it aside. As soon as all the grass was out of his way, his eyes widened, and his mouth went ajar. It was an elf.

Logan never believed in the fae or magical creatures, but with what was in front of him, it was clear as day that they existed. The light from the fireflies illuminated the tiny elf. As he looked closer, he saw their pointy ears and beautiful brown hair. They wore a white shirt adorned with gold that was slightly ripped and had a small red sash across their body. Their pants were also ripped and worn down. What happened here? He got on his stomach, looking even closer, the fireflies now glowing brighter, and that’s when he saw it. Their back had a massive wound that was covered by the sash. Thankfully, it looked like most of the bleeding had stopped, but they were certainly in critical condition. If he left them out here, who knew what would come hurt them next.

Logan frowned at the site as he dug through one of his pockets. He soon pulled out a small clean rag, and, with a careful hand, he scooped up the tiny elf and stood up. He held them close to his chest and even through the rag, he could feel how cold they were. The sun was soon disappearing from the sky, the field and forest becoming darker and darker. A wind blew past him, making him shiver at the cold. He held the elf closer, trying to block as much of the wind as possible from their tiny frail body. The white light from the lab illuminated the path, making him smile. At least he knew he couldn’t get lost. Once he reached his lab, he entered and went over to his desk, ready to help the elf.

✰✰✰✰✰

Warmth. It was warm when Roman woke up. His eyes fluttered open, and his head spun as he tried to get up. Where was he again? He was out on his daily walk through the forest then he blacked out. His thoughts scrambled to find out what happened until something caught his attention. Something soft and tight was wrapped around his body. He touched his back, his memories becoming clearer as he woke up. Soon, a softness brushed at his leg. Slowly, he sat up, looking down on the fabric he was sitting on. He blinked. Didn’t he pass out on the grass? Finally, he looked up seeing the bars of the small cage he was in and a human right next to it, tinkering with some liquids. His body shook for a second until he took in a deep breath. He had to admit, it was a scary sight to be so close to a human, but he needed to get back to his kingdom soon before everyone thought he was dead!

“Hey!” Roman yelled as he stood up, “Release me, you terrible beast!”

All of a sudden, the ground shook as the human turned to face him. He gulped as he stared right into their eyes.

“Oh, you’re awake,” they started, “Is your wound healing?”

He blinked, startled that they’d even ask such a thing. Humans were monsters! He took another look around. The room was filled with beakers and all types of glass tools. In the distance, there were some mice and other creatures locked in a cage. All of a sudden, his heart sunk as he looked back at the human that seemed to tower above him. He saw their white coat they had on over their black shirt and blue tie. They were a scientist.

“I said release me you beast!” Roman yelled again, trying to sound tough.

“Alright then, though you don’t need to yell.”

Roman backed away from the bars of the cage as the human opened the door. He dashed as soon as it was open until the human’s hand just stayed there, their palm open. He backed away again, wary. He didn’t want to get hurt once more, especially in the hands of a beast.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the human said, “I’d just like a closer look.”

He looked back at the hand then at the floor, contemplating. Humans were nothing but monsters! Though, if they really intended to hurt him, they could’ve done it when they first found him. He was already unconscious at the time, so it would’ve been the perfect opportunity to kill him! Yet here he was with his back wrapped up and wound cleaned. He looked back up to the hand, making a decision. A deep breath entered his tiny lungs as he stepped closer to the opening of the cage. He shook a bit though soon calmed himself down as they stepped on to the human’s warm enormous hand. As careful as he could, he walked over their fingers and soon sat in the palm of their hands.

Roman grabbed onto one of their giant fingers as they moved their hands closer to their face. Their eyes scanned over his tiny form, making him back up, and eyed them back with suspicion.

“What’s your name? My name is Logan”

Roman blinked, certainly not expecting a human to ask for his name.

“I’m Prince Roman, and I demand to leave! My people need me, or my kingdom will crumble into chaos!”

“You’re royalty? How fascinating…” they said, “How about a deal? I’ll let you go by morning if I can research you.”

Roman put a hand on his chin as his mind swirled with all types of ideas. Should he trust Logan? Should he try to escape? All of a sudden, he started to shiver just a bit from the cold. Even with the warm palms underneath him, it wasn’t enough to warm him up in this big lab he was in. He squeaked when the hands soon cupped him in a bit more. A glance at Logan made his decision clear. As cold as their face was, there was just a hint of genuine concern. He looked back up again, taking in a deep breath.

“Alright, I’ll let you research me if it means I’m protecting my people from you.”

“I don’t intend to hurt you if that’s what you are saying… I was only going to ask questions about your species. Also, what exactly are you?”

From there, Roman ranted on about how marvelous elves were. They were practically humans, though much smaller. He yapped on about his kingdom and of course himself for hours on end, only stopping when Logan asked a specific question. As he continued to talk and talk, his tiny stomach grumbled. He blinked, realizing he hadn’t eaten anything that day. He looked up and he swore there was a faint smile painting Logan’s face.

“Are you hungry? I have some food,” Logan asked.

“Only a bit. I don’t think I’ve ever had human food before.”

Something in Logan suddenly made them smile more and almost look giddier. Their powerful hands brought Roman closer to their chest as they walked over to a cabinet. Soon, they opened it, revealing jars upon jars of some kind of red substance. A small loaf of bread, at least that’s what he thought it was called, laid on the bottom shelf. Logan grabbed the loaf of bread and a jar out of the cabinet, now sitting at a table nearby. He looked at the jar’s contents, never having seen something like it before.

“It’s called jam.”

Roman blinked as Logan spoke. Soon, their hand laid flat on the table, him now taking the hint and climbing off. He hugged himself. It was still a bit cold in the lab, but he’d certainly been in much colder weather. He must’ve been in Logan’s hands too long and got used to their warmth. A clank rang in his ears when Logan opened the jar of jam and spread it on to a small piece of bread, which he assumed was for him. His feet shuffled backward as they handed the piece of bread to him. A deep breath entered his lungs, his legs a bit shaky, though he quickly calmed himself down. With some hesitance, he took the bread and the jam on top and took a small bite. His eyes widened, captured by the flavor.

“This taste marvelous!”

“I know! I’m not one for sweets, but this always puts a smile on my face,” Logan said as they took their own piece of bread and spread some jam on it. Soon, they took a bite, Roman watching as they ate. He looked back down at his own bread and scarfed it down. He didn’t realize just how hungry he was.

“Would you like more?”

Soon, Roman nodded, a big smile forming on his face. He warmed up to the human quite a bit even though they only met that night. Something told him they would keep their word and not hurt his kingdom. Logan took another piece of bread and spread some jam on to it. They put it on a tea plate and slid it over to him. Quickly, he ripped off a piece of bread and munched on it, loving the flavor, and feeling in his mouth. He caught a glimpse of Logan smiling as he continued to eat their jam covered bread.

As Roman kept eating, he felt a warmth on his back followed by a light now casting a shadow down on the table. He turned around to see light filling the window nearby and he soon yawned. Were they both really up the whole night? Another yawn escaped his mouth, covering it with a hand. The bread he ate didn’t help much as it only made him even more tired. All of a sudden, he heard Logan yawn, too. He’d guess they’d been up for quite a while, probably longer than him. He looked back out the window as he touched the cloth that wrapped around his wound. He needed to go back to his kingdom, but his eyes were starting to grow heavy, wanting at least a nap.

“Are you tired?”

Roman just nodded and yawned as if on cue. Logan smiled more offering their hand. He scrambled on to it enjoying the small warmth from them. Soon, he looked up as they moved to a more comfortable plush chair and as they sat, a bit of hesitance and curiosity sprinkled on their face.

“Would you like to sleep in my storage stomach? I doubt the table would do much good.”

“Human’s have storage stomachs?”

“Some do… This should be my final experiment with you, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to, though I assure you it’s completely safe. I’ll let you go right after if you do want to do the experiment.”

Roman looked down with a hand on his chin. He could just be let go now, but he’d risk getting attacked again with how tired he was. But Logan’s offer did sound quite relaxing… He’d never been in a storage stomach before, and it would certainly be a lovely story to tell back home. A deep breath filled his lungs as he looked back up to them.

“Alright, I’ll do it. How shall we uh… start?”

“I’ll open up my mouth so you can crawl in. If anything goes wrong just tell me. I’ll do the rest. Are you ready?”

Logan’s hands moved up closer to their lips. Roman stared in awe at the sight, shaking from the fear and excitement that ran through him.

“Yes…”

Finally, Logan’s mouth opened, and his jaw dropped at how marvelous their mouth looked. Their teeth were nearly a perfect white and their tongue looked as soft as the grass in the fields. As he came closer, a warm breath rolled over him that smelled of mint and jam. Not a scar or scratch lined the inside of their cheeks. The tongue soon rolled over their teeth, waiting for him to crawl in. He took in one more deep breath as he looked around, and soon crawled on to the soft tongue.

A strong warmth hit him as he was pulled inside, feeling even more of their breath wrap him. Carefully, he turned around so he could face the outside of their mouth. The light coming from the lab shone into their mouth, illuminating the entrance of their throat he’d soon be going down. Another breath washed over him, the warmth so inviting. He took one more good look around their mouth before they slowly closed it, darkness now surrounding him.

Soon, the tongue pinned Roman to the roof of Logan’s mouth. A small hum came out from him as their tongue squished his tiny body. The miniscule bumps on the tongue trailed his face. He held on to it, hugging it and cuddling into it. The tongue soon went down as he heard a hum from Logan. His face warmed up, almost matching with the heat that was in their mouth. Thank goodness they couldn’t see him, or he might’ve fainted! He cuddled more and more into the soft slimy flesh and let himself relax. Soon, a squeak escaped his mouth as he felt them start to tilt their head back. For a moment, his heart stopped, an instinctual fear kicking in. He took in a deep breath as he slid down to the entrance of their throat. The tip of their tongue curled over his head, giving him one last lick as he was finally gulped down into their throat.

The throat muscles was quick to massage at Roman’s tiny form, making him hum even more. It was a tad bit tight, but he didn’t mind it much, especially since he hadn’t relaxed this much in quite a while. Running a kingdom was hard work after all. Soon, he was squished even more into the muscles, certain it was Logan pressing their neck. Though soon, the pressure disappeared. A loud heartbeat and deep breathing rang in his ears as he continued to go down, deeper into their core. Finally, his legs squirmed into a much larger place, followed by the rest of him plopping down into their stomach.

Roman’s heart raced, trying to take everything in. To his surprise, there was a small blue glow coming from the mucus that lined their storage stomach, allowing him to see. With a gentle step, he stood up walking around in absolute awe. He pressed a hand into the stomach walls, entranced at his hands sinking into the folds. As soon as he pulled away, his hands started to glow from the mucus that stuck to him.

“Are you alright?” Logan’s booming voice echoed throughout the stomach.

“Yes! I’m alright!”

He continued to look around, exploring. Other than the mucus, there was no stomach acid in sight. He guessed he was right to trust the human. He took in a deep breath as he laid down, letting the warmth lull him to sleep. A yawn escaped his mouth as he snuggled into the folds.

“Hey, Logan?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for saving me. I’m not sure what I would’ve done without you…”

There was a small silence between both of them until Logan spoke.

“It’s… no problem. Sleep well, Roman…”

And with that, Roman’s eyes closed, relaxing into the walls of his new friend, falling asleep.

[kathyprior4200]

Zoophobia: The Remix

All characters, art, and settings belong to Vivziepop/Vivienne Medrano, no copyright intended. https://zoophobiacomic.com/

Chapter One: “Cameron’s Early Years”

“Greetings. My name is Salvia, a human staff member at Zoo Phoenix Academy. Don’t mind my thick red hair, it often covers my face. I love romance films and novels and I play violin. I also have extensive knowledge of psychic powers and prophecy. Me having existed since ancient times could explain it.”

 “Let me tell you an incredible, albeit bizarre story about the world I’m from. It is what mortals call ’Zoophobia.’ First, a provenance about said world…”

 “Safe Haven…it is a sanctuary, an oasis for animals, anthropomorphic beings and other creatures. The Zoo Phoenix Academy is part of it. We sustain ourselves here…and serve as a utopia and protected escape for all kinds of creatures that are ostracized by the human-dominated world beyond the Oceania Forest. That is why there are so few humans here.”

 “Safe Haven is split into seven districts and each district has an important purpose and contributes to the society as a whole. The Animal District, Capital City, the wealthy E! District, Marine District, Avian District, the Farming District and the District of Magic. (Do not go to Xirxine Labs, they do horrible experiments on beings deemed ‘troublesome.’) Pacts were made and spells were cast to prohibit malevolent forces from entering the boundaries of Safe Haven. But to maintain the peace and tranquility of this thriving culture, very specific rules were put into effect by the original peacekeepers who founded Safe Haven.”

 “Evil forces include evil spirits, rogue vampires, true demons, and blood hunters. (And don’t forget many of the entitled angels in Heaven, they can be deceiving.) The laws here are strict and they keep the dangers out, while keeping the citizens inside and safe. But this is why no living being is permitted to leave for good. It goes against the pacts that protect us. And breaking those pacts could lead to the corruption of the magic that shields us. Without magic, we would be at the mercy of not only dark monsters, but also outside humans who have wanted to hunt us all down. We would be overcome with the dark forces that have been wanting to enter Safe Haven for centuries.”

 “Safe Haven has not had a violent crime or a dangerous predator in years, and we do everything we can to keep it that way. But one circumstance changed all that we knew.”

 “This story first begins in the human world…and follows an ordinary female by the name of Cameron Walden…”

 0 0 0

 “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?”

 “Coming, mommy!”

 A jubilant fair-haired girl jumped for joy before dragging her small suitcase behind her down the hall. She was around six years old and her hair was slightly messy. Her golden-brown-haired mother looked at her with loving eyes.

 “What will we do on our camping trip today?” little Cameron asked eagerly.

 “Hmm,” she said. “Last year we went canoeing at the lake and made crafts out of sticks. Remember when we roasted marshmallows under the stars?”

 “Oh yes!” Cameron said. “Those snores were delicious!”

 “I think you mean s’mores,” her mother chuckled. “Your face and hands were so sticky afterwards. You looked like a goopy little monster.” She playfully pinched her cheeks and made a funny face as Cameron giggled.

 “But I’m thinking this year, we’ll do some of your favorite activities. I know how much you enjoy fishing.”

 “Oh yay!” Cameron cheered. “I remember daddy catching at least two. And I got to feel their smooth scaly skin. Glad he let them go at the end.”

 “He might teach you this time. But you’ll have to be patient.”

 “Don’t worry, I will…maybe.”

 Her mother chuckled again. “Let’s go, your dad is waiting for us.”

 Cameron’s father also had white skin and golden brown hair, except he had a scruffy beard that he often let Cameron feel. His eyes were kind and thoughtful and a Christian cross necklace hung around his neck. All of them wore casual jeans, brown hiking shoes and shirts of gray.

 Soon, Cameron and her family piled into their car and Cameron’s father drove them through the city streets. The city was dull and gray, reminiscent of New York City but without the splendor. But even the smoggy city didn’t deter Cameron’s excitement. During the long drive to the woods, Cameron and her family sang some songs, played I Spy and that game where you call out a word and then have to call another word that starts with the end letter.

 “Salad,” said Cameron’s father.

 “Diver,” said her mother.

 “River,” Cameron said.

 “Ratable,” said her father.

 “Uh, lion!” said her mother.

 “Ha! You lose!” said her father.

 “No fair! Ratable has a silent ‘e.’ You cheated!”

 Her father just shrugged playfully and winked at Cameron before focusing back on the road.

 “Why’d I space out like that?” her mother mumbled.

 They entered through the woods, trees surrounding either side as they rushed by. The dullness of the city faded behind them as greenery whizzed to life as they drove.

 “Have you ever thought about what you want to be when you grow up?” her mother asked.

 “I don’t know,” Cameron answered. “But I do want to help people and make the world a better place!”

 “Great spirit you have there,” her father remarked. “Anything in particular?”

 “Maybe…a counselor! Or a zookeeper! Or maybe a marine biologist! Surely it can’t be that hard comforting animals and humans the same!”

 “Well,” her mother began. “I know how much you love animals, especially fish. But humans are more…complex creatures. You need to have good listening skills in order to start. And…” she said in a singsong voice, “That means making friends!”

 Cameron groaned. She was quite shy, even in her youth.

 “I know it can be hard,” said her mother. “But you can’t expect to be alone forever. There are so many different individuals out there. And it’s true some of them may be...strange at first glance."

 “What if they…don’t like me or hurt me?”

 “No one would hurt you,” she said. “If they did, I’d make them run for the hills. Plus no one could possibly dislike such a sweet angel like yourself. Just take it one step at a time. You’ll find someone special to love. And I know you will be confident and successful one day, whatever you decide to do.”

 Cameron smiled at the thought as they continued down a dirt path. Her mother had always wanted her to be happy above all else. The car swayed and bounced as they went deeper in. At last, they found their favorite camping spot and parked. It was a pleasant area with a few pine trees, a wooden bench and a small ledge overlooking a nearby lake. As Cameron’s father pitched the tent and gathered wood, Cameron and her mother gazed at the nearby lake. Sunlight shimmered and sparkled on the water, mesmerizing Cameron. A few ducks quacked off to the side and horsetail reeds swayed in the cool breeze. A dragonfly zoomed in and out among the reeds, occasionally touching the liquid surface. It was a relief to get away from the city and into the much cleaner fresh air.

 After a fun day of hiking (Cameron identified several types of leaves and tracks), hide and seek (Cameron climbed a small tree but was found anyway) and fishing (Cameron caught one small fish), they had an early evening dinner over the fire. Cameron inhaled the scent of sizzling bratwurst and hamburgers as the meat cooked. A few stars had already appeared as the sun painted the sky orange and gold. The meat was delicious and slightly overcooked. Then they had s’mores for dessert.

 “Aw man,” groaned her father as he stared at his blackened marshmallow on a stick, “I overdid mine.” Then he grinned playfully and proceeded to eat it.

 “Gross!” Cameron remarked with a face. “How can you eat that?”

 “A marshmallow is a marshmallow,” he said with a shrug.

 Cameron’s marshmallow was a perfect golden brown in between the chocolate pieces and graham crackers. Cameron’s mother had her marshmallow plain white.

 After the satisfying meal, Cameron was eager to explore some more. “Can we go on a quick hike, Dad?” she asked. “It’s not as hot now.” A refreshing breeze caressed her skin.

 Her dad nodded. “There’s still some light out. We can look around and gaze at the stars too.”

 “Just don’t go too far,” added her mother. “And take a flashlight with you.”

 “See you shortly,” called her father as he took Cameron’s hand and began their nightly hike. Cameron’s mother waved with a smile while sitting on a log and finishing her dinner. The fire crackled brightly.

 By now, the sky has turned a dark indigo. The moonlight lit the path in front of them but they were still careful not to trip over any stray sticks, holes or rocks. Along the way, they spotted a rabbit, several squirrels, and even a stag hidden among the trees. The natural world was a wondrous place for Cameron. She and her father eventually relaxed on a cool boulder, naming the various constellations above them.

 “This is the best camping trip ever, Dad!” Cameron smiled.

 “It sure has been lots of fun, kiddo,” her father smiled. For a while, they let themselves be mesmerized by the twinkling stars and the comforting sound of the still night air. Then all too soon, he sat up and said, “We should head on back. After all, an overnight sleepover never gets old.”

 “Yeah, let’s go!” said Cameron. She let out a yawn and was looking forward to being warm in her cozy sleeping bag. They got off the rock and walked back hand in hand.

 As they wondered the trails back toward camp, the forest was quiet. Eerily quiet. There were no bird songs or bugs or even the swaying of the wind. Even with the flashlight and moonlight, it grew much darker than before. Cameron grew silent and scooted closer to her father as they walked. A prickling feeling crept up to her neck…she felt like something was watching her. With every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves, she flinched slightly.

 “Are there m-monsters out here?” she asked, almost in a whisper.

 “Don’t be concerned. Other than the devil and wild animals, monsters don’t exist. Everything is fine,” her father assured her.

 Cameron grew less and less convinced as they continued their trek. Shadows flickered and warped this way and that, a trick of the eyes. Cameron whimpered softly. Something tall loomed up ahead. A large tree was in front of them, larger than the other trees around. It looked like an ancient oak tree with hanging branches and a worn down trunk. Cyan fog surrounded the tree and the area, giving it an enigmatic and ominous feel.

 A low hooting sound came from nearby. Cameron glanced at a black hole in the tree, at her eye-level. A smaller branch stuck off to the side of it. She peered inside and didn’t see anything.

 But then…a pair of glowing yellow eyes blinked from inside. And a white owl emerged onto the branch! She shined her flashlight at it and it didn’t flinch. Just stared intently.

 Cameron had never seen such a majestic creature before. It had white feathers, tiny black spots on its coat and a sharp hooked beak. But there was something peculiar about this owl. Looking closely, Cameron could make out zig-zag yellow stripes down the front of its body. And its eyes…they were big and yellow like an owl’s but seemed…older. Instead of being a single color, the large orbs glowed yellow with dark stripes like a bumblebee. It almost appeared as if the lines in the eyes were moving. Strange small jagged eyelashes jutted out from the sides of the orbs. The owl eyed Cameron like she was an innocent mouse; she did not like the look at all.

 Cameron blinked and for a millisecond, she saw a bizarre being; what looked like a bird but with the head of a woman with white blonde hair and pale skin. Before she could comprehend what it was (a harpy), it had turned back into an owl in the blink of an eye. After letting out an ominous hoot, it vanished into the hole as Cameron’s father called her name. She hurried off to catch up to him.

 Cameron shook her head, convinced it was just her fearful imagination. No owl would come out and look through her like that.

 A strange sense of foreboding flowed through Cameron. She and her father quickened their pace.

  Back at camp, a low growling sound grew steadily louder.

 Growl. Crunch. Crunch. Tap. Tap. Tap.

 The sounds of steps and shuffling grew closer. Cameron’s mother looked around, holding a bratwurst in one hand.

 Grooooowwwlll….snort, snort.

 Hot breath on neck. Snapping of twigs.

 Cameron’s mother slowly turned around, meeting large dark eyes…

 A scream echoed out into the night, almost paralyzing Cameron in her tracks.

 “Dad?”

  It was shrill and pleading…and then it rang out again.

 Longer lasting screams and roars seemed to be coming from everywhere. The world seemed to be spinning.

 “What was that?!” Cameron cried.

 “I don’t know, but I have a feeling we need to get back,” said her father with concern. For the first time, he appeared sacred as well.

 Without hesitation, her father grabbed hold of her hand and raced as fast as his legs could carry him. Cameron briefly tripped over a log but her father picked her up. A sudden gust of biting wind pushed against them, but they still ran. They flinched from the sudden cold and the dust that flew in their faces. It drowned out the screams until they faded away. The wind came to a howling peak and then halted as they reached the clearing.

 Her father suddenly gasped and froze to a stop, Cameron almost bumping into him. His flashlight fell to the ground. There was the tangy smell of…Cameron figured it wasn’t the cooked dinner they had.

 “Stay back, Cameron!” her father ordered sharply, pushing her behind him. “And don’t watch!”

 But of course she did…then wished she hadn’t.

 Standing over a figure in the dirt was a monstrous brown bear. The bear bared his sharp teeth, paw on its food, mouth caked with blood. Tearing and squelching was heard. Crimson splotches looked jarring in the limited light. And underneath the bear was…

 “M-mom?!”

 In one swift motion, her father retrieved a gun he had safely secured behind him and took aim.

 Bang! Bang!

 Several shots rang out, deafening like bombs. Cameron covered her ears and yelped. A primal bellow of protest followed. The bear roared one last time before bounding and stomping away. Bush leaves rustled as a few more shots rang out. Her father yelled curses and raced toward where the bear had left.

 Creeping closer, Cameron sank to her knees and stared in disbelief. It was her mother…or what was left of her. Her face was ashen, dirty and pale, scratches all along her body. Her back and belly had disastrous bites, thick dark red blood oozing onto the grassy ground. Muscle and viscera were visible from the gashes.

 Cameron turned her mother’s face around and was met with guttural heaving breaths. The unnatural agonizing kind right before death.

 “Oh god, oh god, oh god…” Cameron muttered, voice cracking, eyes wide. “Somebody help! Help!” The smell made her gag, but she still stayed.

 Her mother’s eyes fluttered. She slowly reached a pale shaking hand toward Cameron. Cameron moved closer as both their hands met. The cold clammy hand squeezed her little fingers.

 “S-safe Haven…” she wheezed, staring long and hard into Cameron’s eyes. “You’ll do…g-great things. Unite them all. Stay safe, safe…”

 “Mom, w-what do you mean? Safe Haven, what?”

 “My a-angel…”

 Her mother wheezed and croaked again before her hand went limp, letting go of Cameron’s fingers. Her mother gave her one last kind look before her eyes glazed over. She had stopped moving. Nothing but cold flesh, blood and a lifeless form.  

 “Mom? Mom! Mooooom!!!”

 Cameron’s father pulled her back a bit. Without a word, Cameron’s father cradled his wife’s body as Cameron buried her face in her bloodstained clothes.

 Her father pulled her back a bit after gently lowing her mother to the ground. He closed her eyes with his fingers. She looked like she was asleep, even though she wasn’t. (Or if she was, it was eternal and dreamless. Or maybe she was already in Heaven; Cameron didn’t know). Cameron and her father stood silently still, embracing each other. Tears rolled down their faces, Cameron’s primal sobs echoing through the night. Her hands were stained with leftover blood. After about ten minutes of utter grief, her father looked at her.

 “Cameron, get in the car.”

 “W-why?”

 “Just do it.”

 A sternness and aloofness look appeared on his face, a look Cameron had never seen him make in front of her. The bright color and spark in his eyes had been snuffed out. Without waiting for another answer, her father picked her up, carried her over to the car and placed her in the back seat. The door closed. From outside, the fire was put out, leaving only dying embers and sad orange sparks. The light gray smoke curled into spirals, doing somber dances in the breeze before vanishing.

 Cameron waited in the back seat, curled up into a ball. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Her mother had been mauled by a bear before her eyes…and she could’ve been next! The ruthless face of the bear would haunt her memories for many years. Not long after, she saw flashes of red and blue light through the dirt-spotted windows. Her mother’s body was covered by a white sheet and taken on a stretcher by medics who had driven by. Fortunately, they still had decent cell phone service. Without another word, her father packed up the tent and all their belongings, tossing them in the back. He got in the driver’s seat and took them home on a long solemn drive.

 0 0 0

The funeral went as well as one would expect. Prayers and condolences were spoken and family members talked in hushed tones, all wearing black. Cameron glanced around passively at the stained glass church windows, sad and bored at the proceedings. Her mother’s coffin was gently lowered into the ground afterwards. Vivid flowers were placed everywhere; red, pink, white, yellow and purple. Being so young, Cameron later didn’t remember the funeral at all. All she knew was that an important part of her life had vanished.

 She and her father were never the same afterwards. As Cameron grew up and went to the dismal public school, he became preoccupied with his work. She hardly saw him much anymore. They grew distant, not in a bad way but similar to how different friends grow apart when their interests take them down new paths.

 Cameron went to therapy for a while, with Mrs. Winkler, a kind old lady. But the sessions didn’t seem to help. For one thing, Cameron’s fear of animals grew worse each passing year. The fact that she had taken a trip to the zoo with her father only deepened it.

 Her father had hoped that a new trip would cheer her up. But the animals would scare her as they roared and pawed at her through the glass when she watched. No one noticed a glowing golden apple which appeared in the exhibits…it let out light and made strange humming noises. The animals all threw themselves menacingly at Cameron with roars, hisses, and growls: Lions, tigers, bears, cheetahs…But it wasn’t just the predatory animals that somehow grew agitated at her. The flamingos squawked nosily, the gators snapped their jaws, and the monkeys would laugh and throw food at her which bounced off the cage wall. The sharks and birds, and oh goodness, the snakes too. The only animals that didn’t appear to pay her any attention were the fish. They just swam around and around as if nothing happened.

 Strangely enough, her father didn’t notice.

 “What has gotten into you, Cam?” he asked in disbelief after she screamed and sobbed. “Those animals aren’t attacking you.”

 “Y-yes they are!” she cried. “Didn’t you see?”

 But no one else seemed to notice either. They were just smiling and observing the animals like regular visitors. And the animals were doing their normal routines. A few people gave Cameron looks and raised their eyebrows.

 Her father pulled her close. “You’re almost a teenager. Stop acting like a sacred child.”

 “I-I know what I saw!” she sobbed. “I know it!”

 Her father sighed and merely said, “Let’s go home.”

 Cameron lowered her head. She used to enjoy the zoo more than anything…now she had an unbreakable fear of animals. (It had gotten bad to the point where she didn’t even want any pets.)

 Cameron didn’t see a grinning yellow face with matching eyes blending within the trees when she left the zoo. Nor did she hear its high pitched cackle. A slender hand held up a golden apple and the illusions replayed.

 Another thing that didn’t help was school. Cameron was smart enough in class (especially in literature) but was often bullied for her meekness. Many of the bullies would make animal sounds and jump at her from behind corners.

 “Look how sacred she is!” they would mock. “Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? And everything else in existence? Lamb Cam!”

 “Don’t call me that!” she spat. “It’s Cameron!”

 “Scram, Cam! Scaredy cat! Scaredy cat! Mrrow!”

 And the creepers too as she became a teen.

 “Ride me like an animal, Cam! Damn!”

 “Are you a turtle, dearie? Cause I’d love to fly through your tender shell…”

 “You must be a kitty cat, ‘cause you’ve got some fine pus…”

 “Don’t you finish that sentence!”

 After finally graduating high school hell, Cameron went to college. After hard work, she got her degree in Guidance Counseling. She figured she’d stray away from animals and gear more toward helping members of her own species. Helping others was her purpose…and getting her degree was a great accomplishment. Friends and boyfriends came and went. She soon lived on her own.  

 Getting a job, however…much easier said than done. No matter where Cameron looked or how many interviews she went to, they all seemed to dismiss her.

 “I’m sorry, you don’t have the right qualifications we’re looking for.”

 “We are currently reaching out to other applicants at this time. Thank you for your interest.”

 “No social skills…no experience…hmm…not quite fit for this position.”

 They always changed their minds at the last minute. Cameron never understood why.

 Cameron buried her face in her hands in her room. The fear and sorrow would never go away. The gray skies and the pattering of rain over the glum city matched her mood. She was now twenty-five years old, unemployed, and utterly alone.

 Her last hope was a new job position offered to her by a lady with white blonde hair. She had given Cameron her business card and office address: “KayCee: guidance counselor position interview, 12:00 sharp tomorrow.”

 Another failed interview, but she figured she’d give it a try.

 And then her nightmares. The nightmares that always seemed to come back. They were always the same. Cameron racing through the forest, being chased by every animal and mythical creature in existence. The gnashing of teeth, swipes of paws, being chewed on and swallowed into darkness. Then, thinking it was all over, she’d wake up…

 …only to see her mother’s dead body on the floor in front of her.

 “Monster! Monster!” a shadowy crowd chanted, surrounding her. But they were pointing their fingers at her, their glowing white eyes accusing.

 “No! No, I’m not a monster!” Cameron cried, looking down. Her mother’s head snapped up and her eyes were yellow and black stripes, eyelashes curling out on all sides. “Monster!” She let out a crazed laugh, white teeth sharp, tongue out, eyes rolling back.

 Cameron felt herself falling, falling, being watched by dozens of eyes. Eyes, eyes everywhere. Staring into her reflection, she gasped and screamed in horror. She saw her frightened blonde face, but her body consisted of white feathers, talon feet, a thin neck and bat-like wings. She was a harpy. An abomination…becoming what she feared itself.

 More screams as she fell down, down, her black pupils growing wider…

 0 0 0

Cameron’s pupils shrank back as she lay on her back on a couch. She wore a business casual light gray shirt and a dark skirt. A back headband sat on her golden brown hair, while a few strands hung from either side of her freckled face. The walls were stark gray on all sides. A lone palm frond plant sat in a pot to the side. A grandfather clock ticked quietly in the room, the pendulum swinging from side to side in rhythm.

 “I had that dream again…it was so vivid this time,” Cameron told Mrs. Winkler.

 “Perhaps your upcoming job assignment played a part in that?” The elder Mrs. Winkler suggested. The therapist wore a gray dress and took notes on a clipboard.

 “Maybe,” said Cameron. “But why that dream? I haven’t had it in so long. It was just…so unexpected.”

 Cameron sat up. “It was like reliving the whole thing. And bringing back all those memories.” She shuddered slightly, glancing off to the side. “I mean, I’ve been stressed out lately but…I’ve never had that dream so suddenly…”

 “Well, dear…” the therapist began, looking at her clipboard. “It sounds to me like…”

 Cameron glanced up at the clock, which chimed 12:00.

 “Oh! Oh my god, I’m late!” she cried. She leaned in, hands clasped. “Thank you so, so much for listening, Mrs. Winkler! Wish me luck!”

 Cameron grabbed her handbag, turned the doorknob and hurried out of the room. “Taxi!” she yelled as she bounded out of the building and down the steps. The rain poured down as she got in. She soon arrived at the other building.

 Inside the office, a voice came over through the PA with a bzzt.

 “Ms. KayCee. The 12 0’ clock is here…late.”

 “Send her in,” replied the woman. She had a tan face, long white hair and narrowed eyes that appeared to glow. She wore a gray business suit and a green pendant around her neck. She sat at her desk with an apple and a pencil holder off to the side. She glanced down at some paperwork in front of her, pen in hand. Rain pattered from outside the window.

 Cameron appeared in the doorway. “I’m so sorry I’m late!”

 “Come in,” said the woman.

 Cameron caught her breath and hustled over to the desk. “I uh…lost track of time.”

 “It’s quite…alright…”

 The woman glanced up in surprise, noticing Cameron’s wet hair.

 “It’s, heh…r-raining outside…” Cameron stuttered nervously, making a gesture.

 “Take a seat please,” said KayCee. “So we can begin to discuss your placement with this program.”

 Cameron lowered herself into a chair.

 “Again, so sorry for being late,” Cameron said.

 “It’s alright,” KayCee replied.

 Cameron nervously glanced off to the side. KayCee stared intently at Cameron, a faint yellow glow around her eyes. She rested her chin on her hands.

 Cameron raised an eyebrow, a faint chill racing through her body. “Do…I know you from some…”

 “Yes,” KayCee cut her off.

 Cameron knew that KayCee didn’t want to get into the déjà vu moments. After a brief moment of staring, KayCee cleared her throat and looked at the forms in front of her.

 “Well looking at your report and resume, I wasn’t able to find a suitable position for you. We don’t seem to have a vacant job here with need of your skills…”

 ‘Oh no. Not again,’ Cameron thought with dread.

 “I’m afraid there is not much I could do…”

 Cameron leaned forward and put her arms and elbows on the desk in a begging position. “Please! I really need this job! I have been waiting for an assignment for so long, there has to be something!”

 Lightning flashed and thunder cracked from outside as KayCee looked over the form again.

 KayCee observed the form. It read “Classified” in bold letters at the top. “Needed positions” “Possible applicants” were shown. “Guidance Counselor” was heavily circled underneath it. Off to the side read: “Agreement to transfer required.” “Must be informed of where.” Below was a “job applicants” list.

 “Well…” KayCee began. “You do have a degree in counseling, do you not?”

 “Yes! I do!” Cameron said. She didn’t even question how this lady knew that fact. “I’ll take it! Please!”

 “It’s a transfer position, it would require relocation,” KayCee mentioned.

 Cameron stood up and leaned into her face. “I’ll take it! Wherever it is, I’ll take it!”

 “Very well then,” said KayCee. “A private jet will take you from this building on Thursday, 9:00. I suggest you pack all your things.”

 Cameron raced over and hugged her. “Yes! Oh yes! Thank you!” KayCee’s eyes briefly turned white with glowing yellow stripes. She narrowed her normal eyes and deadpanned, “Don’t be late.”

 “Oh I won’t!” Cameron declared, stepping back. She put her hands together. “Thank you so much!”

 “You are quite welcome, Ms. Walden,” KayCee said, reaching for the red apple.

 “Oh! Call me Cameron!” Cameron took her bag and opened the door. “Thanks again!” she called before shutting the door with a click.

 “Hm, hm, hm, hm, hm,” KayCee chuckled lowly. Her fingers grew crooked and her black nails grew sharp. The apple in her hand vibrated and a golden spiral emerged from the center. Soon the apple was golden and glowing in her hand. KayCee lounged on her desk, knocking over the pencils in the holder off the desk with a foot.

 “No Ms. Cameron…” She then spoke in a high pitched echoing shrill, “Thank you!”

 In a flash of magic, KayCee had turned into her true form. A being with wild white poufy hair that sizzled with white electricity strands. She wore a white dress with holes in them. She grinned a sinister grin of sharp golden teeth. Her black and yellow striped eyes and long jagged eyelashes made her appearance all the more untamed. She let out an evil maniacal laugh.

 0 0 0

 “Salvia here again. As you probably have figured out, KayCee is no ordinary human. She is Eris, the Greek Goddess of Strife and Chaos. For she was the one who tossed the Golden Apple of Discord to provoke arguments between Aphrodite, Athena and Hera over who was the fairest goddess. Paris of Troy chose Aphrodite, igniting the Trojan War. Eris, along with Jestine and some other deities, exist to cause discord, nightmares and all sorts of trouble. KayCee/Eris indeed, sent Cameron to Safe Haven, knowing full well that she had no knowledge about the denizens of the destination. Her plan is thus: with Cameron fearing the animal residents and Safe Haven having been discovered by an outsider, the magic protecting it weakens over time. Eris hopes the barriers will eventually break, resulting in war and mass murders from the dark forces…and the humans. For the more chaos there is, the more her power grows. And she won’t stop until every world becomes her chaotic playground.”

 “None of us knows what Eris truly wants, but one thing is for sure. Cameron and all of us have to keep our guard up. Eris thrives on manipulation, deceit and black sorcery. To her, the apocalypse is an entertaining musical.”

 “For now, we continue our story of Cameron, who soon departs her hometown and embarks on her journey toward Safe Haven…”

 Chapter Two: “Cameron’s Arrival to Safe Haven” 

 It wasn’t long before Cameron arrived outside the building where she had her meeting with KayCee. The sky was clear but smoggy with tan pollution. The city silhouette stood in the background. She soon spotted the jet…which looked more like a dull forest green plane. The plane was old-fashioned with a propeller in the front and two wings on either side of the craft. It was dull green in color and decorated with black stripes. Cameron wore her usual gray clothes and carried her suitcase. At the ramp of steps, a figure stood waiting for her.

 “I’ve never been on a private j…plane, before. Are you the pilot, Miss…?”

 “Snake.” The woman answered in a low voice.

 “Snake?” Cameron asked in confusion.

 The woman had light green skin and strangled forest green hair decorated with dark specks. A pair of sunglasses rested on her head. She wore a green tank top, an emerald green scarf and a green-gray skirt. Long elbow-length gloves covered her hands and a white cigarette was in her mouth.

 “Interesting name,” said Cameron. “Does it mean anything?”

 Snake did not answer.

 Cameron continued, “Because I have never heard of someone naming a child something like that.”

 Had Cameron been anyone else, she would’ve gotten a harsh slap for the insult. Instead, Snake crossed her arms, holding her cigarette between two fingers. “Save the jaw-flappin’ fer later, hunny. I don’t wanna fly with a headache.” She dropped her cigarette and crushed it with her green high heel on the ground.

 Cameron flinched. “Oh! I-I’m sorry! I’m just a bit anxious…”

 Cameron walked up the steps and into the aircraft. “Going to new places and everything, ya know?”

 “Sure,” Snake answered with disinterest. “Just put a sock in it ‘till we get there.”

 Snake sat down and pulled various levers and pressed buttons. The plane was soon off the ground and flying over the city. The propeller spun fast and they zoomed away. Cameron sat nervously in her seat. ‘I hope this was a good idea,’ she thought to herself. ‘There’s no turning back now…’

 As the plane swooped over a vast forest, a spectral form of KayCee/Eris grinned mischievously against a large boulder, watching the plane. The sun rose over the hill in front of them, a promise of a new life and adventure.

 Snake piloted the plane, sunglasses over her eyes, lost in thought. She briefly cleaned her teeth with a toothpick in one hand, going around her two white fangs.

 Snake was in fact, a loner and shapeshifter, who could transform into a green snake at will. One of her friends was Taxi, a yellow werewolf who worked as a cab driver, mechanic…and merrymaker. She would drive monster trucks around while Snake would fly and fix various planes. The two of them bonded over their love of machines, smoking and drinking. Snake was also a secret agent in Safe Haven, skilled with guns and weapons. Her skills in stealth were so great, that she was soon hired by the Zoo Phoenix Academy staff to travel to the human world to retrieve recruits.  

 Snake, Taxi and Taxi’s werewolf friends would often party, drink and get into trouble. Although Snake had enjoyed it, she also was not proud that she had killed other people on the streets. So in a way, this job was fine with her.

 But then Cameron broke the tranquil silence.

 “Wow! I didn’t know the forest was this big,” she exclaimed. “We’ve been flying over it for hours…it’s like, endless!”

 Snake scoffed. “Yeah…why ya think it’s called the f*ckin’ “Oceania” Forest, hm? ‘Cause it’s big. What’d I say about talkin’?”

 Honk!

 Honk!

 Cameron looked out the window with a loud gasp. “Oh my…” A giant sky blue bird was honking outside her window. It was larger than any regular bird she had seen.

 “Snake!” Cameron wailed out loud, making Snake flinch. “T-there’s a giant bird outside the window!” Cameron grabbed onto her.

 “What?” Snake asked.

 “G-giant bird! It was huge…giant…! What if it attacks the plane?!”

 “Get back to yer seat!” Snake yelled, baring her fangs.

 ‘Snakes on a plane!’ Cameron thought in fear, after spotting her fangs.

 Cameron obliged and looked out the window. The bird was gone.

 ‘Great, now I’m seeing things…’ she thought.

 The sun set outside, turning the sky pink and yellow. Cameron sat, bored. She fell asleep as night fell. The next day, Cameron woke up, sunlight shining through the window.

 Snake was nowhere to be seen.

 “Hello?”

 She stood up and walked down the dark empty aisle.

 “Uh…what’s going on?”

 No answer.

 “S-Snake?!”

 Cameron looked out the window and saw a bunch of shadowy creatures outside.

 “Oh god.”

 Trying to be brave, she peered out the window.

 “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god…”

 “Surprise!” hollered the bizarre creatures.

 Cameron walked down the steps, stunned. There were so many strange new faces, she couldn’t keep track. Fabian the fox, Perci and Malcom the red and green dragons, Carrie the blonde demon, Zechariah the cheetah, Principal Winston the one with the yellow squid head, a teal eel with a monocle, a person with orange and yellow hair, a midnight blue stag, a yellow fox, and Salvia too. All the Zoo Phoenix Academy staff were there to welcome her.

 Cameron stared off into space, seeing the creatures. Was this some kind of prank? Were these just people in costumes trying to bully her again?

 Just then, Perci the dragon got into her face and said, “Welcome to the zoo, Cameron Walden! Well—hah! Of course it isn’t really a zoo! Sorta ironic that I just called it that, really! Hahahaha!”

 Cameron gulped. She felt like it was a zoo…a dangerous wacky one with escaped mythical creatures. Perci put an arm around her. The eel shook her hand. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear!”

 Were these really talking animals?

 A strong hand lifted up Cameron’s arm as a tough light gray face with blonde hair inspected her.

 “She sure is a scrawny-gangly-shaky li’ thing, ain’t she?” Carrie remarked in a gruff voice.

 “Oh nonsense Carrie,” said Fabian the red fox. “I think Ms. Cameron looks perfectly fine.” He gave her a wink and a sultry look, Cameron cringing in disgust. Was that fox hitting on her?

 “I’ll take your word on that, Fabian!” called the blind green dragon teacher Malcom. His hair was black, skin light green. He walked up to her. “Good evening? Morning? Day!”

 There was a brief silence.

 “How about a kiss, pretty lady?” Fabian cooed, getting close to her with his tongue.

 “Eeeeiiiiahhhhhhee!”

 Cameron screamed at the top of her lungs. “S-stay back! A-all of you! Don’t come any closer!”

 The animals glared at her, teeth showing. Any moment, they would pounce on her. For several moments, Cameron could only hear growls, slurps, mutters and hisses.

 The cheetah rumbled in thought as the squid principal slurped his tea loudly beside him.

 Cameron took more steps back. “I-I mean it! Stay away from me! Stay away! D-don’t come any closer!”

 “Calm down, dearie,” Perci reassured. But Cameron only heard a strange growl from him that sounded like “Raaalmm, rrowwn, geeerrek!” She was too scared to properly comprehend the human speech.

 Cameron suddenly pointed behind them. “Look! What’s that over there?” She promptly dashed away with a zip while only Perci glanced behind him. The others narrowed their eyes in confusion.

 Cameron screamed some more before skidding to a halt. She gasped. “Oh my! What on Earth?”

 Before her lay a vibrant magical world beyond her greatest imagination. It was a cross between Jurassic Park, Zootopia and a child’s version of New York. A blue sea creature eel with three eyes slithered across a teal street with dark stones on it. A slender red bird appeared to be pulling a covered wagon in the distance. A yellow cab drove by a golden dragon and a yellow bird with long feathers. The buildings were curved, concaved and had glass coverings around them. There was a small pond, several sidewalks and lamps illuminating the small park below. Birds of many colors flapped and fluttered freely in the air, some of them looking like pterodactyls. A large red spotted wall had several archways of different sizes, green vines going up it and a large golden eye in the center. Several birds were perching on the top of the wall. A few waterfalls flowed through the arches of the wall. There were several dinosaurs too; a two headed blue longneck, a golden dinosaur with multiple eyes and a flap of skin on its head, and a violet triceratops that looked like a pincher beetle. Nearby buildings of blue, yellow and pink read “Gym,” “Liquor,” and “Le Crumbles” respectively.  

 Cameron shook her head. “This is not happening…I’m dreaming this.”

 Cameron felt something soft and furry press against her back. Without a word, her eyes darted upwards and met the gaze of a cheetah.

 “Is there something wrong, Miss?” asked the cheetah.

 But of course, Cameron only heard hungry growls. She saw the cheetah’s teeth and maw and felt lightheaded.

 “Uhhh…”

 This was it…she was now cat food. Her eyes rolled back and she fainted onto the ground. The cheetah rolled his eyes and sighed in concern.

 “Somebody get our new visitor to the infirmary.”

 “I can do it,” Fabian purred.

 “No. I got it,” barked Carrie, lifting up Cameron’s form easily.

 0 0 0

“Wuuuhh?”

 Cameron groaned and slowly opened her eyes. Her vision cleared and she saw a man with tan skin and blonde hair with bangs jutting off to one side. He wore a sky blue shirt, a torn white tie and dark pants. Cameron was lying on a table. In the dark room, a sky blue poster with a yellow smiley face read “Smile! It’s almost over!”

 “You okay, hun?” the man asked. He was Chastopher the nurse.

 “W-what’s going on?” Cameron asked, sitting up.

 “You are in the nurse’s office, my dear!”

 Cameron rubbed her head. “Oh thank god…I just had the worst dream ev…what is that?” Her face turned pale.

 The man held a red power drill in one hand. As he turned around, Cameron swore she heard the screeching music from “Psycho.”

 “Willis said you needed a checkup!” he babbled, leaning close to her face. “Willis is very smart, you know!”

 He hugged a stuffed lime-colored unicorn with a black button eye and flicked on the drill. The drill buzzed loudly, mixing with his crazed giggles.

 “Help!” Cameron screamed. She dove under his legs off the table and scrambled away. Cameron flung open the door and gulped with a pause. The cheetah was back, blocking her way.

 “Are you feeling better, Miss Walden?”

 “No.” Cameron replied, eye twitching. Why was she talking to a cheetah? Animals didn’t talk, yet here they were. She turned around, clutching her head. There had to be a way to escape.

 “Okay! O-kay! T-This is just a big crazy dream! Wake up! Wake up Cameron! Wake up!”

 “Wake up,” the nurse sang with a dopey expression, holding his toy. After closing her eyes, she opened them again. To her disappointment, she was still in the same place.

 “Are you finished?” the cheetah deadpanned, an annoyed look on his furry face.

 Cameron sighed. “Okay…I give up…w-what’s going on?”

 “Were you not informed about…”

 “About what? Informed about what?!”

 The cheetah stared at her in confusion. “You were not informed about this place before being sent here?”

 “Sent where? Where am I?!”

 Oh dear, this was going to be hard to explain. They needed a better place to talk.

 “Follow me, Miss...” said the cheetah, moving on four legs.

 Feeling like she had no choice, Cameron awkwardly obliged. Cameron peeked back toward the room and saw the nurse sleeping against his toy.

 “S-So…” Cameron began as she raced to catch up to the cheetah. “Y-you’re a giant cheetah?”

 “Yes.”

 “Just checking…”

 They walked past green lockers and into an office.

 “Have a seat, Miss,” said the cheetah. He mentioned to a large purple desk chair as Cameron slowly sat down.

 Sluurrrrppp!

 The principal with a yellow and red squid head with three lip-like designs on his forehead was slurping loudly from a pink teacup. He wore a dark business suit with buttons. A matching pink teapot sat at his desk and slobber dribbled onto the desk surface. Cameron darted her eyes toward him in bewilderment.

 The cheetah smiled. “Oh this is Principal Winston. He is quite harmless.”

 “Right…” Cameron breathed, pulling her knees closer together.

 The cheetah stared at Cameron with concern. He felt bad for this newcomer who had been so traumatized on her first visit. He remembered when he himself first arrived to Safe Haven, formerly being a regular cheetah and accidentally falling through a portal. He had magically gained the ability to talk thanks to Salvia and became one of the staff members at the school. Although he missed his original family, he had found other creatures like himself…a new family.

 Perhaps he could help Cameron be a part of it…quirkiness and all. But the hard truth had to come first.

 The cheetah straightened his spine and cleared his throat.

 “Well my dear Miss Cameron. I have some news for you. My name is Zechariah, and I regret to inform you that there seems to have been some sort of mistake with the company that employed you. You were hired to be a guidance counselor, correct?”

 “Y-yes.”

 “Well, all humans employed or chosen to be sent here are given strict details about this world, and it is their choice to be transferred.”

 Zechariah’s eyes glowed yellow and narrowed in suspicion. “Whoever sent you, did an incredibly dishonest thing…for once here, you cannot return to the outside world you once knew…”

 Cameron could hardly breathe. “S-So I’m stuck in the crazy magical world of oversized talking animals?”

 “I am afraid so, Miss.” Then he added in a more professional tone, “Also, this is an interspecies society. There are many different creatures. Not just ‘animals.’”

 Cameron shuddered with renewed terror. “Like what? Other scary things? Vampires?”

 “Yes.”

 “Mermaids? Demons? Ghosts?”

 “Yes.”

 “Aliens?”

 “Aliens do not exist, Miss Cameron.”

 “Where am I right now?” Cameron wondered out loud.

 “You are in the Zoo Phoenix Academy,” said Zechariah. “This is where you were employed. So we brought you right here. Would you like a tour?”

 “Okay?” Cameron hesitated.

 Zechariah held up his tail which had a watch on it. He spoke into the device. “Jackie, can you come to my office please?”

 “Absolutely!” a voice replied.

 Cameron grabbed onto Zechariah’s tail. “Who’s Jackie?”

 Cameron soon got her answer when a woman strolled into the room. “Hey, hey hey!” she trilled in a sing-song voice. Jackie wore a long dress in different shades of blue; navy blue at the top to sky blue at the bottom. Her dress had yellow trim around it and she wore matching yellow shoes. Her skin was light brown and her hair was in vibrant shades of blue, with yellow tufts toward the back and a green tip that served as a bang. Her hair was reminiscent of parrot feathers.

 She was a parrot shapeshifter…and she chatted like one too.

 She walked over to Cameron and eagerly shook her hand.

 “Hello, hello, hello! I’m Jackie! Drama instructor. So you are the new girl everyone’s talking about? What’s your name?”

 “Cameron,” she replied nervously.

 “You caused quite a scene huh, Cam?”

 “It’s Cameron.”

 Zechariah leaned over.

 “She is in need of a tour, Jackie.”

 Jackie put an arm around a stunned Cameron and guided her through the door.

 “Not another word, Zech! I got this!”

 0 0 0

 Jackie eagerly showed Cameron around the vast campus. Despite being inhabited by strange beings, Cameron couldn’t help but admire the buildings and scenery. The grass was bright green and fresh and the trees provided ample shade for hot days. The building exteriors were made of smooth glass and round in globe shapes. They walked through a cobblestone courtyard, where a fountain trickled in the center. On either side of the entrance, there were statues of phoenixes made of bloodstone, garnet and rubies. The phoenix was the mascot, symbolizing rebirth and new hope. “Rise from the ashes, soar into success!” was the academy motto.

 “I love our mascot, don’t you?” Jackie asked Cameron. Cameron mostly zoned out as Jackie chatted on and on. “Though I’d much prefer parrots! They’re so beautiful and lively. The school would do good to spread some more musical cheer. And parrots would be perfect! Just notice how well they can talk and sing. The Zoo Parrot Academy, wouldn’t have to worry about changing the acronym.”

 They soon walked through some double doors and into a vast chamber made up of the red spotted wall.

 “I really think you will love working here, Cam! This is the main lobby. All the subject wings branch off from here.”

 Reflected watery light of an aquarium danced around the floor and walls. Jackie guided Cameron through a large room with an elevator and long tan chairs off to the side. A winding green staircase swirled up to an upper level with glass panes and a marvelous view of the outside. Several archways branched off to different sections. They passed under an arch, which was against a light blue wall, leading to the aquarium. Inside, Cameron could see a friendly-looking fish, a hammerhead shark, a swordfish and a bottlenose dolphin gliding playfully through the water.

  “Have I gone insane?” Cameron breathed as she looked up at the aquarium ceiling in wonder.

 “No, not really!” Jackie replied.

 One archway had a grandfather clock beside it, another was adorned with red curtains and another was supported by Greek pillars.

 Cameron stopped for a moment as Jackie turned around.

 ���You ready?” she asked.

 Cameron stood there puzzled as Jackie wandered off toward the stairs. Jackie looked at her and laughed sheepishly.

 “What? Did you think I was gonna be like ‘Come, I’ll show you my wing first?!’”

 Cameron nodded.

 “Oh, that would be kinda silly. I mean, why not save the best for last?! There are so many great places to explore here, wouldn’t want to deprive you of the diverse experience, ya know?”

 Cameron let out a small understanding smile. “Thank you.”

 “Alrighty! Let’s flutter on up! Heh…or walk, rather…”

 Cameron rolled her eyes as she followed Jackie up the stairs.

 They walked into the first wing supported by Greek pillars, and Cameron could smell the scent of dusty books.

 “This is the library!” said Jackie. Then she covered her mouth, speaking softer. “I forgot I’m supposed to whisper in here!”

 Going inside, there were rows and rows of books on shelves all around them. Some were leather bond with yellowed pages while others looked brand new. There were also magazines and modern computers on round desks where students were doing their work. Several winged birds were busy organizing the books on the higher shelves, which arched toward the high stained-glass ceiling. The ceiling had glass designs of owls, phoenixes and trees. At the front desk, a camel lady with thin glasses was busy exchanging books with passerby.

 “Here you’ll find everything you need to study on counseling techniques, textbooks or just reading for fun. It’s the go-to place for research of all kinds. The students here are teenagers but we have majors and college-like courses in this high school!”

 “Quiet!” whispered a nearby gray owl with a monocle at Jackie.

 “Sorry!” she whispered.

 “Well…that’s quite something,” said Cameron.

 “I know, right? Trying to combine different curriculums, school systems and diverse races and species of students can be a lot of work. But thankfully the founders of Safe Haven helped out tremendously.”

 “And they are?” Cameron asked.

 But Jackie instead got distracted and waved at a red-haired woman in the distance.

 Toward the back of the library was a shadowed section labeled “Restricted Section,” which housed books on dark magic. Sitting at the edge of that section on a chair was Salvia with a book in hand. Jackie guided Cameron over to the red-haired woman. They stopped just short of her.

 Salvia lifted up her face slightly from a book labeled “Romeo and Juliet 2: Love and Lies.” She wore a black dress with red etched patterns.

 “Can I help you?”

  “This is Salvia, one of the staff members,” said Jackie in an excited whisper. Jackie gestured for Cameron to introduce herself.

 “Uh…hi,” Cameron said with a nervous grin and wave. Salvia peered at her closely, her eyes hidden behind her hair. “You’re the newcomer, right?”

 Cameron nodded.

 “Welcome to Z.P.A.,” she said.

 “Huh?”

 “Zoo Phoenix Academy, the place you’ll be staying at briefly until we can get you a new home nearby.”

 Cameron paced back and forth, anxious again. “No one has explained exactly what is going on here, what this place is, what’s it called?” Cameron asked. “I know you guys are trying to keep me from getting scared but I’ve had it with being confused! Explain things to me.”

 “Shhh!” several voices shushed Cameron when she raised her voice.

 “Oh of course,” said Salvia, putting the book down and conjuring magical images and sigils in front of her. “Might as well explain it to you now rather than wait three whole weeks later after witnessing a vampire attack to do it.”

 “W-What?” Cameron asked before she was shushed again.

 “I can see glimpses of the future,” Salvia mentioned. “Anyway, Cameron, you’ve only been exposed to the Zoo Phoenix Academy and its grounds…we were gonna wait until you felt more comfortable with the school but, if you insist on knowing this place…”

 “Yes, I’m still a capable adult,” Cameron added.

 “This place is much bigger than what you have experienced. It is called…Safe Haven.”

 (“Salvia here. For the next few minutes, I described the magical protection and the origins of Safe Haven that I had already verbalized in the introduction narration. Feel free to go back if needed but let’s skip and continue on.”)

 Cameron stood, jaw dropping. “Oh my God! There really are monsters out there?!”

 “Do not worry,” said Salvia. “As long as you’re here, you should be safe. I’m hoping you’ll get more used to this place and not cause the magical barrier to eventually collapse.”

 “I’d never do that!”

 “Not intentionally. But someone else wants to make sure that happens.”

 “Who is it?” Cameron asked, but Jackie stood in the way, much to the annoyance of Cameron and Salvia.  

 “Thank you Salvia,” said Jackie with a nervous chuckle, pushing Cameron along, “But we better get going! Heh, heh! So many things to see.”

 Salvia gave Cameron a knowing apologetic look before going back to her book.

 Moe shushes followed them out of the library. “Whew, I can speak again!” Jackie boomed as they entered a hall with brass walls. Jackie’s voice echoed off the walls. “Echo! Echo!” Cameron flinched and grit her teeth.

 “On with the tour!” They passed through another archway flanked by torches and five golden rings overhead. “This is the Sports Wing!” said Jackie as they walked down the hall. “Here you’ll find our gymnasium, our pool, outdoor courts and dance studios.”

 Cameron looked through a glass window at an indoor basketball court. The court walls were decorated with vines. A monkey was busy swinging from the vines with his tail, dribbling a basketball in his hands. A bear, a bull, a ram, a goat and a chipmunk were stomping around, trying to get the basketball. The monkey dunked it into a nearby hoop as a zebra coach blew his whistle.

 Outside in the courtyard, a few lions were practicing fencing while a fox and a hare did gymnastic tricks on bars. Several cheetahs raced each other along a round track and a black bearded centaur hopped over hurdles along the way. A dog and a cat were busy playing hand ball. A few hyena hybrids snickered as they taped a “kick me” sign on the back of a student with peacock feathers.

 In a swimming pool, a boy with shark features and a girl with blue scaly skin laughed as they raced each other down the lanes. A woman with swan feathers was preening herself in a hot tub as several male ducks peered for a closer look. A mermaid relaxed beside her, staring at her reflection.

 Several brightly colored werewolves were listening to blaring electronic music in the weight room as they lifted barbells and rapidly punched hanging bags. A lone black-wearing vampire stood in the corner drinking dark red liquid from a bottle. The boxing ring was currently being used by bi-pedal boxer dogs.

 “Too much sweat and exertion for me,” Jackie mentioned. “I’m more for the grace and beauty of the theater! Onward!”

  They soon left the Sports Wing and headed through the arch with the grandfather clock.

 “Here is the History Wing!”

 They walked around what looked like a museum, with a variety of items on display. There were ceramic pots from ancient civilizations within glass boxes all around. Various paintings were hung from the walls, with signatures. Several weapons were on display further back. Among the weapons were a few that glowed white with swirls and crosses.

 “Oh, those are angelic weapons. They are highly valuable and rare. It is said that they can kill any demon in Hell.”

 “Why not use them to fight off the monsters?” asked Cameron.

 “Good question. Some demons gather the weapons and sell them on the black market for later use. They kill each other off, causing lots of chaos. Heaven’s been using the Exorcists who wield these weapons to eliminate demons each year for centuries. Archangel Adina’s idea to insure ‘purity’ up there.”

 “How do you know all this?”

 “A friend of a friend of an ex told me. Horrible stuff, I’m telling you. Best to lay low and stay safe.”

  They continued onward past treasure chests, antique clothing and various art of mythical creatures in battle or passionate embraces. Exiting that wing, they turned toward another wing made of metal.

 “Ah, the Science and Engineering Wing! Perhaps the most confusing and loud section there is. Try not to touch anything!”

  It was indeed very loud. Clanks, hisses, bangs and booms permeated through the rooms. Cameron had to cover her ears as she followed Jackie. In one area, raccoons, cats and a few dwarves were working on a metal machine that bellowed smoke and sparks. It had wheels, engines, pipes and canvas wings on either side of it. “Primitive flying car” was labeled next to it. A gopher was working on a computer as green 0s and 1s blinked down a screen. A few other students were taking notes on a steampunk blimp made by a snake inventor of the Industrial Revolution.

 There were also several dimmed laboratories illuminated with teal blue fluorescent lights. Blue flames flickered under Bunsen burners while students peered through microscopes at their ant friends. A blue anglerfish man was pouring colorful contents from different vials together, snickering. A mad scientist in a lab coat was instructing one class on how to make a serum that could strengthen the DNA of animal hybrids.

 “Let’s move on,” Jackie coughed, swiping away the nearby smoke.

 They exited the wing and had arrived at the vast bustling cafeteria.

 “The heart…erm, stomach of the campus!” Jackie joked.

  Rows of white tables hosted hungry students and staff. Several birds were slurping up bowls of worms. Werewolves were munching on raw meat while horses chewed casually on hay blades. There was also regular food for the more human-like beings as well: salads, sandwiches, soups, potatoes, tacos, casseroles, stews, banquet style meals, fruit desserts and ice cream. There was even a stand giving out spectral food for ghosts. Like many college eating areas, there were various sections serving different kinds of dishes like a miniature food mall. It was an all-you-can-eat paradise.

 Cameron’s stomach grumbled as she inhaled the scents of exotic foods. But Cameron soon led her out and back to the main lobby.

“And now, for the best and last part of the tour…” she led Cameron through the wing with red curtains. Rusty and another spotted animal watched them go from the top of the stairs.

 “This is the Arts Wing!”

 Jackie held her arms in the air as they walked down a hall. The walls were red and decorated with spirals. A poster with a comedy and tragedy theater mask shone within a frame of lights. There was a red “Just Dance” poster and a green movie posted with a clawed black hand labeled “Now showing: The Ded.” There was a painting of a waterfall and a nearby forest.

 Cameron looked around. “Oh my, never woulda guessed…”

 Jackie laughed. “Hahaha! Sarcasm! I like you Cam!”

 They stopped by the dance room and pushed open the double red doors.

  “Baby! I got someone for you to meet!” Jackie trilled.

 A man with the same colored skin as Jackie, clapped his hands. A group of girls, Mia and Ava, Penelope and Camilla were in pink tutus and ballet slippers doing practice.

 “Okay girls! Once you’re warmed up…Jackie!”

 The man turned around and beamed.

  “Oh god…” Cameron looked in disgust.

 The man wore a vibrant red pinstriped suit with blue vertical stripes on it. His bow tie was yellow with red and blue dots on it. His hair was mostly red with a white spot to the left side and blue tips toward the bottom back. His hair also resembled parrot feathers. He currently wore dark blue pants, pointed black shoes and a pink tutu. He also had a gold tooth.

 He leaned into Cameron, his eyes golden yellow.

  “Salutations senorita! Name?”

 “C-Cameron.”

 “Soopity, doopity to meetcha! My name is Alanzo but call me Al! It’s shorter!”

 He also eagerly shook Cameron’s hand before hugging his wife.

  “Heh, nice to meet you,” Cameron began. “So what subject do you…”

  “Dance!” Alanzo explained with a flourish.

 Jackie chuckled nervously, guiding Cameron out of the room. “Well honey, we gotta run. Got a lot of school to show!”

  “You do yer thang, gal!” Alanzo said with a snap of his fingers.

  “So he was…” Cameron began as they walked out of the room and down the hall.

 Jackie smiled. “That was my husband. We both work in this wing!”

 Jackie showed Cameron more rooms.

 “And here is…the Art Room!”

 Addison and his adoptive Indian snake mother Latika were busy painting on a canvas. A vivid painting of a flying phoenix hung in the background.

  “The Music Room!”

 Calvin, a yellow crocodile with a black and yellow back with squares on it, played a tuba, which matched his color scheme. A smiling brown fox named Christopher played a white saxophone with blue swirls on it. A black porcupine named Priscilla played a black cello.

 Dodododo do-do-do-do…they played a cheerful tune that sounded like Gooseworx’s two Zoophobia themes. (Look it up on YouTube!)

  “The Film Room!”

 A white and gray wolf twin (Leonardo or Vincent) held onto a fire hydrant with a joyful expression as a fan blew him back. A green screen was in the background. A cheetah, a gray-haired student and the other wolf twin looked at a screen in bewilderment. Another guy with a black hat, flinched from the force of air.

  “Why do the animals have giant fans?” asked Cameron.

  “Guess they got a bigger budget!” Jackie exclaimed.

 “But why?”

  “Their last film almost did win at the festival,” Jackie pondered.

 At last, they entered a vast auditorium.

 Jackie spread out her arms. “And here is my domain! The Theater!”

 Cameron glanced down at a group of figures sitting on the stage.

 “A-are those your students?”

 Jackie wiped a tear from her eye. “Yep! They are my little prodigies!”

 Then she trilled in a sing-song voice: “Good afternoon my sparkling little turtle doves!”

 “Hey Jackie!” the students harmonized in song.

 To Cameron’s bewilderment, an orange fox named Spam, peered at her from atop her head…then licked her face randomly before scampering off.

 Spam, Penelope, Jack, Makenzie, Zillion, Kayla, Sahara, Daimon, Taylor and Vanexa were all there.

 Penelope wore a stylish white dress and a teal headband with two peacock feathers on it. She was currently admiring herself in a small hand mirror. Mackenzie the cat girl had messy red hair, pale skin and a lavender shirt with a cat on it. She saw herself as a cat after being raised by her equally cat-loving mother Margo.

 Jack was a light brown jackal with a worn down body and droopy ears. Zillion was a mix up of creatures and had yellow skin, purple eyes, purple antennae-like ears and a small green snake for a tail. Taylor was a guy with red sclera eyes, light brown hair with purple sides, and he wore brown clothing. He and Zillion were currently locked in an arm wrestling match.

 Kayla the beautiful kangaroo was Zillion’s girlfriend; she was happily perched on top of the black grand piano. Sahara was a dark skinned woman wearing a pink head scarf over her dark hair. She had an affinity for magic. Behind her was a darker colored jackal Damion, with red pupils, black sclera and wearing tattered clothes of red and black. Finally, Vanexa was a purple bi-pedal cat, reading a book with a disinterested look on her face. She viewed those around her in a detached annoyance.

 ‘These are her students?! Just more magical freaky animals?! How crazy can this world get?!’ thought Cameron.

 Zillion pinned down Taylor’s arm, much to the latter’s annoyance. “Who’s your friend, cracker jacks?” he asked Jackie.

 Jackie put an arm around Cameron. “This here is your new guidance counselor fellas!” Cameron awkwardly looked off to the side.

 “Oh good!” Jack and Damion called at the same time.

 Damion smirked sarcastically, “I need a lot of ‘guidance!’”

 Cameron walked over and pointed at Zillion. “Um sorry, I hate to ask but…what exactly are you? I want to know how scared I should be…”

  “Well I…” Zillion began to explain but Jack snickered with a “Kekekeke!” from beside him. Zillion glared at Jack.

 “Pass,” Zillion deadpanned. “Not even I know what I am.”

 McKenzie sniffed Cameron for a moment, then let out a “Hiss!” It was her habit among strangers. Cameron flinched in confusion.

 Damion chuckled and leaned toward Cameron. “You really got your work cut out for you, lady! Just sayin’.”

 Cameron stared at him. “H-how are you floating like that?”

 Damion grinned. “Oh well it’s because…” He turned on a flashlight under his face and bared his fangs wide, his eyes swirled stripes of red against black. “I’m the Antichrist! Hahahahaha!”

 Cameron almost felt like fainting again.

  Jack inched closer to Cameron with an apologetic look. “I’m really sorry about my cousin!” He smiled and clutched her hand. “Hello! My name is Jack! And I would like to schedule with you as soon as possible!”

 Cameron raised an eyebrow. “Uh, okay?”

 Jack let go. “Sorry! It’s been a while since I had someone to talk about my problems…”

 Clang!

 A stage light fell down and collapsed on top of Jack. He fell to the floor in a heap. A pool of dark blood was visible on the floor around his head. One of his paws had an exposed bone. Cameron covered her mouth in fear and shock.

 “Aw man! Not again! You okay dude?” Zillion asked in concern.

  Zillion turned to Cameron. “Yeah, this happens a lot. He’ll be alright.”

 “Hey, Jackie! Another light fell!” Taylor called.

 “I saw it!” she answered.

 “So Cam!” said Jackie. “Do you wanna stick around for the class?”

 “I’m sorry to say…I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed,” Cameron breathed in almost a whisper.

 “Understandable, hun! Vanexa, would you mind escorting Cam to her office?”

 The purple cat nodded and led the way, book in hand.

 Jackie turned back to the class and clapped her hands. “Alright guys! Showtime!”

 They soon reached a pair of wooden doors underneath a sign that read “Guidance.”

  “T-thank you. V-Vanexa was it?” Cameron asked nervously. Vanexa did not answer. There was an awkward silence as they looked each other in the eyes. They each seemed to be trying to decipher the other’s thoughts. Cameron coughed.

 “W-well…yeah…good evening to you, talking cat…” Cameron stuttered.

 “Enjoy your stay,” said Vanexa before she walked back down the hall.

 0 0 0

Cameron slammed the door shut behind her, catching her breath. Her office was small and dimly lit with a few books on one shelf to the left. A palm plant was off to one side and blinds were in the center of a yellow wall. In the center was a desk with a couple chairs and “C. Walden” on a label. A pink gift bag lay on her desk with a bunch of strange items inside; a pink flower with yellow tips, a green dragon figure, and what appeared to be cosmetics. Cameron read the tag on the gift: “Dear Cameron, Welcome to the Family! Z.P.A. Staff.”

 Cameron smiled slightly at the thoughtful gift.

 Cameron was reminded of Mrs. Winkler’s office…and then was reminded of home. This small space didn’t feel much like home.

 “How are you coping with things thus far, Cameron?”

 Cameron whirled behind her and spotted Zechariah the cheetah.

 “Holy mother of…please d-don’t do that…”

 “My apologies,” he said.

 Cameron sighed. “Yeah…well all things considered…” She slide down onto the floor, overwhelmed.

 “I’m sure this is a lot to handle,” said Zechariah.

 “Yeah…”

 “This place will take some getting used to, Miss. Miss?”

 To Zechariah’s surprise, Cameron was sniffing and sobbing, burying her face in her knees. This was not how Zechariah imagined the newcomer would feel.

  “I am truly sorry this has happened to you, Miss,” Zechariah said empathetically. “I wish there was more I could do…”

 Although stern on the outside, Zechariah had a sweet and protective heart. Being a staff member had gotten him exposed to more human emotions. As the ZPA staff had welcomed him during his arrival to Safe Haven, it was no wonder that he went out of his way to try and do the same for others.

 Zechariah nuzzled his furry face into Cameron’s like a comforting cat. Cameron didn’t flinch this time. In fact, she cried and wrapped her arms around the cheetah. She didn’t care that he wasn’t a regular human. She just needed something…someone to give her comfort. Someone to let her know she wasn’t alone in this strange new world. Zechariah’s warm soft chest felt good to Cameron…like a comforting blanket or a pet. Zechariah stared in brief surprise, before closing his eyes and embracing the gesture. Cameron reminded him of when he had been a young cub, trying to find his place.  

 Cameron’s animal-loving side from her childhood briefly came back…before it faded with the moment of their separation.

 “There is…something you may like to see,” mentioned Zechariah in a soft voice. He had an idea. “This way, Miss.”

 Cameron followed Zechariah up the stairs and into the observatory.

 “W-what’s up here?” Cameron asked.

 Then she looked skyward and gasped.

  “Oh my god…”

 Shimmering in the starry night sky were glowing yellow koi fish floating in the air. They had yellow skin, glowing white eyes, white lines and spot designs across their bodies. One large fish had a yin-yang symbol on its forehead and was as big as an airplane. Their fins were transparent and flowing gracefully like they were angel wings underwater.

 “These are guardian fish spirits,” said Zechariah. “The Fish of Peace. They appear when everything is safe. Similar to the butterfly orcas, used to calm anxiety.”

  “How…how’d you know I like fish?” Cameron breathed. “This is…beautiful!”

 ‘Salvia’s magic of course,’ Zechariah thought.

 Zechariah purred. “Welcome home, Miss Cameron.”

 A magnificent ocean-colored whale swam by among the fish, decorated with bioluminescent spots along its back.

 For several minutes, the two of them stared in wonder at the ethereal spirits. Cameron felt like maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad after all. Especially with her new furry friend and mentor.

 Then a question spilled out of her mouth.

  “So…where am I going to live anyway?”

 One of the fish in the sky turned a deathly white and took on yellow and black stripped eyes. She peered closely at Cameron. “And so it begins…”

 0 0 0

 One day later, an earth-colored griffin-like creature named Skoni pulled a cart of packages around the street. He sang the “Mail Time” song out loud:

 “Here’s the mail

It never fails

It makes me want to wag my tail

When it comes, I wanna wail

Mail!”

 He stopped and knocked on Cameron’s door.

 Cameron cracked open the door of her new small home. “Y-yes?”

 “Package, ma’am!”

 Cameron took the package and stared at Skoni. He suddenly appeared to be sprouting eyes all over his body…

  “Get away monster!” Cameron cried, waving a bat at him.

 Skoni looked taken aback. “You just arrived yesterday, lady! I’m here to deliver your mail! Gaah!”

 “Demon!” Cameron yelled, squirting hose water in his face.

  “Fine!” Skoni scoffed. “Have a nice day!”

 Cameron blinked a few times and saw a regular pouting Skoni trot away. “Oh you were just delivering the mail again... Sorry!”

 Eris (or “KayCee”) laughed as the Skoni illusion replayed from her golden apple. She ate a sub sandwich in the darkness. “So let’s get this party started then, shall we?”

Chapter Three: “Jack’s Counseling Session”

Cameron’s first test of her new career began several days later. Jack had mentioned that he wanted to get an appointment with her as soon as possible. And by sheer luck, his desire was granted. (However, he had to deal with several shoves from Rusty, slipping on a banana peel and tripping on the sidewalk several times on his way there.)

 Cameron glanced at a long list of confidential session notes provided to her by Salvia for the week:

 Client One: Jackson Wells. Concern: Daily bad luck.

Client Two: Addison Woods. Concern: Trauma from experimentation in Xirxine labs.

Client Three: McKenzie Payoray. Concern: Daily bullying and coping with feline lifestyle.

Client Four: Damion Beelzly. Concern: Proper educational environment.

Clients Five and Six: Zillion Martinez and Kayla Christling. Concern: Anniversary troubles.

Client Seven: Vanexa Pierce. Concern: Solitude and fitting in.

Client Eight: Camilla Jimenez. Concern: Dancer, hopeless romantic, doesn’t like her rep.

Client Nine: Autumn. Concern: Increase self-worth.

Client Ten: Tom. Concern: Break up with Addison and stealing souls.

Client Eleven: Daphne Dafadellia. Concern: Being less judgmental toward men.

Client Twelve: Rusty (Call him by his real name Reuben, he hates it). Concern: Bullying issues.

 (Don’t mind my mind reading.)

 Cameron smiled as she stood on a chair and hung up a sign on her office door that read “Ms. Walden. ZPA Guidance.”

 She placed a small green tree in a pot on a side table, hung up a blue poster of two fish that read “Just keep swimming,” and placed a golden dragon statue on a side table as well. Her desk was polished and had a label on it with her name. She stepped back and observed her handiwork.

 “Mhm! Much better!”

 She glanced at her watch and sat down at her desk, arms folded in front of her.

 ‘Okay, you can do this,’ she encouraged to herself. Her heart jolted when she heard a knocking at the door.

 Jack peered into the room.

 “Um Ms. Walden? I’m uh, here for my session…”

 “Oh yes! Jackson, good morning to you,” greeted Cameron. She mentioned to a purple beanbag chair on the floor. “Please take a seat and we can get started! Hope you don’t mind bean-bags…”

 Jack settled onto the bean-bag, enjoying the comfort. “Naw, they are actually really nice, heh…Also I, um, like what you did with the new room! It’s very humble!”

 “Thank you!”

 Cameron placed a hand under her chin with a sheepish grin. “Yes I’m…very thankful to Zechariah for letting me change rooms. I kinda have a weird connection with my surroundings. The old room was just a little too intimidating on first arrival…”

 “Yeah, I understand what you mean…” mentioned Jack.

 Cameron cleared her throat. “So! You are my first official counseling session here at Z.P.A.! Is there um, anything bothering you at all that you would like to talk about? Anything!”

 Jack stuttered, already beginning to feel a sort of crush for her. Cameron had appeared so nice on her first day and he figured maybe she could ease his current situation a bit. “Umm…well…I think for things I tell you to make sense…I have to kinda fill you in a bit about...myself...and my “condition,” or well…my curse…”

 Jack then explained his origins.

  “You see…my parents were extremely close…according to my mother. And when she got pregnant with me, they were very excited. But…before I was born, my father was killed in a very freak accident. My mother was devastated by it. In desperation, she turned to her sister. My aunt Narissa, who…well is married to the devil…as creepy as that sounds. She begged him to make a deal but as a gift to his wife, he granted my mother her wish. To give her unborn child the gift of eternal life…But the devil’s magic works in very odd ways…so his gift was really a curse. When I was born, he cursed me with immortality…along with a supernatural affinity for bad luck…and, heh…thing is…I still feel pain…”

 He barely remembered himself as a pup, flinching in a grass bed as Lucifer’s long dark finger shot a bolt of hot magic through him…burning him to his very core.

 His mother was grateful she didn’t have to worry about him dying, but was concerned about the bad luck.

 Jack glanced off to the side. “So, um, yeah. Not being able to die on top of the very crazy, often violent things that happen to me…with the pain…it um…yeah…not fun.”

 Jack looked at Cameron in concern.

 “You okay, Miss. Walden? I’m sorry if my story is a little strange…”

 “No…” Cameron replied. “I’m just…still getting used to hearing about the…supernatural things…and the devil being real…”

 Cameron continued. “Phewww…I am very sorry for your situation, Jackson. It sounds…simply dreadful. What else would you like to share about your hardships? I can tell there is a lot you have to tell…”

 Jack twiddled his thumbs. “I really hope you don’t mind me talking a lot about myself. I just think it’s a good idea to fill things in.”

 “No Jack, it’s fine,” Cameron encouraged. “It helps to know these things!”

 “Yeah, I’m sorry, it’s just…been a while since I explained this stuff. I don’t often tell people about the curse anymore.”

 “Why is that?”

 Jack buried his face in his hands as he explained.

 “Well because…It just gets hard explaining it over and over to people…why so much crazy stuff happens to me, around me. And the moment I mention that it is an actual “curse,” people immediately get sacred to be around me. I can’t really blame them; they don’t want to get hurt. But…sometimes I don’t really like it. I don’t like people avoiding me out of fear. And I don’t like people thinking I’m making it up for attention!”

 Cameron was reminded of how many people with disabilities felt similarly about having to explain their conditions to other people who didn’t experience them. Some had trouble walking or controlling their bodies. Others felt chronic pain or experienced constant negative thoughts in their heads. Their disabilities were things they were born with and had no control over. Similar to Jack’s bad luck.

 Jack continued. “It just gets a little stressful sometimes, plus some people think I’m pretty…well, weird ‘cause the whole curse thing and my luck has made me pretty superstitious. It really doesn’t help how people see me with all my behaviors and, um, customs. Heh. (You’d feel the same if you noticed me with four ladybugs on my ears, four leaf clovers and a dreamcatcher around my neck, a rabbit’s foot and dice hanging from my legs and me holding a cricket in a cage. Trying every good luck charm imaginable to counteract the bad. Of course, nothing works.) Most people here kinda avoid me for the most part just seeing what kind of stuff happens and finding me odd.”

 “Do you have any real or close friends, Jack?” Cameron asked.

 Jack brightened. “Oh yes! I have a few. And honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without my best friend Zill…”

 “I think I know him…in Jackie’s class, right?” Cameron asked. “What creature is he anyway?”

 “I have no idea! I’m not sure he knows either. In fact, he always seems confused about it.”

 “He doesn’t know?”

 “I don’t think so!”

 “So how long have you known Zill?”

 “Since I found him! About thirteen years now,” said Jack.

 Cameron appeared confused. “I…I’m sorry, you ‘found’ him?”

 “Yeah!”

 “What do you mean by that?”

 Jack chuckled a bit. “Oh heh-yeah sorry, let me explain!”

 Jack then explained the next part of his origins.

  “I was born in Safe Haven’s animal district. It’s a kind and more natural environment, so my upbringing was more ‘traditional,’ I guess. My mom never really explained my curse to me when I was younger. I just thought the world was against me and that she didn’t even care. So I ran away from home a lot back then. I just felt I had to escape somehow.”

 “It was never much help, but I seemed to kinda enjoy the time away from her. I remember the last time I ran away, I was like five, and during a really foggy rainy night, I took shelter in a tree. I heard some growling in the forest. It was really scary at the time, cause most animals in the district respect private boundaries, plus I was young too…heh. I heard this creature emerge from the bushes. He approached the entrance to where I was hiding. His eyes were glowing green. I had never seen anything like him before and I was extremely scared. He was just really curious of me I think, but he behaved much more…well bestial than what I was used to. He was like…well, an ‘animal,’ which was new for me. Most animals in the district can still speak universally! Especially upon first meeting.”

 “Zill was extremely wary of me and I was just terrified! But really he was just extremely curious of me. Unlike me, Zill was just unafraid and bold! Also surprisingly unfazed by my curse. (He put back my broken arm like it was nothing.) In fact, for the first time, I had met someone who not only was unfazed by it, but he actually…intervened! (After water poured on my head from a leaf, he used his wing to keep me dry.) So really, Zill meant a lot to me, almost right off the bat.”

 “We actually kinda lived together in the forest for like a full month, getting to know each other as friends. He didn’t talk to me at first, but when he started to talk, he only spoke Spanish! Which was like jibberish to be…heh. So the language barrier was still there, yet we still understood each other somehow. After a while I decided to actually bring Zill home with me! My mom was beyond happy I was back. But she actually didn’t take very warmly to Zill.”

 He remembered going along with Zill, with his mother being worried that Zill might harm him. He then told his mother that he didn’t need constant protection all the time.    

 “How did Zill get his name?” Cameron asked.

 “Oh! Well, he spelled his name for me in the dirt while we were in the forest.”

 Cameron listened with intent curiosity. “It’s interesting he was so intelligent, despite living in the forest!”

 “Well I mean lots of intelligent animals live in the wild! But I understand what you mean. Zill did come off as pretty primitive at first.”

 “So did you two live together?”

 Jack nodded. “Actually we did! For a little while before we officially started school! Zill was with us through the move to the city district. During those first years, I taught him how to speak English. (Notecards with pictures and words on it were helpful for us. He’d read words like “apple” and lots of food terms to start off with.) By the time we did first start school, he was already decently bi-lingual! A lot of other kids would call Zill names and stuff cause of how he looked. But he never let it get to him though.”

  “But when I was picked on…”

 Jack remembered Zill admiring a butterfly before he was knocked to the ground by a hard dodgeball to the face. Rusty the bully dog laughed after Jack had fallen.

 “Haha! Take that you wimpy loser!”

 Zill growled and his eyes flashed green. He shot a flaming dodgeball back at Rusty which hit him in the face with a “wham!” Green energy glowed around his hand.

“Zill didn’t take kindly to that. Neither of us ever really found out how exactly his ‘powers’ seemed to work, but he had a lot less control back then.”

 A young Kayla rushed over to Rusty. “Oh gosh! Are you okay?”

 But Rusty just elbowed her away, causing her to fall with an “oof!”

  “Get off me you dumb girl!”

 Zill growled in anger again.

 “Zill has always had issues with people who bully or attack.”

 Kayla stood up, furious. She separated the two boys. “Stop! No more! I’m fine,” she told Zill. “Both of you! No fighting! This is a playground!”

 Rusty scoffed at her. “Get out of my way or I’ll beat you up too! I’m not afraid to hit a dumb girl…”

 Kayla then smacked him hard in the face with a “pow!” before he landed flat on his back. Kayla let out a “hmpth” and strolled away. Zill instantly admired her courage and feistiness.

 “Zill met his girlfriend Kayla on the first day of grade school,” said Jack.

 Cameron gasped. “Oh my! They have been dating for that long? Oh how sweet.”

 Jack shook his head. “Oh, no, heh. Zill didn’t get with Kay for a while. Through most of school he was…well, um ‘loose’ with girls. Flirting with them, showing off his strength and dazzling them with his charm. Many teen boys are like that. He always had genuine feelings for Kayla, but he never had the guts to go for her. He just didn’t think she’d be interested.  Which I guess was understandable. He didn’t have the best rep with the ladies, growing up. He was a party animal…heh, sorry.”

 “But! He used to love to sing! And had a knack for it! So I suggested he try out for the school musical once we entered Z.P.A.! He scored the lead alongside Kayla in the show! (I remember them getting a standing ovation at the end. Zill wore a purple suit and hat while Kayla wore a cross necklace and a blue and white dress.) And that was when they really got to know each other! Once they really got together, Zill really slowed down on his party lifestyle. It was interesting how much of a change there was. But! I was really happy that he had found such a stable relationship. Plus Kayla was a wonderful girl honestly!”

 Jack faltered. “But once he started dating…like I said, our relationship kinda, I dunno, changed…”

 ‘”Our relationship changed?’ How so?” Cameron asked. “Was he just less close as a friend?”

 Jack stuttered slightly. “Um, well! I mean, maybe I said that the wrong way. It was just…so hard to explain! He just suddenly had so many friends and attention once he changed with Kayla. I guess I just missed a little of the constant we had before he had such a serious relationship. I’m just a little worried that the way things might progress…”

 Tears came to Jack’s eyes, his face glum. “That maybe he…eventually won’t need me as a friend…I’m sorry, it’s a dumb worry…”

 “No Jack,” said Cameron. “When a friend starts to change, or befriends other people, it’s normal to feel worried about where you stand. But I’m sure if the two of you are as close as you say, you will never grow apart!”

 “Yeah?”

 “Ya know, we talked a lot about Zill. Why don’t you tell me more about yourself! Do you have many other friends?”

 Jack pondered in thought. “I think that’s why I have this insecurity. Like I said before, I only have a few friends because people are scared to be around me, understandably.” He remembered getting his head sawn off, a beehive landing on his head and getting attacked by a green sewer monster.

 “I have one other really close friend but I rarely see her.”

 “What about your family?” asked Cameron.

 “My family?”

 Jack thought of Damion the troublemaker teen jackal, Lucifer and his jackal wife Narissa, Tentradora the succubus pink cyborg nanny and a blue demon guard named Major Styx. (Grumpy Major Styx wanted Damion to be his submissive love servant and Tentradora was very “touchy-feely” and overprotective. Narissa kept to herself and Lucifer was very prideful as a goat-like demon.)  

 Jack explained, “It’s complicated. I think deep down I love my family, but they do just remind me directly of my curse. My mom Mindy used to take me to visit my uncle and aunt a lot.”

 “Your uncle? The devil?”

  Jack sighed. “Yeah…”

 “I felt very alone when I went there. To Hell. That side of my family has nothing in common with me. Plus when Damian came along he just became a constant pain. Sorry if that’s mean to say. My family makes me look out for him a lot, so I tend to get frustrated with him often. Anyways, even though it was pretty stupid, I decided one day to sneak out of the palace just to clear my head. Hell outside of the protection of the palace gets pretty dangerous. But I kinda stopped worrying about my own physical well-being. So my carelessness caught up with me, and a demon attacked me!”

 “A one-eyed, stripped giant monstrosity! It had two slender legs and a tail…and a large maw under its red glowing eye. Yeah, I guess it was pretty freaky. Dangerous situations tend to shock me more than actually scare me. But then Jill showed up.”

 Jack remembered a purple cat demon leaping into the air and stabbing the monster with a triangular bladed scythe. After several deep stabs and Jill slicing off its hand, the monster tumbled down to the ground. Jack watched with fear and awe against a rock wall.

 “Jill?” asked Cameron. ‘Jack and Jill…’

 “Yeah!” said Jack. “I figured I was on the subject of my only close friends. Jill is definitely one of the most important people in my life…heh. She saved me. Besides Zill, she was the only one who ever protected me. Jill and I started spending time with each other after that. She was a stray demon who spent a lot of time fending for herself against other demons.”

 Jack added, “Sorry if it seems I’m jumping around too much. I get carried away.”

 “It’s fine, Jack,” said Cameron.

 Jack continued. “Anyway, I loved spending time with Jill. She was rough with everyone but with me, she was so soft. Her hugs were the best! I snuck out to hang with her during every Hell visit, and as we got older…”

 Jack let out a forlorn sigh. “I guess nothing really stays the same.”

 “I encouraged her to test herself to be a member of the royal guard. She passed the test with flying colors and was accepted to live in the palace! Lucifer gave her a black collar with a red diamond gem on it to mark her new status. I was so proud of her! She ended up head of the royal guard. I was so happy because we would be able to see each other more often. But then she met this guy she worked with. And kinda…ended up spending more time with him than with me. Which hurt a bit. I had always hoped we would stay close…maybe even get closer.”

 “So you had a crush on her?” Cameron asked.

 “Well, I crush easily,” Jack answered. “I’m happy she found someone though. She deserves that. So does Zill. I just get lonely...”

  After a few sad moments he muttered, “I’m sorry this took a turn. I don’t want it to seem like I’m complaining about the fact they are happy. I hope that’s not what it sounds like.”

 Cameron stared with empathy at Jack. “Jack, it’s fine. I can tell you are a very emotional person, and it’s normal to get lonely in your situation. But I really think you’ll be able to find someone for you in time. And talking about these feelings are the point of counseling. So no need to apologize. You seem to talk very highly of others. What about yourself?”

 “This event was…not a highly moment...I…there was one time Damion locked me in a locker for a whole week. All because he didn’t want me to tell Zill that he had missed Kayla’s anniversary. S-since I couldn’t die, I was just trapped inside my head…starving, deteriorating, not knowing what time it was. It felt like I was dying again and again in a nightmare. By the time someone found me and unchained me, it had been one week later. Took me a full day of fluids to recover, even though my body regenerated itself. It may sound strange to you but…I wanted desperately to die in those moments.”

 A chilling silence permeated the space.

 “Sometimes…I wish I hadn’t been born. I wish that dad hadn’t died. Then my mom wouldn’t have been so obsessed with keeping me alive. It feels like Hell much of the time. Sometimes I blame her, wishing she could experience the curse through my eyes. Other times I blame myself; what did I ever do to deserve…”

 A few books randomly toppled from a shelf and hit Jack in the head. “…this?” He groaned and rubbed his head.

 Cameron looked at Jack with a somber expression. “I’m…sorry you had to go through that. And regarding your curse…no one should have to go through anything like that. I guess death isn’t the worst thing in the world…”

 As Jack sobbed and sniffled for several minutes, Cameron walked over and gave him a comforting embrace. Jack breathed deeply, face blushing. Even after Cameron let go, he still felt her warmth and kindness. He wiped more tears away.

 “S-sorry…”

 “It’s okay Jack.”

  “Besides the curse and all the negatives. Tell me about Jackson,” said Cameron.  

 “Me?”

  “Yes! Your interests? Goals? Hobbies? Things that make you happy. Anything!”

 Jack thought hard about it. “Um…well let’s see. I play the drums! I play the drums while Spam does guitar and lyrics. Kayla and Zill sing and play piano and Vanexa helps too. I also, um, work part time at the Safe Haven observatory. I really love space. Just everything about the universe and its infinite vastness fascinates me! It’s inspiring. I love studying astronomy and science.”

  “Oh!” Cameron exclaimed with joy.

 “I also love to cook! That’s my favorite hobby! I don’t have many people to cook for, so I usually take food to the foster home, the same one that took Zill in for a while. I’m still deciding which path I’d like to take for a career, being like a real chef or going into astronomy.”

 Jack continued. “Next year is my final year at the academy so I need to decide soon what my final major will be. I’m still able to take plenty of classes for both, though!”

 Cameron was very pleased. “Well! Well working at the observatory and being able to exercise your culinary skills gives you a good way to sample your career options. I’m sure you will make the right choice and have a successful career, Jack!”

 Jack smiled warmly. “Thank you, Ms. Walden. Thank you for listening! You’re more attentive than the last counselor.”

  “Well that’s what I’m here for!”

  “So…are you still scared living here after the past few days?” Jack asked.

 Cameron glanced off to the side. “Well, uh, ya…I mean…I’m getting used to things. Talking to you wasn’t scary. You are very kind and not frightening at all, past the fur. Which alone is surprising but there are a few people here who don’t scare me as much. So thank you! For not being scary. Is there anything else you’d like to talk about in this session?”

 Jack stood up. “I think that’s enough for this time. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

 He opened the door and looked at her one last time with a smile. “Thanks again, Ms. Walden. Welcome to Safe Haven!”

 Cameron waved. “Take care, Jackson!”

 As Jack was walking down the hall…

 Slam!

 Rusy slammed him into a locker and he slid to the floor. Rusty barked in laughter, leering over Jack.

 “Watch where yer goin’ wimp! Heh heh! You gonna cry or what?”

 “No?” Jack whimpered.

 “Yeah you are! P*ssy! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

 Rusty laughed as he strutted away. Jack made his way to the observatory as the setting sun turned the sky a salmon pink. He spotted a blonde man wearing glasses and a blue suit with a tight white collar.

 “Hey Dan!”

 The man smiled. “Jack! You’re early! It’s barely dark out!”

  “Yeah. I feel like coming in before my shift to relax a bit. Can I go up?”

  “Of course! Nobody is up there right now.”

  “Thanks Dan!”

 Jack slipped on a blue uniform and climbed up the stars. He made it to the top and his eyes grew wide in wonder. Yellow ethereal koi fish swam and glided across the starry night sky. The spotted bioluminescent midnight blue whale traveled beside the fish as well. The city lights and the greenhouse globe buildings illuminated the night in their spectacular vivid glows. One building was pink, the other a faded golden yellow. Jack became transfixed by the spirits. For the first time in a while, he felt hopeful and positive.

 Jack smiled and sighed contently as he gazed dreamily up at the Fish of Peace. “It’s never lonely at night.”

 Despite the bad luck, Jack knew he wasn’t alone. He had Zill, Spam, Vanexa, Jill, Kayla…all those who cared for him. His bandmates were the ones who helped save him from a monster, and it led to him being more tolerant of his curse. Zill had tried to “save” him multiple times by deflecting the bad luck events but Jack didn’t want him to get hurt. Instead of exhausting themselves to try and stop the curse, Jack’s friends helped pull himself together (literally and figuratively) and were simply there to support him after the bad moments. Although some of them were often preoccupied with lovers, they would always come back for Jack. For he was the silent supporting stone of their bonds.

 And now he had Cameron…a loving mentor…and perhaps a new mother-like figure in his life. Although he had a crush on her, it was not solely romantic. It was mixed with feelings of appreciation and friendship.

 Jack felt at home with himself for the first time in years. Because he realized an enlightening truth: not even a curse could keep his friends away.

 0 0 0

 Zechariah was busy jotting down notes at his desk when Cameron entered the room.

 “Z-Zechariah?” Cameron asked.

 “Miss Cameron!” Zechariah greeted. “Did your first session go well?”

 Cameron smiled, pleased to have helped out Jack. Helping others made her feel truly at home for the first time. “Actually, it really did!”

[ladybugsfanfics]

One “Wrong” Turn | Peter Parker & Stephen Strange

Pairing: none, just the spiderling and the sorcerer bonding ^_^

Style: One Shot (might write more later??)

WC: 2.2k

Warnings: mention of a very sad death :((((

Summary: @lifeonthesideoftheangels​ said: “Ok but now that Tony’s gone, until it’s proven otherwise its cannon to me that Peter just casually hangs out at the sanctorum after class and Strange pretends to be annoyed at first but secretly enjoys having him around and starts teaching him everything he knows. #also Wong constantly comes in to Peter just hanging upside down from the rafters reading one of the ancient books and Strange levitating and is like “yo I’m about to go get dinner, you guys want anything?”” - og post

A/N: so this took longer than expected but also i love this duo and i might write more later but im not sure yet. hope you enjoy ^_^

if you want to be tagged in future fics, please send an ask ^_^

| My Masterlist |

Peter never intended to take a wrong turn, or a right depending on how you see it. That first time, he just walked with that lump in his gut that had been lingering for forever. He walked, choked up because it had been his first day back to school and all everyone could talk about was the blip (seriously why is it called that?). And all Peter could do was try not to choke up, try not to let the tears run as he heard Tony’s name.

When the bell rang and they were free to go, Peter didn’t hesitate to get out of there. But instead of the usual survey of the neighborhood and trying to find a way to impress… well, the person he wanted to impress wasn’t there anymore. 

So, he wandered. First, he went the usual way home, but he took a turn sometime before the apartment and wandered straight. Exactly why he walked so long, he didn’t know. Where he ended was in no way on the way home, and checking his clock, he had walked longer than he thought. 

The building he stood in front of was big, three floors tall. Windows lined the orange brick walls, but they were impossible to see through. And the only reason he knew he was at the right place was the giant circular window at the top of the building. Brown lines in the glass created something that hinted to an H but with two strikes through the bottom. Peter wasn’t sure what exactly the symbol was for, but he hadn’t talked much with Mr. Strange to know either. 

With a deep breath, he knocked on the door. Or, he tried to knock, but instead the door opened and he kind of stumbled in trying to regain his balance. The first thing he saw was a set of stairs, and down those stairs, levitated Mr. Strange. Peter gulped at the sight, seeing as the man probably did not want him there. 

“Mr. Parker,” he said, “what may I help you with?” 

Peter shook his head. “Uhh, Mr. Strange, I―”

“Doctor Strange.”

Peter frowned and the sorcerer gestured for him to continue. “Uh, I just walked, like real far, and I’m not sure why I came here but I… I don’t want to go home.” 

“And therefore you came here?” The man raised a brow, but Peter still couldn’t read more of his expression. “I guess this is a hard time for you. May I offer something to drink?”

“Really?” Peter’s eyes widened. “I don’t want to intrude, but…”

Doctor Strange shook his head. “Today, only.” He turned around. “Follow me.”

Peter happily obliged. 

At the top of the stairs, Strange took a right and Peter followed after as fast as he could. The hallway ended in a kind of common room area, where Peter stopped, unsure of what to do. And only sat down as Strange told him to. 

“I’m not gonna be a therapist, I’m more of a surgeon actually, but do you need to talk to someone?” 

Something cool to the touch appeared in Peter’s hands. He looked down to find a coke in his hands, and he glanced weirdly up at Strange. 

“Would you like something else?” the man asked. 

Peter shook his head. “No, no, this is nice. Thank you.” He took a sip, only to down the entire bottle as he underestimated how dry his throat really was. In fact, he should’ve drank water, but he didn’t want to say anything. As he put down the bottle, it refilled and his eyes drifted wide-eyed between the bottle and the Sorcerer in front of him. 

The sorcerer clapped his hands. “Now, please feel free to do homework here, and leave me to do my own work.” 

“I don’t have any homework yet. It was the first day of school today.” 

Strange sighed and shook his head. “Well, you can still leave me to do my own work.” And then the male disappeared. 

---

How long Peter sat there, bored and staring into nothingness, he wasn’t sure, but eventually, he decided to explore a little. He found that the floor he was on was mainly living room space. There were bedrooms, more than one kitchen, or there might only be one but he got confused, and the common area he had been in. At some point, he found a set of stairs that took him into the third floor. 

It was here his curiosity spiked. Everywhere around him, there were bookcases filled to the rim with books. Most didn’t really gain his attention as they were all rather dusty and old, but he figured they were probably all interesting if you wanted to learn. He walked around, and a lot of the things there did not look like magical artifacts, but he suspected they were. 

Most looked like everyday things, like the radio that got his attention. It looked rather old, but maybe it worked. He was about to put his finger to it, when a voice echoed in the room, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Peter whipped around to find Strange levitating a few meters away, a book in his hand and a quick glance up at Peter. “Does it work?” asked Peter. 

“Well, if by work you mean it will kill you after one touch, yes. If you mean that it works like a radio, no.” 

Eyes wide, Peter turned back to it once more. “Really, it kills at one touch?” he asked. 

“I wouldn’t try if I were you, but yes, it should.” Strange let out a chuckle behind him. 

Peter nodded. His feet padded over to the next thing that caught his attention; The massive circular window with the double striked H. He turned to look at Strange. “What does this mean?” 

The man levitated over to where he stood. “It is called the Seal of the Vishanti,” he replied, “or the ‘Window of the Worlds’. I wouldn’t expect you to know, but the Vishanti are three god-like Principalities who each exist in their own realm. The Omnipotent Oshtur, Hoary Hogarth and Agamotto the All-Seeing. Together they act as one to empower the magical spells of sorcerers, throughout realities and dimensions, who invoke them. It also protects the Sanctum from a series of threats.”

“Oh, that’s so cool,” said Peter and studied the Seal further. “Are there other cool things here?”

Doctor Strange smiled fondly. “Plenty.”

---

The Sanctum bathes in sunlight that filters in through the windows. Silence has taken over the room, only broken when a page turns or a sigh can be heard. 

Peter hangs from the rafters, sticking to them upside down and turning the pages of one of the books Strange allowed him to touch. He doesn’t understand half of the words he sees, but the pictures are fascinating and he wishes he did. 

He would ask, if it weren’t for the fact that the sorcerer with the answers is levitating across the room, eyes closed and doing something that looks like meditation. As Strange gotten cozy as that, he’d given Peter a very sure stare of ‘do-not-disturb’. Of course, the man had also said to be left alone for at least an hour. 

However, that hour isn’t up yet and Peter has been going through the same book for so long he’s getting kind of bored. He closes the book again, as carefully as he can, and drops down a little to place it on the table underneath him. The thud it makes as it hits the table has him glance to the levitating man, but it elicits no reaction. 

With a sigh of relief, Peter moves around. He knows not to touch anything (or he knows he might die if he does), so he only studies them from afar. But nothing fascinates him long enough to keep his attention, and there are only so many artifacts in the room. Nor does it help that none of them have a description plaque as they do in museum. 

Peter slings around a little more, careful to not use big movements and accidentally knocking something down. Though the thought does cross his mind as the minutes tick by increasingly slower. 

His hazel eyes skim the titles of the books. Nearly every title reads as Book of something. Book of Fire, Book of Demonicus, Book of Shataki, Book of the Vishanti. He finds the fact there there exists something called the Necronomicon (which he thinks has to do about necromancy) highly interesting. Also, The Scroll of Eternity sounds like something he would like to read, though he has no idea exactly how to. 

In the end, as Peter gets to impatient, he gingerly―with a glance to the sorcerer whose eyes are still closed―takes the Book of the Vishanti from the bookcase. After hearing more about the three deities behind the Seal, he wants to know more. Surely, Strange can’t find his interest bad, maybe annoying, maybe a little concerning, but definitely not bad.

Back in the rafters, Peter lets his fingers run along the edge of the book. It feels ancient; rough binding that’s probably only so because it’s old; worn back; papers half sticking out, darkened by the years it’s existed. The cover has the Seal of the Vishanti on the front. It pokes out, feels metallic and cold under Peter’s fingers. 

Opened, the book seems to grow in size, heavier under Peter’s touch. The pages of the book aren’t as worn as they looked before he opened it. A light brown, resembling a coffee stain, creeps its way in from the edges, and the paper itself is a darker, less white shade. On the front page, the Seal of Vishanti greets him again, almost weighing him down. 

Peter placed the book into the middle of his left palm, making sure it’s balanced well so he doesn’t lose it―that would be catastrophical. With his right hand, he turns the pages. Nothing interesting at the first few, much like the usual books he reads. 

Turning the pages, he doesn’t actually seem to understand anything of this book either. He notes some of the words, tries his best to understand them together, but the context makes no sense. To him, it’s just a bundle of words. 

But he does find it entertaining. Making no sense, the book itself just become some lame joke. And Peter laughs, in a way he sees as ‘quietly’. 

Understandably, it is not that quiet. Strange, where he levitates―his hour has to be up soon, right?―peeks open an eye and glances at the smiling spiderling hanging upside down on the ceiling. Peter’s senses tingle to the onlooking eye and he turns to look at the sorcerer. 

“Which book?” comes the deep voice from across the room. 

Peter holds a finger where he is and shows Strange the cover. The Seal being easily recognizable, Strange smiles slightly, which has Peter frown. 

“Good choice,” the doctor says, “but you have no idea what it means, do you?”

He shakes his head. “No, uhh, it’s funny, though.” 

Strange nods, and―Peter is not sure how because the movement doesn’t really exist―levitates to where Peter hangs. “I believe that.” He takes the book from Peter’s hands. With slender fingers, he files through the pages and lands on one in the far back―did the book just gain pages? 

“Here, this should amuse you.” Strange hands Peter he book, a finger pointing to one of the passages. 

Peter takes it. His eyes land where Strange’s finger points. The lines look rather blurry, the pages far more worn here than at the start―odd. He reads one sentence, a smile on his face, and then the next. 

But he only gets halfway through before footsteps are heard. Both Peter and Strange shoot their heads up and look at Wong as he enters the Sanctum. The man raises a brow at the two, both high up in the ceiling instead of the many chairs they could have taken. 

The bewilderment doesn’t last long. “Yo, I’m about to go get dinner, you guys want anything?” Wong asks, his eyes glancing between Peter and Strange. 

Peter’s eyes widen and he nods frantically, nearly dropping the book―thank god for quick reflexes. “Yeah, I’m starving,” he replies, “what’re you getting?”

“Thinking pizza, just to make it easy.”

Water fills Peter’s mouth as he thinks about the many good pizzas it’s possible to eat in New York city. He nods, even more frantically than before. “I would like three, thank you,” he says. 

Both Strange and Wong frown at him. “Three slices?” they ask. 

Peter shakes his head. “Three pizzas.” 

Despite that being a lot of food for one person, the two sorcerers only shrug and nod. Wong looks to Strange, “and you?”

The man takes a deep breath. “Sounds good.”

Now it’s Peter’s and Wong’s turn to stare quizzically at Strange, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Wong shakes his head and rolls his eyes in Peter’s direction, making the teenager try to hide a smile. 

“I’ll be back soon.”

Peter wishes it’ll be here now. There are two sorcerers in this building, can’t they just magic the pizza?

permanent tags: @devilbat @adefectivedetective @gamillian

[icarus-imagines]

Yusuke Kitagawa X Gay!Artist!Shadow!Reader

I have a request a Yusuke X Gay!Artist!Rival!Reader

Pwettty Pwease OwO

Word Count: 2,765

Category: Persona 5

~Choose What Your Heart Decides~

Why is he talking to her?

You couldn't help but let a sour expression invade your face as your (E/c) orbs secretly watched the scene in front of you unfold from your desk by the window, where you had been previously doing your homework until you heard their voices engage together.

It was Yusuke Kitagawa, the handsomely gifted painter you admired so much who was conversing with a friend. But he wasn't the one who had turned your mood foul. It was her. His friend.

Ann Takamaki.

A sweet, kind, and a very compassionate girl who always looked good in everything she wore. A well-known model. She was most beautiful, but undoubtedly not more beautiful than the calm and poetic specimen she was having a conversation with.

Though very attractive to many of your male peers you would never be attracted to her in such a red colored red. You knew if you had been born to love females like God had intended, or so people preached, you knew you would have gotten a troublesome crush on the girl. But that wasn't the case.

You had feelings of red for Yusuke.

Though color red was an odd way to explain it, you felt it most appropriate to explain it in such an elegant way, just like Yusuke was. You and he were one in the same, both paid terms. But unlike him, you were not known to be one. The reason being you had an anonymous name. (A/n). You didn't want people to know you because you were scared. But that was a sad note not wanting to be touched.

Stashing away the easy Calculus homework you had been working on you sighed lowly slinging the bag on, forgetting your sketchbook on the desk. While doing so you fixed your hair a bit from the tiniest OCD, making sure you're shiny locks of (H/c) were perfect and not out of place.

Taking a few steps forward you began to make your way out the door. Even though school ended about 10 minutes ago you stayed to finish the homework like a good student. Yusuke didn't go to this school but often visited after the bell to speak with his friends. Not that you were a stalker, but you had witnessed it multiple times since you sat behind the silent and mysterious boy named Akira Kurusu and his best friend Ryuji Sakamoto. And it was weirder that Akira for some reason had a cat in his desk and bag at all times. Yet nobody noticed. You thought you may have gone crazy contemplating on if it was real or not.

Shaking your head to rid yourself of the thoughts you continued on your way, noticing you had slowed while thinking. You almost stopped in your tracks as Yusuke's silky voice traveled to your ears. But the words he said sounded like long nails on a chalkboard. Horrible and unsettling.

"Takamaki-san, I must remind you that you still have not accepted my request. Surely you will make up your mind and readily agree to become my model for the next masterpiece I plan on creating?"

"Tch," Was all that escaped past your (Plump/Thin/Etc.) lips not waiting for Ann's response to such a generous and thoughtful question. You didn't hear the words exit her mouth as she agreed.

To imagine a beauty of a woman posing in various positions, whether they be innocent or lustful you had no idea, but in front of Yusuke. He would have to gaze at her body for hours, maybe even longer!

Leaving the classroom to calm yourself by walking home, you missed the confused looks of Akira, Ryuji, and Ann. But more importantly, you missed the saddened and very puzzled expression belonging to a certain boy named Yusuke who realized you had forgotten to take your sketchbook. He would have to find you and give it back if he ever had a chance to.

~*~*~*~

Yusuke sighed once again at his teammates as they tried to figure out where to go next. They had been tracking down a tainted aura through the other world known as Mementos wondering what the individual was after.

They noted it that it would actually stay close to them. But disappear as they approached to close. So they decided to use a different tactic. I stead of following the actual Shadow, they would find its so-called nest of sorts. It's home. Usually, they wouldn't work this hard at finding a Shadow, but this one seemed a bit stronger. Some kind of Mini-Boss.

Walking for a few minutes they came upon a house. It was a pulsing red, with red roses scattering the front lawn with its vines scaling all around the house. They even trailed through every open window, including the door that was also open, to the center of the house. It was as if it was tiny. They had been correct. This Shadow was stronger than normal. It seemed to almost be on the verge of creating a castle and them wouldn't let that happen. Not when they were so close.

Careful of the beautiful but dangerously sharp crimson roses that all seemed to ooze out from within their petals mahogany liquid thick like blood, Yusuke gazed at the house with confusion. It was familiar. Like he had seen it before. But that was utterly impossible. But...he had to make sure.

Turning to his comrades, The Phantom Thieves, behind him who were peering at the roses on the ground with a mix of fascination and bewilderment he spoke to them.

"I would like to investigate further inside, alone. If that is alright," he said simply watching as the eyes behind each mask of his friends looked at him with confusion. He just replied, "I'll explain later, if that is alright, leader?"

Akira stood there for a few seconds weighing the pros and cons before giving a small nod of approval.

Yusuke bowed his head the slightest bit thankful. "I'll be quick."

Yusuke turned to the house, knowing that if it was not in Mementos it would have a small garden in the front and very cozy. Pushing the door he entered the home. Instantly the hairs on his body sprung up. It was cold. Something was here.

Taking a few cautious steps he entered a hallway. But stopped seeing paintings of every size imaginable with varying emotions swirling within each canvas. Not only did he perceive this as an artist himself, but it was easy to figure it out because it was literal. Each painting was moving.

The light ones were merrily filled with laughing, dancing, singing, and anything of the like. While the darker, more saddened paintings were filled with crying and depressed scenes depicting fears. Fears manifested from the artist or just plain inspiration was beyond Yusuke.

Shaking his head to rid thoughts of the sad Shadow he looked to the end of the hallway freezing as he saw it. Standing in front of the door at the end of the overly long hallway. It was him. The Shadow.

Yusuke's face behind his fox mask dropped. He knew who was and it tightened his heartstrings.

It was you.

You wore your normal school uniform. You (H/c) hair perfectly styled, just like always Yusuke noted fondly. But you're eyes. Yusuke cringed at the color. Instead of familiar (E/c) he was used to gazing into, even when you didn't look back, was now a dull yellow. Such an ugly color on your visage.

This time though you were staring straight at Yusuke. Unlike other Shadows you were silent. Hands straight at your sides but shaking slightly. You were nervous. Scared maybe. Of me?, Yusuke thought. It seemed like it.

Yusuke turned to pop his head out of the door to look at his teammates. "Nobody is present. Maybe they are around the area and we should split up?" he offered. They looked at him curiously, but since he never lied or tried to ever deter them in any way they agreed. Splitting up and searching. But Yusuke stayed behind, closing the door before walking back to the hallway.

His eyes widened a bit seeing that you had disappeared. But he was quick to see you had disappeared behind the door, evident from it is slightly ajar.

Careful as he walked slowly down the long hallway Yusuke glanced at the many paintings on each side of the hallway. The roses with vines trailed along the walls, even the ceiling, and floor. All growing thicker and wilder as they trailed into the room. And he noticed with surprise there was thorns. The ones closest to him were dull and short, but the closer he got to the room they grew longer and much sharper.

Placing his palm on the door he pushed it open, cringing slightly at the small squeaking of the ominous door. Peering inside he was taken aback by the scene displayed before his eyes.

The roses were even more wild, spiraling to the bed in the back. Thornes creating a small barrier at the base. And there you were. Still nonspeaking and it looked like you had been crying, obvious from the tears slowly running down your porcelain face as you sat silently on the sheets of the bed that were satin and shiny.

Yusuke drew nearer, walking over the vines that looked to be steadily beating like that of an actual heart. Stopping mid-way through watching curiously as you froze in shock. You had thought he had left you alone to wade in your river of sorrows.

Yusuke leisurely walked towards you, careful as not to scare, as he sat down beside you. Resting his hands on the bed, leaning back, he closed his eyes wondering what you would do. It wasn't long before he heard the bed sheets shift slightly and you're smooth voice enter his ears.

"Kitagawa-Ku-"

"Yusuke," he said cutting you off though he knew it to be incredibly rude and ungentlemanly. But he had to get it across you could call him by his first name. He did care about you. Turning to see you had now faced him, sitting on your knees he wanted to chuckle but instead, he revealed his face by taking off his kitsune style mask. "You can call me, Yusuke."

He watched as your an expression that was once depressed brighten instantly. A small smile flickering on it. "Yusuke...why are you here? Is it...Is it because you wish to steal my heart? To change it?"

Yusuke looked at you amused. Did you want him to steal your heart? If so he would do it in a heartbeat, pun not intended. His grey eyes that would, from somebody else's view look dull and not full of life, were gleaming happily.

"Do you wish for me to steal your heart?"

Your face flushed quickly, yellow eyes cast down now embarrassed. "If you want to...I wouldn't be against it."

Yusuke took off his bright blue gloves revealing flawless and unscarred skin. Discarding his gloves on a random part of the bed he brought his right hand up to cup your cheek. Your eyes widened slightly turning to stare at him.

"I am afraid to say I cannot change your heart, you have to do it yourself," he said his thumb caressed your cheek in a soothing manner. "You are the deep inner self of the one I admire."

"You," you started confused. "You admire me?"

Yusuke nodded confirming your statement. "I recognized your art in the hallway. They are the same as the new painting I've seen in the museum."

"You recognized them, even though I'm anonymous? I'm quite honored. Your art is beautiful, on a whole new level. Hopefully, I can become like you one day."

Yusuke hummed, sadness flitting across his face for a second. "Don't worry about becoming like me. Stay who you are and I'm sure you'll be a great artist. The same goes for your heart. Changing it is up to you."

You looked down once more then back up, leaning into his hand. Yusuke felt and saw the vines with roses start to pulse. Maybe it was somehow connected to your heart.

"I'll change I promise. I'll not only change for you, but I'll change for myself."

Yusuke nodded reluctantly removing his hand away from you and covering them both with his gloves. Standing up he turned to you once more, his mask dangling from his fingers.

He looked at you for a few seconds as you took this precious time to admire him. His hair was shiny. A brilliant blue matching his costume. Lithe in form with the beauty of a fox. A calm and collected individual with an intelligence like no other. An aspiring painter with skill just opening. How lucky you were to be able to get close to him.

He leaned down after a few seconds planting a chaste kiss on your forehead that would most definitely bloom into a brilliant flower. Making you think of something. Though it is clearly random.

"I should get a tattoo," you say simply taking him by surprise. But replied with a small smirk, happy at seeing you open up and say more. He could see it in the way your eyes grew brighter, even with the ugly yellow that still resided in them.

"And what will it be off, may I ask?"

"I'm thinking of a rose. Nothing big, just on my wrist or something," you said explaining why it wasn't just a spontaneous thought or decision. "Three roses. Pink, Red, and White. Do you think this is a good choice?"

Yusuke placed his hands on your shoulders putting his forehead on yours. His eyes close to yours gazing into them serenely. You could feel his breath fan your lips making you blush.

"It is up to you to decide what is right or wrong. Be careful what you choose," he said his presence leaving you. He turned walking to the door, but before he closed it, slipping on his mask he turned back to you with a sparkle in his eye.

"Choose what your heart decides, (M/n)."

~The End~

Fun Facts:

-In dreams hallways, whether they be long or short, are interpreted as the dreamer having untapped psychic abilities. In this case, it's the reader's art. They have not yet reached their full potential. Another interpretation is the frustration the dreamer has of being in a repetitive situation. The reader feels they have been this hallway for a long time being that they have always wanted to speak to Yusuke, but have never been able to walk the length of it. Always staying at the beginning. While Yusuke took the steps needing to reach the reader. In reality, not Mementos, the hallway is shorter. Making this dream real in a way-

-Rose tattoos have their own meanings. The obvious meaning of being love and beauty. But the color creates a deeper feel making the meaning of the rose richer and more unique.

The first color mentioned was Pink. Symbolizing healing, first love, and innocence.

Healing: The reader will heal from their past mistakes and jealousy.

First love: The readers first love is Yusuke. And vice versa.

Innocence: The reader is new to love. Young and vibrant.

The second color mentioned was Red. Symbolizing romance or passionate love. But they also represent sacrifice.

Romance/Passionate Love: The love between the reader and Yusuke is more of an innocent love, but it can sometimes be romantic and passionate. An effect from their artistic personalities.

Sacrifice: The reader has sacrificed their old ways to be with Yusuke. When there is the love you need a sacrifice. This proves the love you have for each other is genuine.

The third color mentioned was White. Symbolizing purity, mysticism, and a secret admirer.

Purity: The reader is pure when Yusuke is with him. Become pure.

Mysticism: Taken from how Yusuke talked to the readers inner self in Mementos.

Secret Admirer: The reader and Yusuke were both secrets admirers of each other. Though now it's out in the open~-

[thedistantstorm]

Keep On Rising (Until The Sky Knows Your Name) 14

Found Family | Zavala is Tower Dad | Father-Daughter Relationship | Childhood Trauma and Recovery | Canon-Typical Violence | Amputation

A story about how an orphaned Amanda Holliday comes to belong in the Last Safe City and the family she finds along the way.

(Or, the story of how Commander Zavala finds himself responsible for one Amanda Holliday.)

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

This time: Eva and Hideo and Holliday. A chain reaction.

-/

It doesn't take much to get the faction rep's attention. A few key words, some very pointed, hushed phrases.

"I know it is not a common occurrence," She tells the Speaker, who though she cannot see his face, she is sure he looks on with something akin to compassion and maybe amusement. He is a very intelligent man. Frighteningly so to most, but incredibly benevolent all the same. "But I cannot believe the orphanage would deny him without at least looking at his application. He might not be a member of the faction but I would think he does enough for them - and this City," She tuts. "I just feel so awful for him."

All of it is true, and yet she packages up that truth and tries to sell it like Tess does. The younger woman would be proud.

Hideo himself comes over. "Excuse me," He says politely enough, pressing his palms together like a prayer, "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. The Commander is trying to bring home a child?"

"I could not believe it either, dear," Eva gushes in her best impression of borderline senile. She isn't that old, she thinks with an internalized sigh, but it does the trick. "He told me he'd just gotten the application filled out and was going to tell her the good news, but they transferred her out of nowhere. The new facility won't listen to the old one, and you know how Zavala is. Wants to do everything the right way, even if it tears him up inside."

"That's horrible," Hideo agrees. "You said they denied him, though."

"Oh! I did," Eva agrees. The Speaker casually moves back to his observatory, his work done. "Did you know they require you to be a faction backer to adopt a handicapped child?"

"Well, I'm sure it's to make sure they have the financial well-being…"

"It's just so sad, Executor. This is Zavala we're talking about. The Commander always plays fair, and yet he's beating himself up inside because his position does not allow him to play favorites, even if he wanted to." She sighs, wistfully, watching as the man's hand came up to stroke his chin in consideration. "And the poor girl must be inconsolable. The bond between them is just… Those refugee children are so tough, and then this one…" See shakes her head.

"Let…" Hideo looks up to her, his dark eyes soft yet calculating. "Let me see what I can do. You said this child was handicapped? We support the most vulnerable members of our population. If this child is at one of New Monarchy's facilities, perhaps I can intervene."

Eva smiles a teary smile. "Oh, that would just be the most wonderful thing, dear." He calls over one of his men, who takes the information from her. After, she pats his hand, thanking him profusely for his kindness. 

"I'll see to this myself," He promises.

He returns to his nook, already issuing instructions. Eva hides her grin behind her hand, returning to her stall. For now, all she can do is wait. She can't imagine it will take very long for the Executor to set things to rights for his 'dear friend.'

-/

It takes the better part of a week. She knows because there are Consensus meetings that call away the majority of the Tower's top players, and when she checks in on Zavala, he still has that sad glimmer in his eye, but clearly others have started to notice.

Ikora is standing across from his desk, looking down at him with something Eva takes a moment to realize is concern. She retracts her hand from the doorframe, intending to return later, by nothing escapes Ikora's notice.

"Come in," The Warlock Vanguard says, not unkind and yet brisk om her delivery.

Eva knows better than to say no, and Zavala waves to an unoccupied chair in a non-verbal invitation of his own.

"Zavala informed me of the situation," Ikora tells her. "And that you've offered to assist."

"I have." She looks to Zavala. He looks older like this. "You need to take care of yourself. What if things happen quickly?"

"They won't."

"They might. This one put on quite a scene the other day." Ikora looks so sarcastic. Eva thinks it's a shame. She's such a beautiful woman, and so powerful too. Then, her eyes soften a touch. "My Hidden reported a rather interesting conversation, with the Speaker, no less."

Zavala looks to Ikora, but her gaze is trained on Eva's face. The youngest of them shrugs.

"Whatever was said," Ikora finally turns to Zavala, amusement lighting her golden eyes, "It certainly motivated the Executor. He was watching you throughout our meetings, and was clearly working on something besides that plasteel contract, considering he didn't even try to block the infrastructure proposal."

"Eva." His intense stare is intimidating, but Eva will have none of it.

"You underestimate my concern for you, my friend." She smiles warmly at Zavala's look of tired exasperation. "What was I supposed to do, let you mope for the next few months? The poor girl wouldn't hold out that long. Besides, all I did was give him some information. I didn't force him to do anything. For all I know, he hasn't." 

"That's very shrewd of you," Ikora says levelly. "That explains why Tess is afraid to buy you out."

Eva shrugs. From the Warlock, she suspects that's a compliment. "Thank you."

Turning back to Zavala, Ikora tilts her head to the side. "I can't imagine this not going in your favor. Even if I don't think it's the best of ideas."

"I think you might be surprised, Ikora," Eva chimes.

"The Speaker certainly isn't against it," She supposes aloud. "And you are miserable, so there's no doubt you're attached." She gives him a smirk that seems like more of a sad smile, the longer it stays on her face. "And above all, you are my teammate. My friend," She revises. The emotion seems to make her uncomfortable, Eva thinks. "I'll talk to Hideo myself, if need be."

"I can't imagine that ending well," Zavala deadpans. Ikora's lips curl into a predatory smile. The severity of Zavala's gaze lessens. "But I do appreciate the sentiment."

-/

A man comes to see her. He is wearing a color red just a little bit darker than her blanket, she can see it out of the corner of her eye. He didn't look like a doctor, but Amanda doen't trust anyone these days. The last time she answered questions for a doctor he'd told these people to come get her.

"You're Amanda, yes?" He pauses. "Amanda Holliday?"

She blinks to him listlessly and then turns her head back to the window.

The man sighs. She hears the sound of footsteps, the annoyed huff of the new matron, her sworn enemy. "She's been like this since we brought her in. The only thing we've gotten out of her is that she wants to go back to her old orphanage."

He tilts his head toward the matron, asking quietly, "The one just outside the Rich District, right?"

"Yes," The matron answers, not that Amanda would have spoke to him anyway.

Silently, she pulls her blanket up and around her like armor, still refusing to make eye contact.

The man steps a little closer. He can see the bulge of her stump, the small, swollen limb wrapped beneath the blanket.  "Did he make that for you?"

 Her fingers curl through the stitches, wary, but she tips her head, listening.

"For the Dawning last year, he gave me a scarf that’s nearly the same color. It's warm and cozy, much like that blanket."

She looks at him, then. Her eyes are dull, it's clear she thinks this is some game, because she all but looks right through him before looking back toward the window.

"I've known Commander Zavala for a long time," He continues. "We work together on many things. I heard from another friend of ours that he is very worried about you."

That certainly draws a reaction. She gasps as though she's come up for air, her seaglass eyes glossy with unshed tears, but focused. "H-" She clears her throat. "He is?"

"What? Executor-"

The child's stare narrows angrily on the matron for her intrusion. He can feel the force of her tiny wrath.

"Leave us," He says to the matron, who sputters but complies.

The man pulls up a chair to her bedside. She scooches back, clearly unsure of the newcomer, regardless of who he claims to know, pulling her blanket up to her chin. "Can he come visit me? I-if he'd wanna?" She looks at him in concern, balling her fists to keep them from shaking.

"Did he come visit you often, before?" The man's eyes are not unkind. It's clear, if nothing else, he feels sympathy for her.

"He sat with me at night,' She murmurs, sniffling.

"I see." The man crosses his right leg over his left, slouching comfortably. "I don't think he knew you were moved," He tells her. It's a safer line of explanation than the truth, considering what the matron had told him when he arrived about her meltdown. "I'm going to see him shortly, and I'll make sure he knows he can come to see you any time he wishes."

She doesn't answer him, hugging the blanket to her tightly. Her closed off posture and behavior are not going to wavier, he can tell. Thus, he does not linger, rising without another word.

When he gets to the doorway, she drawls after him, "Ya promise?" 

Hideo turns back. "Absolutely."

[consulting-celiac-in-the-tardis]

21 Easy (and Cozy) Self Care Ideas to Practice this Winter

New blog post! Now that winter is making days shorter, colder and darker, it's more important than ever to make self care part of your regular routine. And I'm not talking about the Instagram #selfcare that requires fancy bath bombs or expensive lotions. I'm talking about 21 easy ways that you can get cozy and relaxed this winter, whether you're a college student like me, a busy mother of two or a full-time worker with a demanding job schedule.

Some of these self care ideas may seem obvious, but others may surprise you - and many of them are scientifically-backed ways to tackle stress. So regardless of how busy you may be this holiday season, check out these 21 ways you can add more self care into your holly, jolly life.

1. Make yourself a warm, welcoming drink.

On cold winter days, it probably feels natural to reach for something cozy to warm you up. If you're really looking for help relaxing, though, fill your mug with tea. Research has found that drinking tea can help lower people's stress levels. Plus, it can be pretty dang delicious! (If you have celiac disease, just make sure it's gluten free).

2. Watch a sappy holiday-inspired show or movie.

Sometimes, we don't need an award-winning movie or TV show to enjoy ourselves. At least a few times this winter, embrace your silly or sentimental side by watching a bad Hallmark movie or bingeing your favorite holiday baking show. (And if you eat chocolate while doing it, that's obviously worth bonus points).

3. Go thrifting for cute and comfy winter clothes.

Updating your wardrobe for winter doesn't have to hurt your wallet. Instead, make looking for comfy hats, mittens or scarfs a fun adventure by hitting up your local second-hand store.

4. Be your own masseuse.

Massage has been shown to reduce people's physical tension and mental stress - and if you have a chronic illness or chronic pain like me, a good massage is always a good idea! You don't need to hire a high-end masseuse to reap some of these benefits, either. Give yourself a massage instead by rubbing your own muscles while lotioning up after your shower or using a tennis ball or foam roller to break up any knots and tension. Pair this massage with a relaxing bubble bath and you have the makings of a perfect self-date night.

5. Set aside extra time to read a book, just for fun.

I know that winter can be a busy time with friends and family, but don't forget to set aside some alone time in your schedule. Add a good book into the equation, and your quiet night in will be extra enjoyable.

6. Bake yourself something festive!

Besides getting to eat a delicious pumpkin or apple inspired treat, you'll feel nice and cozy when your kitchen is warm from the oven and smelling like the holidays. (And if you need some ideas for gluten free pumpkin desserts or baked goods, try out this recent round up of mine!).

7. Walk it out (outdoors or at a local gym).

Depending on the weather where you live, going for a walk outside might not be an option. Even if you have to go for a walk inside, though, your brain will still thank you. Research has found that exercise can drastically improve people's mental health, and even just walking will lower how often people have "bad days."

8. Take up a new, indoor hobby.

And if being outdoors is realllly not an option, starting a new hobby that takes place indoors is ideal. Start putting together puzzles, learning how to cross-stitch...or even practicing rock-climbing, like I did last year! Who knows - you may end up finding a hobby that you love doing year-round.

9. Try out hot yoga.

Because there's no better escape for winter weather than a relaxing, mantra-and-stretch filled session of hot yoga.

10. Light one of your favorite candles.

More research still needs to be done on the benefits of aromatherapy, but science seems to suggest that certain scents can help us chilllll out. Find a scent that you enjoy, like lavender or peppermint, and experiment with burning different candles and seeing which smells work best for you!

11. Purge your social media feeds.

You've heard of spring cleaning, but winter is another great time to set yourself up for a fresh start in the New Year. If you find yourself spending more time than ever on social media since it's too cold or dreary to go outside, pay attention to how each account makes you feel and ditch the ones that aren't doing you any favors.

12. Get crafty and let out your inner child.

Create a wreath to hang on your door, use colorful pens and papers to create homemade cards or just doodle in a notebook. These kinds of creative activities have been linked to improved mood and creativity the next day...plus, you might end up with some very cute gifts to give this Christmas. Win-win!

13. Pamper yourself with a face mask.

I've only started using face masks this last year, and the hype is worth it. My favorite is a simple mix of honey with cinnamon that I apply on "problem areas" for around 10-15 minutes before washing it off, but there are tons of safe (and even delicious!) face mask recipes you can find online. No fancy or expensive ingredients or products required. Plus, dry winter skin will definitely thank you for the extra TLC.

14. Dust off your crockpot and experiment with a new yummy recipe.

I know I've certainly been lax in using my crockpot lately, and it can be hard to feel motivated to start cooking dinner first thing in the morning. But your future self will definitely thank you for the little bit of prep you do earlier, and winter is the perfect time to whip up something warm and gooey. May I suggest my crockpot stacked enchiladas or vegan mac and cheese?

15. Throw a pajama party.

Whether you have a solo party or invite friends, spend a whole, blissful day hanging out in your PJs.

16. Do something nice for someone else. 

Acts of kindness have actually been scientifically shown to improve people's physical and mental health, so passing it forward this winter is actually a win-win. Donate to a local toy-drive, send a care package to a solider or pay for the next person's coffee in Starbucks. Little acts can have a big impact.

17. Start a gratitude practice.

If you're the journaling type, you can start writing what you're grateful for every day in a notebook. Otherwise, sticky notes or just thinking about two things you're grateful for each morning or night will still give you a positivity boost!

18. Set aside time to play your favorite "pointless" game.

Whether it's Sudoku, Words With Friends or a video game that you used to play for hours every day in high school, give yourself permission to just sit back and play for a little while. I know that during most of the year, I'm a major multi-tasker and anytime I do get to play a game, it's because I'm traveling or waiting to start another chore. So chillin' (pun intended) with my gamer self during winter is one of my favorite ways to relax.

19. Declutter at least one part of your house.

Along with purging your social media feeds, on days when cold weather keeps you in the house, you might try purging cluttered corners as well. Decluttering can not only improve concentration, but it can also improve your mood, lower your stress levels and give you a better night's sleep. And if you play your latest Netflix binge, favorite podcast or an epic holiday playlist in the background, you can make decluttering feel a lot more fun too.

20. Stretch yo' body.

At least for me, finding the motivation for a hard workout feels a lot harder when it's cold, dark and dreary outside. So on days when you feel like you're in a funk but don't feel up for a full workout, do some gentle stretches (even in the comfort of your own bed!) instead. It will loosen up your muscles, slash your stress and might even help you be more productive at work.

21. Choose a mantra for the upcoming year.

Obviously, you shouldn't spend all winter pining for spring...but it can't hurt to spend a little time reflecting on what you want from the upcoming months. In 2018, my word or mantra of the year was "discomfort." In 2019, it was "open." And while I haven't decided exactly what word I want to keep in mind during the start of a new decade, I think something similar to "change" will end up winning. What do you want to get out of this Spring? You still have some cold weeks to help you figure out your answer!

The Bottom Line of Self Care During Winter

As the days get colder and our social schedules get busier, it's easy to let self care fall to the bottom of our to-do list. I know from personal experience, though, that you can't run on empty...and when you better yourself through self care, you're also empowering yourself to be a better friend, family member, and personal overall! So this winter, give yourself the gift of self care rituals...and if you need even more ideas, feel free to check out my previous roundups: How to Create Your Own Self Care Retreat in 5 Easy Steps; 15 Self Care Activities You Can Do Without Leaving Bed; and 21 Self Care Activities You Can Do in 15 Minutes or Less! How are you taking care of yourself this winter? Give me more of your own self care ideas in the comments below! via Blogger https://ift.tt/2OKlqR3

[melforbes]

what's been your favorite part of writing seaglass blue? is there a part in particular that you couldn't wait to write? is there one you were avoiding?

to be honest i am 100% flying by the seat of my pants with this which right now is out of character so i haven’t exactly gotten to the dreaded parts yet lmao

i have an ending in mind (and a final line) that i really like but that i have a gut feeling no one else will like but i’m not compromising with it and i’m a little nervous to post that eventually. i’m not nervous about writing it but i don’t think it will necessarily come across well. Like it feels a little end of the sopranos but also it’s not like that at all but it’s the same existential vibe if that makes sense. which it doesn’t at all. but still

i actively avoid dialogue because it’s not my strong suit. i also can’t get the Mulder Voice right (deadpan snark etc) and then throwing in Big Feelings i’m just so out of my element

so far i shockingly haven’t dreaded writing any part of it. i did end up blocked with this last chapter because i hadn’t entirely decided what to do with the plot and the plot i’d thought through and didn’t actually use (and lmao have since forgotten!) just was not working at all so i didn’t write and instead did the whole running in circles thinking it through thing that isn’t writing (i recommend reading atomic habits by james clear ahaha! that running in circles motion gets a massive drag in there) that ultimately was never fruitful AND EITHER WAY i started a new drug for the other side of my life and it gave me wicked insomnia and at two am everything righted itself so i finally figured out where i was going. But that being said i never really dreaded it even though i oftentimes dread a scene or two in most chapters i write and i think the lack of dread comes from how it’s all set up in a very cozy way and it’s hard to dread something like that

i couldn’t wait to write the wedding which is why i dive into it so quickly. And i really wanted to interject parts of their “wedding night” or afternoon or whatever because those were my favorite moments to visualize. there’s another part down the line that i can’t wait to write but i also can’t spoil that haha. i think like...the most anticipated stuff i have coming up for the next chapter (or maybe the one after that depending on how the wordcount shakes out) is a specific conversation about specific things that happens in the dark. and uh i will not elaborate beyond that aldskjasldkjfdalsgj

my favorite part of writing it. this answer is so disjointed i’m sorry. i’ll put the rest of this under a cut because i’m rambling ahaha

my favorite part of writing it has been like...i think this is a multitude of things which is why i wrote msr again after a long unintentional break from it. idk if i ever really mentioned this (or at least if i mentioned it recently) but i started writing msr here in mid 2016 to rekindle my passion for writing while i was very very ill long term, and that culminated in the “everyday msr” archive i have on my ao3, which thus was a log of self-comfort in hard times as well as (unintentionally) documentation of how i neurologically healed during that treatment. so, bizarre. i was in a hard place back then and writing helped me keep my head screwed on straight, and luckily with msr you can write the shittiest things and someone will still be genuinely happy to read it and will look past any lack of talent or training or experience or anything and instead see you, someone having an idea and offering it to others, sharing something for the sake of feeling something good together. that (combined with my own personal gratification of having done something) really helped me emotionally during that time. like when you can’t be of service to anyone in the world, barely even to yourself, it’s really reassuring to hear “i was having a hard day today and this small thing you did eased me” and know that they didn’t need quality or exceptional talent; they just needed you to show up. i’m getting off topic but all of this is a roundabout way to say that i’m essentially back in that same place right now and have been for the past little over a year and like. It’s bullshit ahaha. like it’s absolute bullshit. But it’s strangely valuable to have this like...same connection as i had last time, just in a bit of a different way. it’s still msr, it’s still a kind of Happy Place for me, but there’s an overarching plot, i have other stuff that i write too, etc. but still, i appreciate being able to go back to an original comfort and form that comfort in the same way. the “everyday msr” stuff was intended to be just extended written-out headcanons about domestic msr post iwtb or post revival #1 that i could write in one sitting, and this isn’t entirely different from that; it’s just that the domesticity has a twist and a different era. but it’s the same stuff as before - pictures of misty places, gentle music, living based on the season, being a homebody, cooking for your lover, natural beauty. it’s nice to return to that place right now

another favorite part of writing this is that maine was an important part of my childhood. my family spent a week of vacation there each year (outside of bar harbor, not on mdi but right outside of it) and i kind of associate that purity with it. it feels like one of the only elements of childhood that i haven’t found adulthood corrupting. like we learn that disneyland is just a capitalist hellhole and whatnot when we’re older but maine hasn’t been ruined for me yet and i treasure that. And having them there feels special as a result. i very much on purpose didn’t label a town they’re in (or even base where they are on a real one lol all of that is glossed over enough anyway that i’m not worried about it) but it felt important and right for them to be in maine. it feels special to tap into the very brief time that i shared with the show while i was still a part of its cultural landscape. that sentence makes no sense. in other words i was born in 1997 ahaha. but either way like...i get to people this place that is already special to me and give them love and safety within it and that feels good in a way that i’m struggling to describe. And also i could go on some stupid rant about how Cell Phones Hurt Our Social Circles or whatever but i do genuinely miss rental houses that got 10 blurry channels on rabbit-eared tin foil televisions in a day and age when you normally got way more than that, all while you’re in an era in which boredom is still normal enough that all of that means “well, no tv for this week i guess!” and then you play a board game instead. it feels good to voluntarily create a place like that, then ask in my own life, why don’t i just live like this? And then to struggle through plotting something because there’s no digital numbing with television and smartphones and whatnot, and to understand my own hesitation, and to explore that a little more whether or not it’s in writing

another favorite part (yes i will in fact keep going!) is that the writing style is a little bit atypical from my current norm which allows me certain freedoms that i haven’t really opted for in a while. on the off chance that anyone has read any of my other recent stuff (though this is...a very small chance ahaha) it’s clear that these chapters are much shorter and less prose-heavy than my other stuff is, and that’s really helpful in that editing it is much simpler and writing it happens much quicker. if life were predictable and i had better self-discipline (and better health! can’t discount that one haha) then i could easily get a chapter out every weeks, in comparison to other stuff that i updated once every three months. i’m trying to keep each chapter to being about 3k in length (which they seem to naturally tend toward anyways, i didn’t create that metric so much as just went along with it) and there aren’t frequent “flashback sequences” (there are callbacks and past things brought up, but they’re not significant portions of chapters that go back and forth in timelines and make a nonlinear plot, the linear plot dominates and each scene is more or less in chronological order even if there are callbacks) so i’m not too worried about pacing or structure or anything like that. i never set out to make it “simple” i think it reads better this way and i appreciate that a lot because i can take a break from other stuff that’s a bit more jagged and just do this instead. it’s also nice to write something that i feel is more on the readable side than other things. i think my biggest inspirations for this (which i realized accidentally with the “he wants to brush her hair” line ahaha) were our souls at night and the sunlit night, both of which have a kind of dainty prose style and are a little low on long descriptions but can say a lot with one simple sentence. recently i’ve focused a lot more about darker subject matter and uglier parts of humanity so it’s nice to be able to focus on something that i feel like matters and has a more readable quality to it without actually sacrificing anything in the process or trying to dumb something down

so i think that’s it! that’s my thoughts! this is too long and far too personal! haha!

[no-error]

Just little more klance again

More klance fics ive read.

Remember read author tags! There are some triggers, smut etc. So read with care yes?

the missing part   

"I can hear your thoughts," Keith nearly whispered.Lance went pale, but that wasn't what Keith was focused on.  Because he could feel the horror creeping up inside himself as Lance heard his declaration.  Because he could feel his own heart skip a beat in time with Lance's.  Because he could feel the rejection bubbling up inside him as Lance frantically worked out what all this meant."Wh—what are you talking about?" Lance said, stumbling over his words even while his mind screamed clear as day please say you're lying just say you're fucking with me don't play these kinds of games with me—

In which the paladins are subjected to the unfortunate consequences of a broken mind meld program.

20,357 words   AO3

What a Healing Pod Can't Repair

The compromised wormhole was ripping apart at the seams, sending everyone spiraling away in completely different directions. Lance could feel himself being pulled and bent in ways he was definitely not supposed to be

Stitching the team back together after everyone is separated is difficult, and for one Paladin rescue wouldn't be coming for a very long time.

55,777 words  AO3

Silver Tongued

One way or another,

His truth they will learn

Although perhaps the message

For them, incapable to discern

14,848 words   AO3

I'll Walk on Water to Lend You Some Air

(I've Never Loved a Darker Blue Series not completed 29,895 words 2 works)

Keith comes out of a healing pod having no idea how he ended up in it. The other paladins won't fill him in but everyone is acting weird, especially Lance. Keith is determined to find out what happened but when another mission goes wrong, he may not get the chance...

11,403 words  AO3

Love & Cheese

He’s a teenage boy, in way over his head. He’s a college kid, delivering pizzas on a bike that his mom bought for him when he was twelve. He’s a media major, a movie buff, and a total moron who’s madly in love with the snooty heartthrob at the Deli, who always gives him an extra slice of cheese. He’s a trainwreck, a total lovestruck fool, and a hopeless romantic who always says the wrong thing.

But today, despite everything, his one true goal in life is to tell the cute Deli-guy, loud and clear, “It’s not Lucas, it’s Lance.”

115,421 words   AO3

nothing's quite as sweet

Keith is a barista who hates his job. Lance works at the cat shelter across the street.

50,369 words   AO3

can you tell me 

(Coffee and Crowns Series not completed 51,487 words 2 works)

Keith works in his brother's coffee shop for the summer, expecting a boring break before college. Lance changes all of that.

The boy is still in the front of the group, but he doesn't take off his glasses so Keith can't tell what he's really looking at -- either the menu or Keith. Keith feels a flash of annoyance but smothers it and pins his smile in place.

28,058 words   AO3

The Bet

Something about the casual way Lance spoke to him, with easy grins and direct words that made Keith feel comfortable, but at the same time put him on edge. Like he wasn’t supposed to be feeling this ok around someone, not him. Keith, who barely had friends until college, shouldn’t have someone who could coax him into such a sense of security that he found himself agreeing to do things he’d never thought he’d do.

35,847 words   AO3

of florists and tennis shoes

'Lance wasn’t sure if he’d imagined the brief tremble at the corner of Keith’s lips or not, that slight stutter that promised a smile. But before he could guess further, Keith gave his knee a shove and got to his feet. He reached out to him, “I’m done here, and I’ve still got some daisies to sell you.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed, looking down at the extended palm, noting the little Saturn tattoo on the inside of Keith’s wrist where the sleeve hiked. He took the hand, “better not overprice those too, you asshole.”'

63,783 words   AO3

Written on your skin

Keith is your typical troubled kid who's just trying to sort his life out. Things aren't perfect, but he's attending night school to get enough credits for university, he loves hanging out with Shiro and Matt on the weekends, and he's prepped to be the youngest member of his martial arts club to get his second Dan black belt. Things are looking up for Keith!

That is until strange notes start to appear on his arm.

They don't come off. At least, not when Keith tries to remove them. And they're written in handwriting that Keith knows isn't his.

So where are they coming from?

34,384 words   AO3

Unknown     (Series not completed 9 works, 123,151 words)

It’s been a few months since Keith’s dad remarried, leaving Keith at a new school with no friends, no mom, and no hope. The only thing that keeps him from going completely insane is Lance Fuentes, the charming, funny, and surprisingly intimidating boy that Keith’s been admiring (read: pining after) from afar since day one.After a bad day leaves Lance miserable and embarrassed, Keith takes a chance and uses the Garrison’s school messenger system to comfort him as an anonymous admirer named Unknown. What was supposed to be a one-sided message of hope turns into the strangest friendship in the school, and soon Keith finds himself closer to Lance then he’d ever dreamed he would be. But keeping a secret this big is hard--especially when a few chance encounters lead him to become friends with Lance in real life as well.Unable to explain to Lance that he’s Unknown, and equally unable to fade away as he’d first intended, Keith soon finds himself trapped in a web of secrets and lies. As he becomes desperate to keep his identity from being discovered, Lance becomes just as desperate to find out who Unknown really is. The question is, just how far are they willing to go?

82,141 words   AO3

You and I Collide    

Lance likes to sing in the shower.

Keith lives in the apartment next door and the walls are not very thick.  And you can bet when Lance wakes him up at 7:30 in the morning, Keith has something to say about it.

72,256 words  AO3

Follow My Lead

Becoming “hook-up buddies” with Lance Sanchez was just supposed to be a small, insignificant fraction of Keith’s life. But of course, things don’t work out that way at all.

117,792 words   AO3

A Sky Full of Stars

Lance's life is hectic between his civilian and superhero identities - that is, until his soulmate and a new villain arrive to town on the same day. What's more, this villain seems to have a few secrets of his own and it's possible that, whoever is behind that mask, may not be who he claims to be. Lance is determined to figure out just who this Red Paladin is.

63,596 words   AO3

Chivalry Is Dead

Prince Lance was an adventurer. That was all there was to it. So, when he's suddenly assigned a new knight to follow him around, all Lance can think is that his freedom is being taken away, and it's all because of the red-clad, mullet boy named Keith, who is honestly just trying not to lose his job on the first day.

61,071 words   AO3

Jealousy Thy Name Is Keith   A/B/O

Keith narrowed his eyes as he watched a large alpha lean close to Lance, saying something that caused the omega to bring a hand to his mouth and laugh as though it were the most dirty thing he’d ever heard.

Now that? That, was where Keith drew the line. He slammed the empty glass that had once contained alcohol, down onto the bar lined in purple neon lights, and made his way over to the omega, his friend, Lance. Keith draped an arm over the omega’s shoulders, smirking slightly.

14,268 words   AO3

Fated

In a world of magic, Lance is a wizard and traveling performer. He possesses a special talent, the talent to read the fates of those he meets, which he uses to bolster his act. Life is good, though lonely, until he meets a hermit wizard named Keith, and both have their fates changed forever.

11,283 words   AO3

fuckign witches

Keith Kogane wasn't really interested in the art of witchcraft until he found a small shop in the city - and it honestly was one of the best decisions he ever made.

38,111 words   AO3

just like heaven

Keith's got a second sight that comes with a lot of burdens. One is being saddled with banishing an obnoxious spirit haunting Hunk and Pidge's cozy San Francisco loft.

The other is dealing with said obnoxious spirit, a guy named Lance, who doesn't remember who he is, who his family is, or what he did before falling into a coma.

But with Lance's life on the line, the pair make a deal to figure out how to save him, and fast. Along the way, they find out fate tied them together in more ways than one.

37,784 words   AO3

Mr. Fahrenheit

Thousand of years ago dragons ruled the land. Burned shit. Caused a ruckus. Number one on everyone's shit list.

That stopped when Witchers, hunters of monsters and experts in combat and death dealing, arrived and drove dragons to the brink of extinction.

Now, less than a thousand dragons roamed the earth and Lance was one of them.

His new neighbor, Keith, happened to be a Witcher.

What could go wrong?

38,932 words   AO3

Arrest Me, Officer, I Dare You

"Stay still! Anything you say can and will be held against you." Keith said, voice firm. Blue's eyebrows shot up and his eyes crinkled in what Keith could tell was a smirk. The same smirk that made Keith want to punch him.

"Officer Kogane." Blue replied, the name rolling off his tongue easily. "Does that mean you'll be held against me? 'Cos I'd happily let that happen."

Keith is a police officer who seriously wants to arrest a certain blue-eyed thief.

Though, things don't usually go as planned.

37,619 words   AO3

[unholyhelbig]

Triple Treble Prompt - Chloe and Aubrey are vampires and have been together since as long as they can remember. But when they meet Beca, they can’t help but feel a connection and drawn to her. Both want to get closer to her, but there is two problems. One, Beca is best friends with Stacie Conrad, a hunter, and Jesse Swanson, a werewolf. Two, Beca doesn’t know that know the supernatural exists.

[A/N; I started watching the lost boys when I wrote this so part of me wanted to do the whole 80′s vampire thing. Anyway, this was a big prompt so I tried my best.]

Chloe drew in a careful breath, one that was easily calculated as she ran her thumb against the edge of the man’s jawline. Her touch wasn’t rushed or hungry, it wasn’t shifting as her hunger grew more. The scent was intoxicating, filling her lungs and burning her throat.

She let out a deep guttural growl, almost inhuman as she ran her tongue softly over the two puncture wounds she had created. She wasn’t messy anymore, not with her movements. It made the man shutter, his chest vibrating as he moaned himself. Not sure where to focus his pleasure as it mixed with pain.

“Chloe.” The sharp voice pulled the woman from her stupor. She shot her eyes open, not speaking, but inhaling with strength. “Get him out of here,”

She let out a groan, pulling back completely from the man. He had his back pressed against the wall, against the dry painted color that she despised in the first place. It was too plain for Chloe- but she knew her wife. She knew that too much would quell the blonde’s nerves. She could sacrifice a bit of color for her lover’s happiness. It was worth it.  

“It’s a little innocent fun, Bree.” She said.

The stranger had irregular breathing, his hand moving up to the wound on his neck as he clasped it with the intent of dulling the sting. The pleasure was intoxicating and well worth the random “hook up” that that entailed. He flashed his coffee stare to the woman who had just interrupted the meeting, her equally as stoic eyes scanning over him with mal-intent.

“Beca is coming over,” She squared her shoulders.

Chloe’s expression dropped then, her squint moving to the third party in the room. “Alright, man, time for you to leave.”

“What I-“ he didn’t’ get much of a chance to speak, Chloe grasping his shoulder as Aubrey opened the door, getting a quick and quiet dose of the night summer air. She breathed in softly, getting hints of his blood in her inhale. It was sweet but corrupted by alcohol, drugs, maybe. “Will I see you again?”

“Probably not,” Chloe said bluntly, slamming the slab of wood behind him as he stumbled into the hallway. She wasn’t sure how long he would stay out there, or if he would walk away in his haze. But at this point, it didn’t matter much. He was just a light snack, after all.

Aubrey wrapped her arms around Chloe’s shoulders with practiced ease, pulling the woman closer with contempt. “Oh, now, you didn’t have to be so harsh.”

“And so what if I am?” she said, lifting her chin. She had a bit of rustic red by the edge of her lip, so soft that it was barely noticeable. Aubrey lifted her hand, smoothing her thumb over the area as Chloe leaned into her touch.

“You’ve made a mess.” She breathed out, raising her thumb to her tongue as she cleared the blood from the pad of her fingertip, savoring the metallic taste that always needed to be appeased. “I think we should order some pizza.”

Chloe made a face. The scent of dripping grease and gooey cheese made her stomach churn. She could swallow a bit of it, and make it look like she wasn’t fighting her resolve. What was really appealing was the delivery person, tired from a long night work and susceptible.

“Stop it,” Aubrey warned, always the sensible one “Beca is human, and she needs to eat. Needs to see us eat.”

The redhead nodded, not in defeat, but in understanding. This town was more aware of vampires than any other. The two women could get away with a bit here and there, but people that resided here at the local college had even darker pasts than they did. Hunters with intentions to kill, werewolves with death wishes, even witches that Chloe had learned to single-handedly piss off a few times.

“I’ll call it in.” Aubrey pulled away from her wife, hand lingering on her shoulder for a few moments before she resounded to walking towards the kitchen of their shared apartment. “You’re okay with pepperoni, right?”

“Sure,” Chloe nodded, glancing around. She had made a mess, knocking the magazines off the glass end tables- the potted plant by the door had tipped over. Pitch dirt rushed across the tan tile. She squatted down, piling the catalogs into a neat little pile. Her mind wandered, not to the pizza, or the man that she had just possibly scarred for life. But the woman who was intended to walk through the doors at any moment.

Chloe had been with Aubrey for years, centuries even. She loved her wife, more than anything, she loved her. They were a perfect balance for each other; one a bit reckless, the other calm and collected, if not neurotic. Neither had intended to become so captivated with a small DJ from Barden University. In fact, they didn’t’ plan on staying in Atlanta much at all- a small pit stops a few years ago when Aubrey grew some infatuation with the world of Acapella of all things. Chloe didn’t’ judge, she even enjoyed it a bit herself. But life? It was complicated.

Both women had undeniable feelings for Beca Mitchell, and both had denied it for quite some time.

“Did she say why she was stopping by?” Chloe called out, rising to her feet with a small groan. Her bones weren’t working in her favor tonight. Did it matter? Chloe thought to herself. She didn’t’ need an excuse to see Beca.  

“Mm,” Aubrey hummed, leaning against the doorframe of the dining room as she held the phone in one hand. She had called in the pizza order, dressed in a cozy beige cardigan. She looked comfortable, Chloe wanted to pull her into her arms. “She sounded upset like we might finally need to utilize that ice cream in the freezer.”

“Huh,” Chloe knit her eyebrows together, leaning down to scoop the mix of soil into the clay pot. It left a dark residue against the side of her palm. She wanted to run it over her jeans, to get the grimy layer away from her pale skin. But it wouldn’t do her much good at this point. “You think it’s about Jesse?”

Aubrey let out a huff at the name. She despised his kind, not men, but the wolf-like nature that was wicked into his soul. Of course, she was civil, and so was he. They all had secrets to keep, people, to cloak. Jesse had taken up home in the small town of Barden just like they had- she just wished he didn’t feel the need to claim Beca as his own, something she denied to the very core. Not interested, not feeling that spark. She had told them that, all three of them at different times.

“Oh, I’m sure it is.”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

Chloe reached over and pulled the door open by the brass handle. It was cold against the skin of her palm. Beca was standing with her knuckles raised to the wooden surface like she was about to knock before she got the chance. Her face was shaded by the dull color of the moon as it leaked through the walk-way opening. That familiar scent of vanilla mixed cruelly with the spring air. She looked gorgeous, face contorted into one of wonderment.

“How do you always do that?” She squeaked out, eyes scanning over both girls. They were red, Chloe noticed. “How do you know I’m going to knock on the door?”

“I didn’t, I thought you were the pizza guy,” Chloe said, a bit of a smile on her face.

“You’ve been crying.” Aubrey could have been a little blunter about it, tugging softly at her wife’s shoulder pulling her away from the entrance. “Come in.”

Beca didn’t’ have to be told twice. She ducked her head slightly as she entered the small apartment. Her eyes flicked to the bit of dirt by the edge of welcome mat- barely catching a glance at the tinted color of Chloe’s hand. She always felt so safe here- so welcomed.

Aubrey pulled the girl into her embrace as Chloe shut the door behind her. Beca melted into the touch, Aubrey almost a whole head taller than her. The brunette cuddled into her chest, gripping that cotton cardigan like it was a life preserver. Beca sniffed. The ever-badass crumbling under her own emotion.

“What happened, sweetie?” Aubrey had wrapped her arms around Beca, holding her head close to her chest as she rested her chin on it. She gave Chloe a struggled look, not one of desperation, but one of concern.

“I don’t think you would believe me if I told you.” She laughed bitterly, making Aubrey hold her tighter. It seemed to thaw Chloe’s demeanor.

This was different- usually, the three of them got this close when they had one too many. When the alcohol warmed their veins and pushed them closer. Beca would always leave guilty the next morning, balancing her feelings of sleeping with the two girls with her desire to do more.  

“Try us,” Chloe said, shoving her hands in her pockets, it earned her a tender stare from dusk-filled eyes. They blinked a few times before closing completely. Beca drew in a careful sigh.

“Jesse told me,” Her voice cracked “that he wasn’t… isn’t human.”

Chloe had to stifle a laugh, Aubrey warning her with a dark squint. Of course, Jesse wasn’t human, they could smell it a mile away. They weren’t either, a beating heart not really in their biopsy. Beca didn’t know that, though. Whatever had possessed Jesse to evade to this fact now.

“The funny thing is,” Beca pulled away slightly, Aubrey shifted her arms, holding the girl into place by the elbows. Not forcing her but letting her know that she was there to steady her if need be. “I believe him.”

“If he’s not human, then what is he?” Aubrey asked with sincerity. It wasn’t’ the reaction that Beca had expected. She expected the goddess of a woman to laugh in her face unironically. Instead, she sat there- worry in her feathers as Chloe moved to lean against the back of the couch.

“He didn’t’ say.” She pressed her lips together, sniffing. “Just that I couldn’t be around him tonight, that it was for my own good… and that,” her nose scrunched up.

“That what, Bec’s?” She asked. Chloe pressed her fingers to her chin, staring down at the floor, she hadn’t expected to have this conversation tonight. Or ever, if she could help it.

“That I shouldn’t trust you.” Beca was timid with her words. Flashing her stare between Chloe and Aubrey. Chloe moved her stare up, it was darker than Beca had ever seen before.

Something about Jesse’s words infuriated the girl. It was one thing to question his own self-control over the human girl, but this was them. They knew their limits and their cravings. Chloe had never once had the desire to sink her teeth into Beca, and from the long talks that she and her wife shared, neither did Aubrey.

There were a lot of things Beca didn’t’ know about them, too many to count. But the biggest had been their refusal to show their primal nature. Something Jesse had well forced out of the closet at this point. If they didn’t’ utter a word now, if they kept their secrets, Beca would start to notice. Start to question that nagging seed that was planted in her mind.

Aubrey knew it was time, returning the same stare back to the woman that she had met back in 1918.

“Yet, you chose to come here?” Chloe asked, bemused.

“I had nowhere else to go.” She said.

Chloe ran her tongue over her bottom lip. She wasn’t sure of herself. She wasn’t sure she could have this conversation again. The same conversation where the counterpart would storm out and question life for a few days. She didn’t’ know if she could wait a few days for Beca though- to feel her touch.

“We need to talk,” Chloe spoke.

Beca surprisingly didn’t pull away from Aubrey. She didn’t’ push closer to her either. Instead, she breathed in. “He was right, wasn’t he?”

“No, he wasn’t.” Aubrey lifted her fingers, brushing a strand of brown hair away from Beca’s sweat coated forehead. “You have nothing to fear from us.”  

“But you’re not…” Beca held her breath, eyes flashing towards the ground.

“Human?” Chloe lifted her eyebrows, remembering the placid taste of blood that coated her tongue mere moments ago. The way just being near Beca did the same. How her energy charged off the both of them in thick waves. “No, no we’re not.”    

[panlight]

Hi i love your blog 💖 but i can't help but ask what houses from harry potter the cullens would fit ? thank you

This comes up every few years but it’s always fun to talk about again. :)Carlisle is either the nicest Ravenclaw or smartest Hufflepuff. I know the fandom tends to see him as a Hufflepuff and if you see him mostly as the post-1918 ‘dad’ of the Cullens I get that. But I think if you look at the entirety of his life there’s a compelling case for Ravenclaw. While his dad was rounding up random people as “witches” and “monsters,” Carlisle researched and studied and managed to find REAL vampires living under the city. When Carlisle discovered the vegetarian alternative, his first thought wasn’t “I’m going to make friends” or “I’m going to start a family” it was “I’m going to the continent to study!” He took a sample of Jacob’s blood to study just for fun. He nerds out over the “thrill of new information” after Bella’s (supposedly) painless transformation. (see: Carlisle the nerd).  Ravenclaws are also known for eccentricity, and Carlisle’s alternative lifestyle is really eccentric to other vampires; he’s like everyone’s weird vegan friend. I could see him as maybe a hatstall, or asking for Ravenclaw, because he wouldn’t learn a lot surrounded by other Hufflepuffs. He’d learn more and challenge himself more with Ravenclaws and he’s never been about the easy path.Esme I see as more the Hufflepuff type. She’s all about fairness, choosing to be the umpire (not “referee”) when they play baseball to make sure nobody is cheating. She’s the one who creates the cozy home atmosphere of the Cullen home--her mark is everywhere, while Carlisle’s sanctuary is his book-stuffed study. She’s the one who gives the hugs and the admonishments. Carlisle cares about humans as an idea, about humanity as a whole; Esme cares about individuals, wants to know their stories and their dreams. You could make a case for Gryffindor, too, I think, as fleeing her abusive husband, while pregnant, was incredibly brave and daring, especially in 1920, but I think the harmony and warmth of the Hufflepuffs would make Esme happiest. Edward is hard. Stephenie Meyer said Gryffindor.

SM: Edward’s Gryffindor, Bella’s Hufflepuff, Jacob might be Hufflepuff too. Alice is Ravenclaw. I could probably [sort] them all.

Q: How about Renesmee?

SM: Oh wow. She could pick any house she wanted I think. She’s got it all.

(Of course Renesmee could have her pick lol). 

I could see Gryffindor. He does rush into things sometimes, and as a human he dreamed of the glory of fighting for his country in WWI.  That’s a pretty Gryffindor-y thing. I know some people say Ravenclaw but the difference between Carlisle and Edward, to me, is that Edward studies languages and sciences because he was passing the time. He didn’t have a partner to spend eternity with so he studied and had hobbies but he didn’t seem passionate about it. Carlisle, even  after Edward and Esme, was still passionate about learning new things. Rosalie is probably a Slytherin. She goes for what she wants and she will Do What It Takes to achieve her ends. She has never tasted human blood which shows and a lot of drive and ambition (since she’s demonstrated she’s not opposed to taking human lives in other circumstances). She carried Emmett back to Carlisle and “forced” (per SM) him to change him for her.  She thought Bella needed to die to protect the family secret and was willing to do it if Edward wouldn’t. Emmett I see as the stereotypical rush-into-a-fight Gryffindor. He’s brave and brash and ready to throw down. He’ll kick your ass. He’ll kick his own ass. There’s also some Hufflepuff there but I think his insistence on “fairness” is situational (it’s “not fair” that Edward uses his gift when they fight, but it’s totally fair that Emmett uses his superior strength, right?). SM says Alice is a Ravenclaw. I guess in the Luna Lovegood model it kind of makes sense. She’s more of the eccentric Ravenclaw type than the nerdy Ravenclaw type because again, I just don’t see a passion for learning in her. Maybe SM intended it and it just didn’t get written in, IDK. I think a case can be made for her with any of the houses really. Her love of friends and parties is Hufflepuff-esque. Her bravery in going to Volterra on what seemed like a suicide mission as well as looking for Nahuel in BD. And then there’s her bossing everyone around and making sure things go her own way. Jasper . . . I could see Slytherin or Gryffindor.  SM says he’s “scholarly” in the guide but other than one line about him studying philosophy during NM we don’t really see that side of him in the books so it’s hard to judge. Slytherin because like Rose he will do Whatever It Takes. He did some terrible things in his time with Maria in order to survive. He was thinking of cheating on the vegetarian diet in Eclipse to be stronger for the fight. His manipulation of Bree in Bree Tanner is rather unsettling. He’s got that darker, more dangerous and ruthless side to him (as well as the Southern gentleman thing). And Gryffindor because of his fighting skills and bravery and the fact he ran away at a young age to join the army. SM says Hufflepuff for Bella and I’m fine with that. She loves to read but again, there’s not quite the passion or excitement for learning you see with Carlisle. She’s brave but it’s always a people-oriented bravery--brave to save her mom, brave to save Edward, brave to save Renesmee. She’s concerned about what others will think of her--more worried that the Cullens won’t like her than that they’re vampires, more worried about what people will think of her getting married at 18 than committing to an eternity of vampires--which seems like a Hufflepuff sort of thing? 

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTE:  Told you I was going to keep this moving! We should also have another fic going soon on this account again - though I'm going to try to hold off on beginning that one until more of Coven is complete (so I don't wind up in the situation I had with Bind Us/Precious Little Knives lol). Enjoy!

A brief discussion followed as they retreated from the Upperuplands, winging their way further East to Pumperdink. Glinda had requested that be their next stop, and Elphaba was too worried about keeping her eyes peeled for the local law enforcement to worry overly about why. At least it was unlikely that the formerly royal armies could have swept that far north, if indeed they were still being pursued.

"Of course we are," she told Glinda impatiently as they drifted over the tops of the trees of the Great Gillikin Forest. "Didn't you hear the way those guards were shouting at us? And I have his Grimmerie!"

Redoubling her grip around Elphaba's waist, she said reasonably, "But it was such a little mistake, wasn't it? Taking the book. Why, the library at Shiz doesn't call out the army for an overdue fine!"

"You've seen what this book can do. Flying brooms and trunks and monkeys, and that's from a single spell! What do you think we can accomplish when we start learning about the others?"

"The others? You mean… you mean you intend to continue sorcerism?! Oh, that seems- I mean, with Morrible and the Wizard, and now we're- do we really want to dig ourselves any deeper? The teensy bit we've learned so far is already turning us into wanted criminals!"

"You have a better plan?" No answer. "I thought not."

"Fine, I don't, but that doesn't mean we should be stealing any more spellwork from His Wizlyness! If we give the book back now, with only the one spell used… maybe he won't mind at all! What's one flying broom between friends, right?"

Elphaba sighed as they wove between two taller treetops. "I doubt it will be that easy. But… perhaps we should ask for word at our next stop. See what the situation is in the Emerald City, if the search has reached this far North. Or if he's called it off; we could get lucky."

"Agreed. And I'll handle that job, since you… well, you're…"

"An artichoke."

"More noticeable," Glinda finished lamely. It earned her a rueful chuckle.

"Where is this we're heading, anyway?"

"My granny's house. She's not as rules-oriented as my parents, and might have some idea where we can go if the Wizard can't be reasoned with. Which I still think he can, once everything's a little calmer!"

Her response was scarcely a whisper. "Let's hope you're right — on all counts."

                                                     ~ o ~

Granny Upland lived in a small domicile on the outskirts of the nicer side of Pumperdink — which is to say, it was still grander than Elphaba's childhood home in the governor's estate in Nest Hardings. Such a disparity between Gillikin and Munchkinland was well-known, but only hearing Glinda's descriptions of "quaint little bungalow" and "cozy Pumperdink" really drove it home. The hour was quite late, so they felt guilty ringing the bell to fetch anyone, but it was either that or sleep on her doorstep.

"Yes?" asked the Quadling servant whose round face was sandwiched by the door and its frame. Elphaba blinked and drew back in surprise, having at least expected a Gillikinese person to answer.

"Pardon the late hour and our intrusionary ringing," Glinda said with a curtsy. "But is the mistress of the house still up to receiving guests? I'm her granddaughter, Glinda — or Galinda, as she might remember me."

Elphaba's face fell into her palm.

"She is, but only just. One moment, please." The door closed, leaving them on the stoop as the sounds of footsteps receded. Within another five minutes, the servant returned and showed them in.

"Galinda, my dear, precious child!" the wizened old woman cried as she hobbled in on a cane, reaching out with the free hand to first grasp her forearm, and then draw her in for three-quarters of a hug. "Ohhh, I did wonder if I'd get to see you before your second year at that infernal university began! You're looking well, quite well!"

"Good eve, Granny! It has been ever so long, hasn't it? Oh, and this is my travelling companion, Elphaba!"

"Saint Aelphaba?" the woman gasped, obviously teasing. "Why, as I live and breathe; we've been blessed with a visit of a divinitous nature!"

Laughing, she turned to pull Elphaba closer, the latter hitching a pained, polite smile into place. Glinda already knew by now that she found being compared to the holy figure from Oz's history books beyond grating; anyone would, especially given the legend of Aelphaba disappearing nude into a waterfall. She could hardly blame her for wanting to distance herself from any kind of story that would encourage boys to ask her to shuck her clothing anytime it's raining. Not that it had stopped Glinda herself from making a remark or two when they were newly acquainted; she felt a little guilty about that now, but youth and idiocy often went hand in hand.

"Silly Granny. No, no, she's the daughter of the Eminent Thropp, the Munchkinland governor! Isn't that nifty?"

"Indeed, indeed. By the look of her, I'd have guessed she's from the Emerald City!" Chuckling at her own joke, Glinda merely grimacing and Elphaba too used to such remarks to react, she motioned for them to join her on the sofa. "Come, sit, sit. Have some Quox nuts - roasted just to the right darkness, very good for you."

"I'm allergic, Granny," Glinda told her patiently. "You knew that."

"Stuff and nonsense! Try a few, these are really quite good!" Glinda mimed reaching toward the bowl as the old woman turned toward Elphaba, pulling back her hand with no nuts in it once the attention was no longer on herself. "And you, Miss Aelphaba — how did you come to companionably travel with my little apple-cheeked granddaughter? And why are you wearing her hat?"

"Her hat?!"

The conversation meandered around from there, and they never did broach the subject of the Wizard and stolen spellbooks. This wasn't helped along by the fact that Granny was getting a little hard of hearing in her old age, and occasionally had to ask for clarification on several points. The effort of explaining fleeing the Wizard's palace in fear of their lives would be made that much harder.

At last, they retired for the evening. Nestled in one of the guest rooms that had two beds, they weren't awake for much longer. Already, Glinda felt odd with Elphie so far away; it had only been a couple of nights bunking together, but she had found it comforting to have her friend so closeby, within reach of her hand should she suffer a nightmare. She hadn't enjoyed that type of reassurance since she was a little girl.

"Can't believe you pawned off your dear, sweet grandmother's hat on me just because you didn't like it."

"Shhh, Elphie! I did like it, but didn't think it suited me. But seeing it on you, I genuinely think it works quite well." At least that last part was the full truth; she might feel guilty about deceiving Elphaba before, but the end result was that she now had a hat that looked as if it had been fashioned specifically for her head. All's well that ends well, as they said. Whoever 'they' were.

"Fine, fine. But don't think I'm…" A yawn interrupted the rest of her words. Smiling to herself, Glinda decided to interrupt that train of thought.

"Don't worry about it. Let's get some rest. Then tomorrow…"

"Tomorrow, we'll figure out our lives," Elphaba promised her. "Whether I should go on alone, and you stay here, or… something else."

Glinda smiled across at the other bed's occupant. "A girl could start to think she's not wanted with talk like that." But before Elphaba could reply, she yawned and snuggled into the pillow. "Goodnight, Elphie."

Harrumphing, she returned, "Goodnight, Glindie."

"Watch it, Fabala."

                                                    ~ o ~

A week passed with little change. Though Granny played a wonderful host, she was useless at actually focusing on any deeper, darker subjects. Any time Glinda began to ask for help, or Elphaba attempted to confess her sins for a third time, she would change the subject. Whether this was by design or by chance was unclear.

Glinda did steal into the main square of town the fourth day, asking around the local watering hole. With a scarf on her head, she looked like any other Northerner, and gave her name as Gayelette — earning her some titters at the odd-sounding moniker. No one had heard any juicy gossip from Emerald City in a good, long while. She caught snippets of older bits and commented on them as if they were news to her, but otherwise came up dry. That was a positive thing, after all; the longer it took for news of their exploits to spread, the less frantically they would have to relocate.

Between chats, she also managed to pick up another dress or two that would fit Elphaba's taller frame. This involved a lot of over-describing to the clothiers, but in the end, she got the job done. She was tempted to pick up more travelling supplies, and did get herself a lovely pink cloak for those breezy flights high in the sky, but otherwise abstained. They should discuss what they might need together before she burned through their meager coin and had to pawn more valuables.

"Listen to this," Elphaba said from her perch on the bed, fingertips holding the pages of the Grimmerie open. "My Ancient Lurlinic is as rusty as can be, the characters are so hard to read… but I think it says, 'To turn a frog into cheese.' What possible use could this be?!"

"Don't look at me, Elphie; you know I can't read that gobbledygook."

Sighing, she nodded as she flipped through more pages. "I could probably teach you if I wasn't awful at it myself. Still… maybe if I spend enough time with this thing, I'll sharpen my skills. Learn to read Lurline's old scribbly mess as easily as Standardised Gillikinese."

"Maybe so — except I thought we would be returning that when we could," she reminded her pointedly.

"Right. Right, yes, we are." Nodding resolutely, she shut the book and set it aside. "It's just all so fascinating; not so much that I want to learn the spells, just that I want to know what spells there are to be learned. Does that make any sense at all?"

"It does; you have a thirst for knowledge. Always did at Shiz, too! I think that's commendable and worthy of respectfulness."

"Why do you always make up words that sound like other words, but longer?"

Blinking, Glinda looked down at the hole in Elphaba's cloak she had been patching and tried not to let herself blush. "W-well, I… it's fashionable. Don't they sound nicer when they're longer like that?"

"No, they sound longer." When Glinda only pouted a little more, she stood and brushed her knees off, then strode across to the window. "But what do I know?"

"You know Lurlinic, for one." Her patchwork could wait; there was no hurry. Crossing the little room, she stood by Elphaba. "Have… you thought about what you're going to write to the Wizard?"

"I have."

"And?"

Her fingernails dug at a small knothole on the windowsill. "And I still have no idea. Well, that isn't accurate; I have many ideas. All bad."

"Aww… here, why don't we get started? There's a stack of papers on the writing desk, and I'm sure it won't take us more than a few tries digging in before we strike emerald." Before Elphaba could protest, she took her by the elbow and turned her so that they were facing each other. "I'll take dictation; I may only know one language, but my penmanship is exquisitous."

That time, Elphaba only smirked at her odd little phrasing. "Alright, then. Suppose we might as well give it the old Shiz try." Once Glinda was seated at the writing desk and had unstoppered the inkwell, she asked, "Ready?"

"Hold on, let me test the nib." She scratched out a couple of words on a spare scrap of paper that had likely been torn in half to dash off a quick note. Satisfied, she redipped her quill. "Okay, let's have it!"

"Okay. Hmm… here. 'Dearest Wizard'- no, wait, forget that. He's not dear to me, he scarcely knows who I am!"

Glinda frowned up at her. "You're so nervous and I haven't even written anything!"

"You know how much I used to respect him! Even if… well, everything's gone wrong by now. But that's- okay, focus. I need to focus." She began to pace as she thought, and then suddenly began, "'Dear Wizard. I am deeply regretful that I… absconded with your Grimmerie.' Does 'absconded' sound okay?"

"Divine, Elphie. Keep going, this is all fine so far."

"Good. 'With your Grimmerie. It was never my intention to do so, especially because I did not know it existed before that day. However, the consequences of the spell you bade me read were not… were not…' Um… I didn't know what it was going to do…"

"Readily apparent?"

"'Readily apparent to me until they had already been read. Seeing the monkeys in such pain from the spell I read for you frightened me, and I panicked. I hope you can understand how I reacted. Therefore… it is with great regret that I apologise, and offer to return your Grimmerie to you, intact.' How is that?"

Glinda read it back to her, and Elphaba nodded along, still pacing. Then she asked, "Were you going to mention him letting us go?"

"Right, yes — that's what's next! Okay. '...to you, intact. In exchange for this, I wish you to grant Glinda Upland a full pardon, for she was an innocent bystander in all of this. As for myself, I will accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate.'"

"Wait, Elphie," Glinda said, just having finished writing down the last word. "What do you mean? Couldn't you ask for a pardon for yourself, too?"

Sighing, she turned weary eyes toward her friend. "It's asking too much. Look how far we ran off with the book! You really think he's going to just shrug and say 'oh well', especially now that we know how powerful it is?"

"Well… no, but it doesn't hurt to ask!" Dipping the quill again, she added on her own, "'But I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive and forget.' There, that way you're only asking, and not making it a condition of the Grimmerie's surrender."

"That's good, that's good," Elphaba confirmed as she hunched over the back of the chair, gazing down at the sheet. "And it looks clean and neat so far. Well done."

"Thank you," she whispered with a tiny smile. "Might not have many talents to my name, but penmanship is one of them. Okay, what else?"

"That's it. I don't want to beleaguer the point and take up too much of his time. Sign it 'Sincerely and ashamedly,' and my name."

"You sign your name," she asked once she had put down the rest, holding out the quill. After a brief moment of indecision, she did, with a flourish and some slight blotting that made the final letters look a bit spidery. Then she handed back the quill and reached to pick up the page. "W-wait, don't you want to use pounce first, so it doesn't smudge?!"

"O-oh, I… you're right, how stupid of me. What is wrong with my brain today?"

Smiling up at her as she reached for the pounce pot, she whispered, "You're fine. Just… nervous. I understand." She sprinkled the fine powder on the page, soaking up the extra ink. Then she turned toward the window, picking it up by the edges. "Can you…?"

"Yes, of course." Elphaba gently eased the window open, and Glinda blew the dust out into the late evening. Once the window was shut and they were back by the desk, Elphaba read over their work. "I hate it. However, I honestly don't think I could make a better job of it if I tried again, so we might as well leave it this way."

"Fine by me. Just hope it does the job that it should do."

Then they sealed it inside an envelope, took a deep breath, and turned in for the evening.

                                                    ~ o ~

Another day passed much the same. Still they got nowhere with Granny conversationally, and still they had no clear idea of where to go, what to do. Elphaba wasted great gobs of time leafing through the Grimmerie, but it was more to keep from pacing or talking to herself than out of a desire to plumb the depths of its material. Glinda tried to take up most of her time mending clothes or chattering, which she could tell was beginning to get on her companion's nerves, but she had no better notion of what to do with herself. All her life, people had been shunting her in one direction or another; the few independent thoughts she had summoned were all very closely related to ones others had stated at one point or another. Life with Elphaba was highly challenging in ways she never could have predicted.

The next afternoon, Glinda was on her way back from the market with a few minor odds and ends when she stopped in at the Bittuvalai Inn again. She asked the same old questions, expecting nothing more than the same old answers.

She was sorely mistaken.

"You aren't a 'Gayelette' at all!" one of the men accused once he'd clapped eyes on her. "You're a Galinda!"

"That's Glinda, please!" she snapped — before she could stop herself. Covering her mouth with her hand, she hurriedly added, "And I don't know what you mean!"

"Knew it!" he said, nodding over his shoulders. "Ain't any girls 'round this pathetic town as lovely as her, she had to be from somewhere's else!"

Smiling in spite of herself, Glinda tittered, "Oh, you do go on, sir!" Then she noticed the patrons were closing her off from the door, attempting to corral her into the corner. "W-wait, you don't go on… I m-mean, you should let me go, please!"

A squat, middle-aged woman demanded, "Or what? You'll curse us?"

"Curse you? Please, how would I even know how to do such a thing?! I am but a poor student from Shiz University; I barely know how to put one wand in front of the other!"

"WITCH!" a mousy-looking man somehow managed to shout at the top of his lungs, bringing around the few other patrons who had been ignorant of the scene.

"Who, where?!" she squeaked innocently.

"You won't get away from here so easily, witch!" the woman went on as the dozens of pairs of eyes fixated on her, seeming to drill right through her body. An urge to poke them welled up within herself. "We'll turn you in, we will, and our names will be praised by His Wizliness!"

"Perhaps there'll be a reward!"

The moment the first man said that, there were many murmurs of assent. That did not tip things in her favour at all. Glinda's blue eyes swept up and down the scrubby wooden tables and chairs, to the well-polished bartop and the bartender crouched behind it. She could only hope he wasn't going for some sort of weapon he kept just in case of similar disturbances. Ordinarily, she would have been glad of the protection… but not when she wasn't the one being protected.

"Please, look at yourselves!" she urged as she pressed back against the wall, palms finding its surface as her cloth sack swung from her elbow. "I h-haven't cursed you for threatening me already, so how could I be a witch? Y-you're being silly, all of you!"

"Silly and rich, soon enough!" said the mousy man.

There was nothing else to be done; she had to think of some way to trick them out of attacking. Glinda reached into her bag and pulled out a beetroot. "Do you see this?!" she screeched, causing them all to hesitate. "One false move, and I'm warning you… I'll do to you what I did to him!"

A collective gasp went up. That was enough; she had thrown the shadow of doubt across their zealousness. Tossing the beet into the air, she dashed for the door, only barely glimpsing that several of them dove to catch what they presumed was a transmogrified person. One man had to be elbowed out of the way, but he was surprised enough that she could manage it and make good her escape.

How much longer will they stare at it, waiting to see if it speaks? she couldn't help thinking to herself as she dashed up the lane toward her Granny's house. The situation didn't merit such japes, but she felt she had to take the amusement where she could find it.

Once bursting through the door, she saw Granny perched on the sofa with a cup of tea in her hand, and Elphaba poring over the book. They both started, a few drops of tea falling to the rug from the cup.

"They're coming!"

Immediately, Elphaba shot to standing. "How many?"

"From the look of it, the entire village!" Glinda panted as she leaned against the door. "Oh… oh, we have to fly! I don't want us to still be here when they catch up, and ruin my Granny's lovely Quadling rugs trying to catch us!"

"What's all this about?" Granny asked in mild confusion, squinting as they began to head for the staircase. "Who's coming?!"

There wasn't time to explain to the poor old thing. The minute they reached the bedroom, they began to cram everything into the trunk as quickly as was possible; Grimmerie, new purchases, even one of the pillows from the bed wound up padding the inside. Of course, the flying spell was still in action upon the trunk, as a spell cannot be undone once it's been said, so they tied it to the back of the broom as efficiently as they could without muddling the process and prepared to leave.

"Really, this is a most unceremonical exit you're making!" Granny pouted as they began to approach the front door.

"I am sorry, Gran!" Glinda bade her, wringing the old woman's hands. "I've been trying to find a way to explain, but I… oh, it's really just so horribliffic, I don't want you to think any less of me! Of us!"

"We can't endanger your safety because of my mistake," Elphaba cut off further protests. "We'll just… well, I don't know where we'll go now that we've run out of relatives. But we'll figure something out."

Granny tutted her disapproval, but still patted Glinda's elbow. "You do as you must, dearie. Just take a few Quox nuts for the road!"

"Gran, you know I'm allerg-"

"We have to go now!" Elphaba hissed, gesturing to the windows. Indeed, there were mobs already gathering outside, stirred up by the ones from the tavern. They weren't knocking on the front door quite yet, but it wouldn't be long.

"Why does it feel like we're always rushing off somewhere?" Glinda sighed, embracing her grandmother. "We'll be back, though, you'll see!"

"Very well! Safe trip, don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

As they stepped outside, they did notice a few eyes turn in their direction, but they were already mounting the broom and readying to take off, not wasting a moment. By the time anyone had roused themselves enough to dash in their direction, it was too late; they were airborne.

However, the moment they were skimming past the upper-story windows of the homes, they began to feel sharp pains inflicted upon their legs and hips. Glinda glanced down and let out an exasperated squeak.

"What is it?" Elphaba asked through clenched teeth. "I'm concentrating on flying!"

"They're throwing rocks! Oh, of all the uncouthful, ridiculous- how can they be so rude?!" As they passed a particularly thick knot of Gillikin citizenry, she shouted down, "WHAT CHILDREN!"

"WITCH!" was all she heard in return, and had to flinch back to avoid a sound clouting of her nose with what seemed to be half a brick.

"Forget them," Elphaba snapped over her shoulder as they began to rise high enough that it would no longer be a problem. "They've made up their minds."

One last sound of a rock smacking against their trunk reached them before Pumperdink was behind them, the shouts fading in their wake. Alas, Elphaba was right about one thing: they were out of family members to beg for sanctuary. Where in Oz would they go now?

                                                    To Be Continued…

[mariequitecontrarie]

A Bridge of Hope: A Rumbelle “Missing” Scene

Summary: Gideon teleports from the cabin in anger, rejecting his parents, and Belle and Rumplestiltskin face each other and their fears. Rating: T  Word Count: 2,000 A/N: After watching the Season 6 deleted scenes, I was inspired to write this angst and hurt/comfort “bridge” fic; it’s meant to immediately following the deleted cabin scene from 6x11, Tougher than the Rest. I felt like it helped set up the Rumbelle conversation at the well better, so there’s not such a sudden jump from strife to accord. Here’s the deleted cabin scene for reference: (x) Thanks to @rowofstars for reading over this for me, and helping with the title!

Also on AO3

Their son vanishes into thin air once more, rejecting them both, and when Belle looks at Rumple, the despair choking her heart is reflected in his eyes.

A defeated sigh escapes her lips. She knows it looks as though she came here spoiling for a fight, strong-arming her way into the cabin and using Zelena, David, and Killian as a means to an end. Oh, she’s learned a thing or two from being Rumplestiltskin’s wife. But the last thing she wants is to be her husband’s enemy.

No, she didn’t come here looking for a fight. She came here looking for hope.

All she wants Rumple to say is that he’ll help her stop Gideon from descending into darkness. She can’t bear to watch their son suffer and repeat their mistakes; he’s so young despite his gangly appearance, so tender and impressionable. Too innocent to be filled with such unbridled hatred.

Head down, Belle peeks at Rumple through lowered lashes, wondering what he’s thinking. There was a time when they wanted the same things for their children. Nights when they used to lie in the dark together and dream of making a home and a family, talk about raising their babies to become people of love, courage, strength of heart. Those hopes and plans are dashed to broken shards now, and they’re stumbling on separate paths through an endless nightmare of their own making.

A wave of dizziness comes over her, buzzing in her ears like a swarm of angry bees, and she staggers toward Rumple. His arms come out to steady her, his hands warm and sure against her shoulders. She’s uncertain of her footing, of everything, really. Again she falters, the edges of her vision shadowed and blurry, and she catches the faintest hint of worry in his eyes. A moment later the emotion is gone as he watches David and Killian through a cold gaze and a haughty jaw.

Gideon and Rumple are right to be furious with her for bringing them here. “Good people” indeed; they’ve helped her do more harm than good today and she wishes she’d never involved them.

“Belle.”

David’s voice from behind her is laced with regret. She doesn’t turn around to address him, doesn’t want to hear his halfhearted, mumbled apologies. Now she knows that where her family is concerned, the others can never really be trusted. When it comes to her child, there are no heroes and villains.

“Just go,” she says, at last turning around to face David and Killian as Rumple drops his hands from her shoulders. Killian’s eyes are glued to the floor, but David’s cheeks are mottled with embarrassment; at least he has the grace to look ashamed for the double-crossing stunt with Zelena. Belle tilts her head toward the door in dismissal. “Please.”

“If you’re sure.” David glances at her and his gaze narrows toward Rumple, as if fearing he will devour her like a rabid wolf.

Hysterical laughter bubbles up at the absurd circumstances, and Belle swallows the discordant sound. She’s grown weary of everyone’s repeated insinuations that she needs protection. No matter what shocking thing he may do or say, she is not afraid of Rumplestiltskin. She shifts closer to her husband.

The door closes behind David and Killian with a soft thud of finality, and Belle sways again, this time stumbling backwards, her back coming in contact with the strong wall of Rumple’s chest.

“Belle?” His voice is soft now, a warm whisper against the back of her neck, even warmer than the fur coat and hat she wears to keep the frigid air at bay. He’d given her the set for her last birthday and wearing them makes her feel powerful, like she’s perfectly fine that it’s over between them.  Armor takes many forms.

She turns around and steps away, love and attraction warring with common sense. Rumple has cast her aside to flirt with darker temptations. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, blocking out the image of the Evil Queen keeping him warm at night. The room spins, and Belle tries to focus on a far spot on the wall, afraid to meet Rumple’s eyes, terrified to see his contempt.

Nausea makes her gut churn and she fights against her tight chest for a clean breath of air.

“Are you all right?”

Her gaze flies to his face. Rumple’s mouth is set in a grim line, his closed expression revealing little of his true feelings. He’s always been most comfortable wearing a mask, and the realization that he wears one for her now makes her teeth chatter despite the cozy warmth of the cabin.

“Yes,” she manages through parched, trembling lips. “I’m sorry…”

The last thing she remembers is his urgent brown eyes hovering above her.

xoxo

She awakens in their bed—now his bed—at the cabin, a cool, soft cloth draped across her forehead.

Rumple is perched on a chair beside the bed, fidgeting. Her coat and hat are gone and the top three buttons of her shirt are undone. With trembling fingers she closes the gaping blouse. The tattoo of his name beneath her breasts scalds her skin, and she traces the inked scrollwork beneath the fabric. She wonders if he spied the mark on her body when he loosened her clothing, an impulse decision when he left for the Underworld. Before everything went wrong, she couldn’t wait for him to discover it; to watch his eyes to grow wide with pleasure at the knowledge that she’d branded herself as his. The tattoo has become a searing reminder of her misplaced faith in their love, but she can’t bring herself to regret it.

“You fainted,” he confirms, and averts his eyes from her body.

“I forgot to eat today.” She flushes. The excuse sounds lame and silly.

He’d called her a hypocrite, and denial leaped to her lips because she knows he’s right. She’d been fooled once again; David and Killian had aligned with Zelena against her. Pathetic, gullible Belle. All alone in the world. No friends, no husband, and thanks to her rash stupidity, no son.

He hands her a packet of crackers, insisting she take one. She nibbles, allowing the bit of food to melt on her tongue. It tastes like sawdust.

“Better now?” he asks.

His tenderness makes tears spring to her eyes, and she purses her lips and nods. It’s a lie, of course. Nothing is all right. The air between them is thick with bitter tension, and she crushes the cracker in her hands to crumbs, not knowing how to bridge the chasm.

“Do you still intend to use the shears to cleave our son from his fate?” He rubs his fingers together, staring at the bedspread.

“No. But I don’t know what to do,” she croaks, struggling against the dryness in her throat. A moment later, he presses a cool glass of water into her hands, and she props herself on one elbow to take a grateful swallow. She looks at him for a long moment, then says, “Why do you want to keep Gideon on this dark path?”

He chuckles, a rueful, hollow sound. “All you care about is making sure our son is nothing like me.”

The words are a pained, feeble whisper, and she grasps his hand, more desperate than angry even though he evaded the question. This man she loves is so much more than mere darkness.

“No. No, I want our son to be like you in all the ways that matter. I want him to have your intelligence, your wit, your humor. I want him to be like the real you.” She pleads with him to understand. “Not…not like this.”

“What if this is the real me?” The steel is back in his glare, challenging her. Fathomless eyes that have seen too much and borne such pain, wrestling with the demons within.

In spite of all the hurt he’s caused, she cannot allow him to believe so little of himself.

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

xoxo

He looks away from Belle’s searching gaze, focusing instead on the delicate pattern of her hair fanning out across the pillow at her back. “Even so,” he chides. “You don’t trust me to do what’s best for our son.”

“I-I want to trust you. If you could just give me a straight answer. Do you want Gideon to kill Emma?” she asks, sitting up in bed.

Sheer stubbornness causes him to hesitate before answering. Belle won’t believe him no matter what he says, and although he cannot blame her, he’s tired, so tired of explaining himself. “I want him to fulfill his destiny.”

“What if that means…” A lone tear slips down Belle’s cheek, causing his already broken heart to splinter.

His disgust at her arrival at the cabin was aimed at the pirate and the prince, but he’d taken it out on her and tried to pit their son against his mother. In his anger, he’d reminded the boy that Belle was the one who had given him away and allowed the Black Fairy to steal him. As though he had been innocent. As though his intentions had been honorable.

When Gideon had arrived and announced his plans to kill Emma Swan and become the new Savior, he was the one who suggested working together, and then they’d both stalked off to find Gideon on their own. Not once did they ask each other for advice or input, but if they have any hope of helping their son, they both need to bend.

Belle fainting scared the hell out of him. She was only unconscious for a few minutes, but each ticking second felt like an eternity. He worries for her health and safety, but the terror he feels is mostly for himself, of how much he still loves her. Loves her kindness, her brave spirit, her unfailing optimism. He knew she would come here, had wanted her to seek him out not only for Gideon’s sake, but for himself. His instinct for self-preservation is long gone—like a wayward child who lashes out at his parents for attention, he would rather endure her wrath and angry words than never feel the sun again.

Belle is crying in earnest, her face covered by her hands. She drops back onto the pillows and curls onto her side, sobbing and shaking as tears roll down her fingers and patter onto the bedspread. He rises from the chair next to the bed and removes his overcoat, then walks to the other side of the bed and lays down. He opens his arms.

She needs him now, just as he needs her. Not as a lover or a spouse, but as a fellow parent, a friend.

She scoots toward him, burrowing against his chest and tucking her head under his chin. He holds her close as she cries, splaying his fingers across her narrow back to cover as much of her as possible, as though eclipsing her body with his own will protect her from the pain.

They cry and rock together for a long time, and it feels so good, this giving and accepting of solace. Finally, she lifts her head from his chest and stares at him with wet, bloodshot eyes. A watery smile curves her lips.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He returns the smile. “I needed this, too.”

“Our son has your eyes.” She sniffles and curls her fingers into his damp shirt.

“So he does.” He strokes her back, not ready to let her go. Not today. Not ever. “Do you mind?” Do you hate being reminded of me when you look at our child?

She shakes her head. “Of course not. I’ve always loved your eyes.”

Relief floods him, and something more—the desire to promise her that somehow, some way, he’ll steer Gideon back toward the light.

Before he can speak, Belle’s phone rings, and she pulls away from him, sitting up to take the call. He can’t hear the voice on the other end, but the alarm in her wide blue eyes tells him the news isn’t good.

She ends the call and drops the phone into her lap. “That was Granny. Gideon is in the town square,” she says. “Waiting for Emma.”

“All right.” He nods his head, resolute, and gathers her coat as well as his own.

It’s time to dry their tears and rescue their son.

###

[loraleislysiren]

Siren Song - 12

“Only you, Hermione, would choose to meet up in the library on the weekend,” Ron Weasley pointed out to his Gryffindor compatriot. Harry, Hermione, and Ron stood outside the the heavy wooden doors leading to Madam Pince’s domain. “We’re not technically meeting in the library, are we? I just thought it would be an easy point of reference for Y/N to find. She’s new, remember? The library is one of the first places I learned to find when we were new at Hogwarts.” Hermione believed her rationale to be sound, but the lanky redhead was not convinced. “Yeah, well, not everyone is you, Hermione. Not everyone spends all their time in the library. It isn’t like she’s a Ravenclaw. In fact, she’s a Slytherin. And I’m not quite sure why you’re making us hang out with a Slytherin. I mean, have you ever met a Slytherin that was half decent, Harry? I haven’t.” Ron turned to Harry and the boy with the lightning bolt scar momentarily contemplated his friend’s question before responding, “Well, no. Not really.” “Exactly my point,” Ron continued. “Are you sure she’s not a complete snake, Hermione? You barely even met her. Why are we even doing this? This is a terrible idea and I’m regretting it already.” “Ronald, stop. She might happen round the corner any moment and hear you. We’re doing this because she genuinely seems like a nice person who could use some friends. She’s been kind to me today each time we spoke. Besides, she dislikes Malfoy. Remember Charms earlier today when she soaked him with her Aguamenti charm? Anyone who dislikes Malfoy can’t be all that bad, even for a Slytherin.” Harry shrugged, “I suppose you’re right Hermione. If she doesn’t like Malfoy, maybe she’s got better judgement that the rest of the Slytherin lot.” Ron sighed, annoyed that he was outnumbered by his friends. “Maybe she just won’t show up at all and —“ But before Ron could finish his sentence, the Slytherin girl appeared around the corner at the end of the hall. Hermione elbowed Ron and and whispered, “Please be nice to her. Do not embarrass me.” Ron replied with a roll of his eyes. The boy who lived, however, was eager to meet Y/N. He hadn’t been able to stop wondering about her since the night before and his heartbeat quickened when the Slytherin came into view. What was she like? She certainly was beautiful he thought. Y/N approached the trio and smiled warmly, “Hey Hermione. Hello—” And upon noticing the dark-haired Gryffindor, Y/N exclaimed louder than she intended, “Holy shit, you’re Harry Potter!” He should have been use to this reaction by now, but Harry hadn’t anticipated this response from Y/N. He smiled humbly at the girl and acquiesced, “Yes, I reckon I am.” A slight blush crept over Y/N's cheeks as she attempted to hide her surprise at meeting Harry Potter. “Wow, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be weird, it’s just that even though I grew up in a different country, you’re still really famous over there. They teach about you at Ilvermorny and you’re in our textbooks. Hermione didn’t tell me that I was going to meet you. Okay, I’ll stop gushing now…” She paused, embarrassed by her overt enthusiasm at meeting Harry. “Sorry, I’m being super awkward,” she laughed nervously. “I’m Y/N. Apparently very awkward Y/N.” Harry and Hermione shot bemused smiles to the Slytherin. “And I’m Ron. Not so famous as Harry, but definitely standing right next to him,” Ron interjected feeling mildly annoyed and moderately invisible. Y/N, much to her chagrin, turned quickly to Ron at not having acknowledged him, “You must think I’m really rude. I’m sorry, Ron. It’s nice to meet you. I didn’t mean to ignore you or anything…” Instead of finishing her thought, Y/N flashed the redhead her winningest smile with the hope he didn’t immediately think she was an ass. “S’okay.” Ron shrugged. “I’m use to it,” he said a bit more lightly. “It’s not every day you get to meet a celebrity.” Harry deflected, “So Y/N, any place around the castle that you would like to see in particular?” He watched her hair gently brush across her collarbones as she shook her head in indifference. “I was hoping you three might be able to show me something cool. It’s whatever you all think I should see.” She smiled again and Harry felt his chest explode with warmth. Her smile was captivating. Hell, she was captivating and Harry couldn’t believe she was about to spend time with him. And Ron and Hermione too… “We thought that we would just give you our tour of the castle,” Hermione spoke up. Maybe show you some places you haven’t been yet. There really is loads to see at Hogwarts, lots of interesting history and —“ Ron interrupted, “Hermione makes it sound boring like she’s about to take you on some educational tour. That’s not what we’re going to do. We’ll show you cool stuff, I promise.” Ron was warming up to the idea of being friendly to this Slytherin who was easy on the eyes and not a complete twat. “Right, let’s get a move on before Madam Pince complains about us being too loud or something.” The quartet began roaming the halls as all three Gryffindors spouted information regarding various locations or attributes about the castle that felt important to them. About the time they had entered the near desolate girls’ bathroom occupied only by Moaning Myrtle (and were explaining the previous year’s encounter with the basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets) Ron not so surreptitiously asked Y/N, “So why are you in Slytherin?” Y/N looked puzzled, “What do you mean? The sorting hat put me there.” “What Ron means,” Hermione tried to atone for the ginger’s bluntness, “is that you don’t seem like a typical Slytherin.” Ron kept on, “What Hermione is dancing around is that Slytherins are dodgy gits. And you don’t really seem like a dodgy git.” The Slytherin girl furrowed her brow, unsure of how to respond. Harry desperately didn’t want to offend Y/N, “Ron’s trying to say that Slytherins have a certain reputation. All the houses do. Gryffindors are brave, Hufflepuffs - kind, Ravenclaws - smart, and Slytherins… they have a much… darker reputation.” “How so?” “Well, Slytherin tends to attract wizards who practice the Dark Arts. Voldemort,” Ron shuddered when Harry spoke the name, “was a Slytherin.” “But wasn’t Merlin a Slytherin too? I feel like I read that somewhere. Merlin wasn’t a dark wizard, he was incredibly talented and definitely not evil.” Y/N felt pride swell inside her as she sought to defend her house. “Yes, you’re correct about that,” Hermione nodded in agreement. “Not all Slytherins are bad, it just seems that in addition to housing You Know Who, the Slytherins that we have encountered have been cruel and malicious.” “Like Malfoy?” Y/N wondered aloud. Harry admitted readily, “Exactly. Malfoy is an arrogant prick, and so are his friends Crabbe and Goyle. It’s just that we haven’t really met a Slytherin who’s been nice to us before.” Harry ran his fingers through his dark hair, mussing it up further. Y/N smiled at Harry, taking his words as a compliment to her character, “I’m glad that I don’t fit the mold then. I also don’t think all Slytherins are jackasses or evil like that. They can’t be. It sounds like we get a bad reputation from a few people who ruin it for the rest of us, which sucks.” “Besides maybe you, I doubt that,” Ron insisted emphatically. “I don’t know. I had a Slytherin who was really sweet to me all day.” Y/N was thinking of Blaise. “He was kind to me, helped me find classes, and stood up for me against Malfoy.” She didn’t think it was necessary to tell them she had kissed him earlier… Ron cocked his head to the side and explained with fervor, “That’s because you’re a Slytherin. Slytherins don’t like the other houses. They only like each other.” “Or is it that the other houses, not everyone of course, don’t like Slytherins?” Y/N realized she was treading on thin ice with Ron, but she was loyal to her house and felt compelled to defend it. “I’m not sure. I’ve not been here long at all, so I can’t make a good judgment call on people I’ve not had a chance to get to know yet. But I don’t think it’s fair to generalize an entire group of people. Just like I think it’s bullshit of Malfoy and others to hate on those who have no-maj parents.” Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N saw Hermione grin at her words. Harry smiled at Y/N next, the green eyed Gryffindor appreciated the girl’s passionate candidness; it wasn’t every day, or ever, that he had seen a Slytherin demonstrate her fidelity to Muggle borns. “You have to admit, Ron, she does have a point there.” Frowning because he realized there could be truth to her argument, and he perhaps was wrong, Ron shrugged lazily, “Okay. Maybe she does.” Ron’s bias gave way as the corners of his mouth turned upward and any tension felt before dissolved into nothingness. “Bloody hell, Harry, ‘Mione, she’s feisty this one. Fred and George are going to love her. Their my older brothers by the way. Fifth years.” Ron directed his last statement to Y/N. “I’d love to meet them.” Deep inside, though, Y/N was troubled by what the trio had just explained to her about darkness and maliciousness manifesting within the house of Slytherin. Two distinctly malignant thoughts, secrets which had plagued her from childhood, again pervaded the fringe of her mind. She pushed this unpleasantness away swiftly, as she always did, to focus on something less unsettling. Harry saved her from her thoughts, “I’m glad you decided to spend time with us tonight.” He smiled at the Slytherin and found her countenance overwhelming his emotions; she was positively radiant. Hermione and Ron quickly glanced at one another, understanding that Harry was bewitched by Y/N. “So,” Harry attempted to regain his composure, “what’s Malfoy done to you, Y/N? He seemed to cozy up to you in the Great Hall last night…” “Ha, you noticed that? Well, he found out that I'm apparently a blood traitor because I could give a rat’s ass about someone’s blood status. Aside from branding me a blood traitor, he’s just been a general jackass to me. He stole my wand, which was why I drenched him in Charms. And, get this, he told me I couldn’t sit near him in the Great Hall. As if it’s some wonderful privilege to be close to him. He’s annoying and so is Pansy Parkinson. Do you know her? She just hangs all over him… I don’t know why…it’s gross. And when I left the common room tonight, she called me a stupid slapper for ruining a dumb little game she was playing.” Ron raised his eyebrows, “She called you a stupid slapper?” “Yeah. I don’t even know what that means. I assume it’s something insulting though.” Hermione frowned and pulled at the hem of her shirt uncomfortably, “It’s a derogatory term used to insinuate that someone has loose morals.” “She basically called you a slut,” Ron didn’t mince words. “I can’t stand that girl. She’s bullied Hermione before too. She just goes along with whatever Malfoy wants. She’s not a nice person.” “Wow. I guess I can see why you don’t have a high opinion of Slytherin. We do have some vile people in our house… but I hope I can change your mind, to some extent, that we aren’t all bad.” “You are. Changing our minds that is,” Harry spoke up. Hermione glanced at her watch, “It’s about to be curfew. Should we continue this tomorrow?” “Curfew already? Seems early still. But I guess it has been several hours we’ve been hanging out,” Y/N didn’t want the night to end with her new friends. “Sadly yes, it is about curfew time. But we’d love to see you tomorrow too. We can show you the Black Lake and you can meet Hagrid. It’s just best not to get caught out after curfew. We don’t want any house points deducted, or worse, detention.” “Wouldn’t that be awesome if we had some magical invisibility cloak or something we could use to sneak around after curfew?” the redhead said knowingly; Harry and Hermione flashed him a look telling him to shut his big mouth. Y/N laughed, “I guess that would be awesome. I wish. Well, I would definitely like to hang out with you three tomorrow. I’ve had fun tonight.” “Us too,” agreed Harry. And with that, they discussed and made plans for the next day. As Y/N walked back to the dungeon, she contemplated her new friendship with the Gryffindors. Upon walking into the Slytherin common room, however, she was jerked out of her reverie by the drawl of a familiar voice. “L/N. Hey, L/N. Hey blood-traitor!” The voice belonged to the platinum blonde who was sitting again by the fire next to Crabbe and Goyle. “Where’d you go? Try to drown yourself in the Black Lake yet? You'd be doing us all a favor. Zabini’s not here right now for you to harass. He’s probably rinsing his mouth out with disinfectant still from your obvious desperation.” Y/N's eyes shone with determination and fight, “Did it take you all night to think of that, Malfoy? That’s precious that you spent all night thinking of something clever to say to me. Too bad you failed.” Draco leered at Y/N, “You wish, filthy blood-traitor. You wish I spent all night thinking of you.” The Slytherin girl laughed heartily at her aggressor, “No, no, not really, Malfoy. Nice try though.” She turned away from Draco and walked to her bedroom. As Draco sat there fuming at Y/N's temerity, he briefly thought to himself that he was glad he got to see Y/N again that night. Although their interaction could generally by described as strained and unpleasant, Draco was nonetheless satisfied with their encounter. And as Draco sat by the fire, tuning out Crabbe and Goyle, immersed in his own thoughts, Y/N was lying on her bed, replaying the conversation she just had with Draco. Y/N, smiling to herself, was also satisfied with their encounter.