#pterodactyl screech into the fade

[bonesofapoet]

the night that keeps our secrets

[ cullen rutherford x inquisitor!reader ]

author’s note: him!!! beloved!!!! loml !!!! i am so fucking soft for this guy you have no idea. anyway - the one where its the inquisitor, whose head is heavy under the weight of a crown they did not ask for. angst, comfort, alcohol mention

word count: 1568

The battlements were quiet that night.

Torchlight shone faint in the darkness. The range between the dying embers had grown long and sparse where a sentry was not required. Absolute darkness reigned wholeheartedly, where repairs to the old crumbling masonry had not yet been completed. Only the starlight kept you company here, on this stretch of stone that had become yours and yours alone. Moonlight  illuminates the heart you allow to bleed on your sleeve in the presence of no one but the Maker, Andraste, the Elvhen gods of old.

Skyhold was at peace, after such a harrowing win. A raging celebration had cloaked your base from the stables all the way to Leliana's aviary - a collective exhale, finally, breathed new life into not only the Inquisition itself, but those supporting the cause you had, once upon a time, questioned on your own. It was infectious, this taste of victory, especially when the road to get here was long and cruel and tedious. Roaring fires have calmed to kindling now, the rest of the Keep not too far behind for the night. 

There was still much to be done, but this night provided a vital respite that no one seemed to oppose.

It was a calm thing, at such an hour so late. The pathways up into the depths of the stronghold were occupied by the occasional pair, group, lone survivor stumbling to bed in their own corner of the castle.

Your time was your own, now - and by the way Bull kept sliding rounds of Maraas-Lok your way - it was a welcome thing, slipping away from your friends. Dawn was fast approaching, and you hoped to at least have your head about you when the time came to greet it. Sleep sounded a welcome way to temper the evening, but - exhausted as you were - it would never stay for long. So, here you came. Slipped away through the shortcut passages that were less traveled, less well known among those that weren’t under your direct chain of command. 

Not many knew to look for you here. Save Cole, because he was Cole. He watched over you, here at Skyhold. Out of sight, always, but without a doubt, at your back nonetheless. Leliana, of course - the Nightingale was spymaster of the Inquisition for a reason. And, finally -

"Oh, I - there you are. I've been looking for you."

Cullen.

So lost in your thoughts as you were, with your gaze tipped up, up, up, towards silver-lined clouds wisping over bright constellations and velvety darkness alike. The steady breeze gliding over your skin had a calming effect this evening. Gentle as it was, a natural balm to any sleepless night, especially on the worst ones. You hadn't realized this serenity had been broken by heavy footfalls on stone, and, hidden by the wind swirling past, was the familiar rustle of the fur cloak he never went without.

"Didn't I leave you fast asleep in my quarters?"

Starlight painted a smile upon your lips, and you wore it with all the grace and beauty of the Divine. Cullen had to stop, when your face turned from the heavens to him, down here on Thedas. If it weren't for the brisk mountain air grounding him here and now, he would be drifting away, lost in the radiant presence of the Inquisitor - his Inquisitor. A smile began to rise upon his lips, and he ducked his head in shadow. A blush began to bloom, and he knew you wouldn't leave it be.

"You did," he says to the stones. "And you -" He steps closer, eyes tipping up towards yours, watching him. There's a glint in your eye; the one he’s learned to mean mischief. At his expense tonight, no doubt. " - slipped away without a trace."

A small laugh escapes you, loud in contrast to the quiet of the night. Your hands drummed upon the chipped stone in front of you, an idle movement to occupy your body. You had become so much more restless, since you were crowned Inquisitor.

"I didn't want to wake you."

"You didn't think I'd notice you were gone?" This time it was Cullen, who chased away the silence with a quiet laugh of his own. He reaches for you, a hand skimming along your spine. It's gentle, his touch, softer without the leather gloves always hugging his skin. "My love, I always notice when you're gone."

Your smile is warm, his words taking root in your chest to grow a beautiful garden in your heart. As for it reaching your eyes, as it so often does. . .

Cullen notices, of course, when it doesn't.

His smile wavers, all space between you disappearing when you lean into his touch. Your name is quiet, when it leaves his lips. It's spoken with reverence, always his favorite prayer to sing even when you are no longer near.

“Are you all right?”

It was unintentional, to laugh at his question. And yet, that didn’t stop the sound from spilling into the night, swirling above with the snow that had just begun to fall. They were both gentle in delivery, the flakes weightless and fluffy as they shone bright in the rays of moonlight that remained. The clouds were thick and glowing now, heavy under the weight of unfallen snow. Your voice was loud in the darkness, loud in comparison to the quiet worry that Cullen always held for you.

But, the world had become heavy, even in victory. Leading the Inquisition came with a price you kept to yourself, most days.

Heavy is the head, as they say.

“I don’t think I have a choice but to be, do I?”

His touch stills, and you both turn your eyes out towards the darkness, out into the world beyond Ferelden, beyond Orlais, where trouble is no doubt lurking. Somewhere, it’s hunting for you. It never stops.

The breath Cullen takes is unsteady, yet his tone remains soft. Tender. “In front of the Inquisition? Your troops and allies? No, I’m afraid not - the stakes. . . None of us have that luxery. Though -”

It’s gentle, when he pulls you into him. You breathe in the comfort of leather and sandalwood, the faint air of celebration and strong liquor still clinging to him for dear life. The hand that isn’t holding you rises to rub circles along your back. Traces soothing lines down your side to twine his fingers through your own. It doesn’t take long before you're burying your face into his furs.

Cullen says your name again, all quiet and warm and strong. “You have a choice with me. Always.” a kiss is pressed to your crown, and it lingers. Lingers. Lingers. “With all of us in your council, really. Just as we know we have a choice around you.”

Too soon are you creating space from one another, but Cullen is stepping back to tilt your chin up from the safety of him, to the uncharted glory of the sky. Snowflakes are swirling just a little bit quicker now, the wind coming to bite, rather than soothe. You bring your eyes down to meet his veiled amber gaze, breath shaking at the warm look he’s giving you now. It’s the one you’ve seen only  when you come home hurt.

You nod, the heaviness of your crown resting a little easier now. A little less heavy, but a little more snug. Cullen offers you a smile - something small, something aching, and he begins to tug you forward by the hand. You don’t fall into him again, because he’s walking backwards in time with your steps, back the way he had come.

“That’s it, love. What do you say we continue this back inside? It’s getting a little too cold for my taste.”

A smile of your own begins to take shape upon your lips. “Welcome to the dregs of the Inquisition, Commander. Most of us don’t have a shiny rack of Templar armor to cozy under, believe it or not.”

“Oh, is that what you think? That it is warmer than it is dreadfully heavy?,” he tugs you harder with the next step, and this time he has to catch you so you don’t trip. The noise of shock that pierces through the snowfall mixes with a laugh as Cullen keeps teasing. “I brave the cold to find you, and then you twist your dagger where you can, hm?”

“I suppose -” you begin. The grin spreading across your lips is coated in irony and dripping with sugary sweetness. “- someone other than Sera should keep you on your toes. Unless, of course, you’d rather I leave it all up to her and her bees-”

“Don’t you dare.”

“You didn’t like the bees?”

“Inquisitor.”

“Yes?”

“Maker’s breath - just - I - let’s go inside.” Cullen huffs, turning on his heels to leave you laughing in the face of the dark of the night. Snow was catching in his furs, his golden hair still glowing bright in the ethereal glow of snowfall - a beacon for you, in the darkness. The grip on your hand tightened, and you couldn’t help squeeze back, laughing an apology as you finally kept pace with his strides.

When you begin to shiver, the weight of a fur cloak is slung around your shoulders; the warmth burying you in a wave of peace - the first you’ve felt in months - and you rode that wave all the way to your quarters through dawn.

[aurumacadicus]

Unfortunately, Pepper and Tony have been in each other's lives long enough to rub off on each other.

--

Steve didn't think that Tony and Pepper should be looking so morose after Natasha had helpfully pulled Pepper's shirt back down. Everyone was being very polite about having gotten an eyeful of Pepper's lacy red bra after her undershirt had gotten caught in the sweater she was taking off. Sometimes embarrassing things happened! They'd all forget about it in a few days. A few hours, maybe, for some of them.

"I don't understand," Steve heard Tony moaning, which seemed very strange, considering he had been blathering on about the clinging power of fabric as Pepper blinked, stunned, while Natasha walked away. "It's the Red Bra of Justice. Natasha should have been knocked out instantly."

"HUH," Steve bellowed, spinning on his heel. He didn't even try to pretend he hadn't been listening.

Tony and Pepper blinked at him, stunned. Finally, Tony put his hands on his hips, shoulders straight as he earnestly answered, "The bra. Natasha should have been overcome with lust and finally ask Pepper out."

"HUH," Steve bellowed again, and only then did Pepper start to blush, mortification flooding over her face. "WAS THAT A NORMAL THOUGHT FOR YOU."

"...Sexy and helpless has always worked before," Tony offered helplessly.

Steve didn't know what to do in response. No words came. A lot of feelings did, though. He let out what Clint had once called "an emotional outlet of speechlessness not unlike a pterodactyl screech."

"Oh my god I can't believe I flashed the whole team trying to get Natasha to ask me out," Pepper gasped, burying her face in her hands. "Why did that seem like a good idea. Tony, I'm resigning immediately and moving to Alaska."

"I will get plastic surgery and disappear forever if you make me CEO again," Tony said, in a way that made it clear he meant it. "Also it worked on me, and I'm not even a spy who makes a living reading emotions." He eyed Pepper skeptically. "Maybe red is just too much my color. We should put you in black. More lace, too. This time we'll manufacture a more intimate setting. Natasha will definitely jump your bones then."

Steve's brain finally caught up with him. "This was all to get Natasha to ask Pepper out?"

"Well she hasn't picked up on any of our other hints!" Tony snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm dying here, Steve. Pepper's bad at asking people out."

"SO ARE YOU," Steve bellowed furiously.

Tony gasped, offended. "Excuse me? I asked Pepper out all the time. I got her a martini with seven olives."

Pepper swiveled to stare up at him, aghast. "You thought getting me a martini with seven olives was asking me out?"

"You only asked for five," Tony explained, offense fading to confusion. "I was proving I could go above and beyond."

Tony had once come up with a dozen new flavors of Super Serum-specific protein smoothie when Steve had just asked for one. Steve let out another screech. Had that also been flirting?! He was going to throw Natasha off the roof. She'd said Tony was just friendly. Then again, Pepper had been (badly) trying to seduce her and she hadn't noticed, so.

"JARVIS, tell Natasha to meet me on the roof," Steve said, turning to head for the elevator. Maybe he'd cool down by the time he got there. Maybe he'd actually try to chuck her. In any case, he was going to have words. He'd been pining for Tony for months and apparently he'd been giving off fuck-me vibes in his own special, Tony Stark way, and neither of them had noticed.

Worst case scenario, he could always throw himself off the roof, too.

[qqtxt]

[🎈] (pleasant) distraction [🦊]

[!] this is for the 1k followers mini fics. click here to find out more! ✿ pairing: yeonjun x reader / idol!txt / non.idol!you / fluff, silly / minor cursing (none with ill-intention!) / 485 words ✿ request: [tickle] + yeonjun (for one muse to tickle the other!) ✿ note: i'm so sorry but as someone who despises getting tickled, i had to come up with a scenario where it would make sense :") hope it's still enjoyable!!! [main masterlist 🌸] / [event masterlist] / [tag: #qqtxt: 1k]

yeonjun knew in his heart of hearts that this was wrong. everything about this is wrong and he knows he will beg for your forgiveness but for now, in this crucial moment, he has to take one for the team. and among everyone that you're not meant to see just yet, he knows he has to even though it will most definitely make you question his memory as your lover that you absolutely despise–"d-don't you dare do what i think you're gonna do."

"i'm so sorry, but i have to!" yeonjun quickly makes a lunge towards you and normally, it would make you squeal with excitement at the love and affection he's about to shower you with... except this time you notice his fingers wiggling in your direction and–"don't you fu–!"

the sound you let out is horrendous given the onslaught of tickle attacks that yeonjun brings to your sides and chases you after. you're trying your best to avoid him and dodge him, or even try to beeline towards the door of his dorm that would either provide you sanctuary or become the hell-hole of tickling events but given that yeonjun has the keys, it's highly unlikely that he'll open it for you and–"stop it! jun! i swear i will kick you in the face if you keep–!" you can barely continue your sentence(s) when the tickling doesn't stop and it's getting painful. the screeches and screaming and the pain comes to a stop altogether when the door swings open and you're... wait... what the hell is going on?

you can barely process that the pain has faded away, replaced with yeonjun's hand to help you up when the chorus of voices begins singing a familiar tune of happy birthday, dear y/n! happy birthday to you! 

yeonjun not only pulls you up physically, but metaphorically, out of your dazed state when you process the people circling around you with a lit-up cake. your body is going on auto-pilot, blowing the candles in one swift breath before the loud cheers erupt. yeonjun does his best to settle you back down by bringing you into his arms; a hand by the back of your head and the other pulling you around the waist into his embrace swiftly. it makes you emotional as you take in the people around you that's here to celebrate you but more so when the one you love is holding you like this.

"happy birthday baby," yeonjun murmurs into your ears, kissing the side of your head. your hands settle on his waist... only to begin the terror that is payback when yeonjun lets out a very loud pterodactyl screech that has everyone laughing when they see how quick yeonjun repels from you to make a run for it while begging for your forgiveness. (with taehyun and beomgyu taking bets on how long yeonjun would let you tickle him before the man would give up and surrender)

[panthera-dei]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 3

Prompt: "Vertigo" / "Struggling to stand"

Fandom: n/a... All OCs this time.

Story Title: "Maggie and Macaw"

Story Info:

Characters: OFC, creature OC

Rating: G

No warnings apply

Cw: dinosaur / dragon creatures

Some background information: a dear friend of mine introduced me to the Story Engine, a deck of cards that are a lovely brainstorming tool for writers. These are the prompts I used to create this one: A genius wants to unravel the mystery of a portal but they must let go of something precious they are holding onto.

Story text beneath the cut!

@whumperless-whump-event

Maggie knew she was in a dream, but it didn't feel like it. The pale yellow grass tickled her elbows and crunched beneath her feet as she pushed her way through the endless prairie. Blue and yellow flowers in colors too vivid swayed in a breeze that carried a sweet and unfamiliar scent. The sky above her was an emerald green, and while she was no expert in constellations, she didn't recognize a single star.

The dream was the same every time: she would fight her way through grass almost as tall as she was, and then she would stop when she heard the singing.

The voices were clear and harmonious, cutting through the atmosphere. They were reminiscent of bells or chimes, a song with no words, and yet the voices sounded human, or close to it. She never could see where they were coming from.

The same dream, every night for the past three weeks. One would assume that she'd be having nightmares about her upcoming first day of work, but no - instead, the 20-year-old college graduate was dreaming about a song on a distant planet.

She adjusted her faded cap - fortunately, she wasn't wearing anything weird in this dream - and stepped forward into a clearing where the grass was short. Three weeks of this dream, and tonight she was finally going to get to the bottom of it.

“Hello?” she called out, started by the way her voice echoed across the prairie.

All at once, the entire atmosphere fell silent, the song stilled. And then, everything erupted into sound again, as thousands of leathery wings beat the air in flight.

Maggie stumbled backwards in shock. Creatures in every color shot into the air out of the grass, squawking and screeching. Though they were mostly a colorful blur, they looked to Maggie almost like miniature pterodactyls, or maybe -

“Dragon!” Maggie squeaked in fear as one of the creatures landed less than two feet away from her sneakers.

It was about three feet tall and four feet wide, and it was a lot like a pterodactyl, with a skinny body that was mostly wings and leathery skin in an odd pastel yellow hue. Like a wyvern from a folklore book, it had two back legs and a long tail, and wings with talons rather than front legs. In the face, though, it looked like a fairy tale dragon.

Maggie scrambled backwards until she realized that the creature, rather than attacking, tilted its head in curiosity. It sniffed the air, and its beady eyes lit up upon seeing a blue flower that Maggie, in her attempt to escape, had crushed. It snapped up the flower in its jaws and swallowed it whole with an almost comical gulp.

“You're - you’re an herbivore? … Oh, what am I saying, there's no way you understand me.”

The dragon let out a chirp, and then it began to sing.

Following its lead, the other creatures settled themselves into the grass and joined the song.

“It's you,” Maggie whispered. “You're the ones who are singing in this dream.”

She still didn't know if the creature could understand her, but it did fall silent again and it looked at her.

Maggie woke up with a jolt, gasping for air. She bolted upright, and the entire room was spinning. She took a second to feel what was around her - she was in bed, in her pajamas, and her silver locket was still around her neck. She tried to get to her feet, fumbling for the lamp, but she was too dizzy, and she fell flat on her back, feeling her head collide with the hardwood floor.

Just before she blacked out, she thought she saw a yellow reptilian face with beady eyes looking down at her.

[tintenspion]

I let ChatGPT write a movie script for a movie about Frederick the Great and dinosaurs and it somehow included Ernst Udet:

FADE IN:

EXT. A JURASSIC FOREST - DAY

The camera pans over a dense, prehistoric jungle. We hear the roar of a dinosaur in the distance. Suddenly, a group of Velociraptors burst through the underbrush, chasing after something.

CUT TO:

INT. A PRUSSIAN CASTLE - DAY

We see Frederick the Great (played by Daniel Day-Lewis) sitting in his throne room, surrounded by advisors. He is holding a letter that he just received.

FREDERICK THE GREAT: What is the meaning of this? Dinosaurs roaming free in my kingdom?

ADVISOR: Your Majesty, it seems that a group of dinosaurs have escaped from a nearby island and are now on the loose.

FREDERICK THE GREAT: (sighs) Very well. Send in my top dinosaur expert.

CUT TO:

INT. THE CASTLE DUNGEON - DAY

Ernst Udet (played by Tom Hardy), a rugged adventurer and dinosaur expert, is being held captive for some unknown reason.

FREDERICK THE GREAT: (entering the dungeon) Herr Udet, we need your help. A group of dinosaurs has been spotted in the kingdom, and we need you to capture them.

UDET: (smirks) Sounds like my kind of adventure.

CUT TO:

EXT. THE JURASSIC FOREST - DAY

Frederick the Great and Ernst Udet lead a group of Prussian soldiers into the jungle to capture the dinosaurs. They are armed with muskets and swords.

SUDDENLY, a group of Triceratops charge towards them. The soldiers begin firing their muskets, but the dinosaurs are too strong.

FREDERICK THE GREAT: (to Udet) Do something!

UDET: (grinning) With pleasure.

Udet pulls out a whip and swings it around his head. He manages to lasso a Triceratops and brings it down to the ground.

FREDERICK THE GREAT: (impressed) I had no idea you were such an expert with a whip.

UDET: (smirks) It's a long story.

CUT TO:

EXT. THE JURASSIC PLAINS - DAY

Frederick, Udet, and the soldiers are now in a clearing, surrounded by a herd of Stegosauruses.

FREDERICK THE GREAT: (nervously) What do we do now?

UDET: (confidently) Leave it to me.

Udet pulls out a flute and begins to play a catchy tune. The Stegosauruses begin to sway back and forth, hypnotized by the music.

FREDERICK THE GREAT: (amazed) Incredible! How did you do that?

UDET: (smirks) It's a long story.

CUT TO:

EXT. THE JURASSIC BEACH - DAY

Frederick, Udet, and the soldiers are now facing a group of Pterodactyls, flying towards them with menacing screeches.

FREDERICK THE GREAT: (terrified) We're done for!

UDET: (determined) Not so fast.

Udet pulls out a rocket launcher and takes aim at the Pterodactyls. He fires a rocket, which explodes in mid-air, taking out several of the creatures.

FREDERICK THE GREAT: (amazed) That was incredible!

UDET: (smirks) It's a long story.

And then it just ended 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

[wolfsong-the-bloody-beast]

I can't believe Haer'Dalis isn't a romance option. I mean, a tiefling, bard, drama queen, keeps calling Gorion's Ward "my raven," gives out bisexual vibes. Like, hello? Are they telling me they give us one man to romance and he doesn't even have one drop of demon blood in him? This is an outrage!

[hvstias]

Sova: Where's Raze?

Skye: with breach and fade, they're teaching her how to drive.

Sova: Breach. Fade. teaching Raze. how to drive.

Skye:

Skye: Fuck

[Meanwhile]

Breach: So there's two pedals. Sometimes there's three, but you can ignore the left ones.

Raze: 'Kay.

Fade: The lines on the road are more suggestions than anything, same with the speed limit.

Raze: Sweet.

Breach: This switch is for the blinkers, hasn't worked in two years. Ready?

Raze: Fuck yeah.

Breach & Fade: GO

Raze, flooring it: *pterodactyl screeching*

[childotkw]

Vantage anon - you may also enjoy Halfy & Winks song Oblivion ;)

You: *suggest yet another banging song*

Me: *pterodactyl screech*

GOOD SHIT! 😭

--- -- ---

Pride in myself was something I swore would never die Gaining respect means giving up a past life The illusion crafted by my arrogance Had protected me from the wrong that I couldn't admit

Now I lay across the dust ridden floor Knowing now that regrets shouldn't be ignored Left to waste, now I see how you must have felt When the world began to change and I followed Floods of memories drown me in the abyss Ceiling fades, empty space, hanging barely from a cliff That's thousands of feet tall

And now I fall Now I fall Into oblivion

Landing back at the beginning of our prime We'd built ourselves and our kingdom in the summer sun One brick at a time

Now those walls are nothing but rubble and dust What was once silver lining of us has turned to rust In those days when we'd fight our demons together If we had started over, oh, I wonder Would I be descending through the darkness Through the fire and the rain and the mist? Would the air fail to catch me as I failed to catch you?

Would we have fallen Fallen Into oblivion?

Alone in this empty room All I hear now is the ambience of our faded tune How fragile of me to break so easily Fear took the lead Now I'm still falling

Falling Falling Into oblivion Into oblivion

[hellishmess]

21: The Union Festival pt. 2

September 22,2018 [11:12 pm]

[Ana pov ]

Everything changed in a heartbeat.

Loud bangs shook the ground underneath me. People were running, taking cover. I ran too, but not before I saw some pterodactyl looking creature take a woman in its claws and lift her to the sky.

The halls of the center building was a mess. Gifted tried to defend themselves, but no one had weapons and the creatures were horrible.

A scream.

"Demons!" Someone shouted.

It was a frenzy. Instinct shoved common thought out of my brain. It had me running down an adjoining hall, away from the chaos of the main one and all the monsters.

I dove into a small hidden crevice. It had a door made of the same stone material as the walls.

I shoved against it, begging it to move.

A sickening crunching sound came from the main hallway. Panic and fear bolted all movement. I froze, back, pressed up into the crevice’s corner.

When the noise faded I managed a final shove against the door, earning entry with an open the door. I plunged into darkness, and darkness engulfed me. The door shut behind me with a final grate.

I collapsed on the floor, my back still against the door. My breaths were erratic. The booming of the blood in my ears was all I could hear.

Monsters and death was outside.

Aspen was somewhere out there too.

Christ! I should have went with her to get the punch.

I banged my head against the door.

I scrambled to find my phone, thankful it was still in the leather garter she let me borrow.

Flicking on flashlight, I stifled a scream again. I wasn't alone. A body was laid out flat along the back wall with someone crouching in front of their face. Another was curled in the far corner.

Men. The one crouching and the one in the corner turned.

I could have cried at the familiar face.

"Ana!" Eli exclaimed softly. "How'd you get in here?"

"I saw a maid leave from here." Moving closer, I saw who Eli was crouched over.

Samuel’s body was mauled with long gashes shredding his skin. They created caverns in his body. 

I backed away. I escaped one circle of hell only to climb into another. I wasn't an idiot. He'll be looking for something to eat soon.

"Ana," Eli said. His worry moving from Samuel to me. "It's okay. He's unconscious."

"Oh god. Oh god," I hit the wall. Everything’s closing in. I try to focus on the light from my phone but even that was growing dim. "Oh god."

My breathing was erratic. My lungs were heaving, but my muscles tingled as if they weren't getting enough air. Maybe they were getting too much?

"Ana. Calm down." Eli sounded so far away.

"Oh holy shit." My knees shook. I felt the slide down the wall. The coolness of it touched my skin. Was I going to pass out?

Someone had grabbed me, their hands gripping my chin to force my head up. It was Eli.

Suddenly he was all I knew. The depth of his voice as he said my name, the blue allure of his eyes. I waited for him to say something to me, I'd wait forever if I had too.

"Ana," His voice reverberated in my soul. "I need you to calm down."

I took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. In, hold for a moment, then out. I repeated that task for a moment, still looking at Eli, still waiting for him to say something else.

He looked away, and the spell snapped.

"Shit," My hand ran through my hair. He just compelled me.

Eli apologized, "Sorry. I didn't know any other way to get you to chill."

I shook my hand, "No, it's fine. I think I was going to have a panic attack."

Eli went back to Samuel.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Some creature had him pinned. It had 4 arms and claws a foot long." Eli's lips turned up at the grotesque creature he saw.

I understood and took another deep breath. I didn't want to be weak. I wasn't weak. What would Aspen do?

An image of her popped into my mind. She stood tall, defiant against any adversary. 

"Can he sit up?"

Eli shook his head. "No the witch over there put him under."

I glanced into the dark corner. The man was still curled up, his eyes blank as they met mine.

"He needs blood?" I asked.

Eli nodded.

"Let him feed from me." I said. "Just enough for him to heal and get some of his strength back."

Eli was shaking his head. "No way. I don't know if he'd stop. It's too risky."

"It doesn't matter. He's old, right? Powerful? We need to get out of here. We're just sitting ducks here. I mean have you seen the monsters out there?! He’s our strongest bet of making it out alive."

I scoot closer, raising my wrist to Eli. A stubborn set to my jaw. This was the only way, I told myself. The best way.

Eli hesitates, "Have you ever been bit before?"

I suck in a breath, my answer delayed. That was enough to tell him.

"This won't be pleasant," he warned. "This is really fucking dangerous."

"Yeah. Well I don't expect it to tickle and this whole situation is unpleasant." I brought my wrist up to his face. "Lets just get it done. I'm serious. I don't plan on dying just yet."

With frown, Eli took my wrist. I knew the unspoken words that hung between us. You just might if we do this.

His lips part to reveal fangs. I close my eyes. Flinching back, my eyelids pop open at the sudden sting from the bite. Eli withdraws immediately.

With a shaky breath, I quickly cover Samuel's mouth. My blood dripping between his lips.

He's still for a second. Worry starts to form.

I stifle another scream into a yelp. Samuel's latched himself to my wrist, his fangs splitting the bite even farther.

I cry out, feeling the flick of his tongue and the draw of my blood.

Suddenly, he's on top of me, snapping my head sideways to split the skin at my throat.

Pain erupts throughout my whole body, but my screams are muffled by a hand. I struggle to breath. Samuel has me fully immobilized.

Tears run down my face as I stare into the darkness. The pressure of Samuel is gone.

"Samuel," Eli's there. He's somewhere close. "She healed you."

I can't move. Shock keeps me on the ground.

Eli's closer, crouching over me this time. "Hey. You want some blood from me? It would heal you and give you your strength back."

I shake my head. I don't feel too bad. The shock dissipates allowing me to be sharply aware of my situation.

"At least let me heal the bite," Eli presses.

"Okay."

Eli pulls me in close. His tongue against my mangled throat, before hitting my wrist.

It was awkward, but I was grateful. I didn't want the open wounds or the scars.

An itching burn blossomed within seconds. My hands went to scratch but Eli brought them back down. "Don't. It's your skin multiplying and healing."

I curl my fingers into fists until the itch subsides. Slowly I manage to stand. I wasn't as weak as I thought I'd be.

Upon expressing my shock, I learn why.

"It's because I didn't take much from you. You're blood is surprisingly strong. I'm healed and at full strength from just three mouthfuls." Samuel said.

I push that out the window. "We need to get out of here."

"I agree," Samuel says.

"There’s a hallways over here," the witch says. He stood in a tight little stone walkway.

Samuel takes the lead position. "Let's go."

We all file out. It's eerily quiet. Only sometimes broken by the faint crash or scream.

The pace is quick. I drag a hand along the wall, my flashlight in my hand so only some light leaked through.

Samuel leads us up some stairs and into a kitchen. The sound of fighting and monsters is so much closer.

A high pitched screech sounds, making me flinch back into Eli. It’s too hellish to be human.

My eardrums ring. I see something fly by the little window in the kitchen.

A huge hound-like creature crashed through the door. It's jaws big enough to crush my skull, the beast stood easily at my stomach.

I gasp, backing away as it eyes us all. It's breath creeps into the room as it pants. I cough. My lungs start to burn. The witch grabs me and shoved my shirt over my mouth and nose.

"Hell hounds exhale toxic gas." He says.

The beast lunges forwards but Samuel meets it head on. We scurry to the edges of the kitchen while Samuel wrangles the beast. His stomach and thighs were scratched by its claws before he maneuvered himself behind it.

Samuel grabs the hounds jaws, prying them apart as it tries to snap. Soon the dog falls, it's jaw split wide open.

I stand there. Not moving, not blinking. This is crazy. Yet no one is really batting an eye? This was this world. I'm apart of this now.

"Ana!" Eli whispers. "Come on!"

I see Samuel grab another kitchen knife. The witch and Samuel following suit. I grab a frying pan.

We all slip through a back door and burst outside. The hell out here is being battled by gifted and some others.

In a blazing strike, lightning takes down 5 monsters at once. I see the woman that the power came from. Her eyes shining and her hair standing up from her electricity.

Another screech and something blurs in my the corner of my eyes. I knock to the ground, squealing as something with claws and a long snout tried to eat my face. The only thing saving me is my pan.

It lets out a scream of its own, a loud pain-filled bellow. I fling myself away as it's skin bubbles and boils.

A figure is rushing over, through the smoke and the chaos. "Aspen!" I yell, unsure of myself.

She comes and scoops me up in her arms. "Are you okay?!"

I look at the body on the ground. It was the demon version of a goose, with a long neck, two rows of fangs, and wings with claws at the bend of them.

"Yea. Thanks to you." I pull her close. Maybe this wasn't the time for hugs but god I couldn't stop myself. Aspen wrapped her hands around me.

But I get jostled to the side. A huge shadow looms over us all. Aspen moves towards it, encircling the 15ft tall monstrosity. Samuel and Eli draw its attention too.

I sit, stunned and hawking as they attack this Grendel like beast.

The creature swipes at Eli with a huge paw. It was crazy fast for its size, but Eli managed to duck just in time.

Samuel used his knife, stabbing at its muscles. It roars when blood gushed out of its wound.

Still, it wasn’t enough to slow it down, and Samuel’s plan backfired quickly. He hissed, recoiling in pain when the blood touched his hand.

The creature started to move but found himself unable. Aspen was to the back of it, out of sight with her hands raised. Slowly they moved together.

I saw the hard look of concentration, watched as the creature’s body bent. Aspen was crushing this thing.

Samuel and Eli step back. A confused glance was shared before Eli points to Aspen.

She ends this. Literally crushing the creature down to the ground. It squirmed, but it didn't move. It couldn't.

The realization that it might literally explode had me running behind one of the oak trees.

Just as I thought, with a last shove from Aspen the creature flattens. Blood spews in a nauseating show of gore. My eyes close, expecting the acidic blood to burn towards us.

It doesn't. The barrier Aspen set up kept it all contained like glass. Trails of dark green blood slid to the ground.

It was silent.

Aspen comes back up to me. Her hands grazing my face, then my throat. "Jesus Christ. What happened to you?"

My mind whirls. "No time. We need to go get somewhere safe!"

I twist to run, but she holds me still. "Ana, we've got them all. The Assault team was quick to respond and we managed to contain and kill the wave of creatures."

"What?" I looked around. Bodies of human and creature shapes lie dead around us. Nothing moved. The panic died down. "Oh thank god."

I pull Aspen into another hug, tears threatening to roll. "I should have went with you to get the punch."

Aspen hugs me back, her arms wrapping around me in the strong way that I loved. "I'm glad you’re safe." She pulls way, holding me at arms distance as she looks me over again. "Jesus what happened here?" Aspen draws up my wrist where crusty blood trails bled. Her eyes got to my throat next.

I notice her jaw clench, her eyes sliding over to the two vampires among us, and got the strange wariness one feels when unsheathing a sharp blade.

I bit my lip. Might as well be truthful and save these two from whatever anger is brewing. "I fed Samuel to heal him so he could get us out of the room we were in."

"You what?" She snaps. Her voice rough. There was a darkness in her gaze. She wasn't looking at me though. No, her eyes were pinned on Samuel.

I gently pull her focus back to me. She softened up when I sheepishly smiled at her, "Yeah. I escaped into their room, Eli saved me from a having panic attack and passing out, and then I tried to get myself to act like how you would."

Aspen just stared at me. Her lips parted slightly.

I clarified what I meant, "Strong and unafraid."

Aspen’s laugh was gentle as she grabs my wrist where she rubs off all the crusted blood. "So you think I would have risked my health to feed a hungry vampire?"

My face starts to redden, and I shake my head. "I didn't feed him because I thought that's what you would have done. I know you would have done something else, something better, but I fed him because I thought that's what I needed to do to stay alive. He was the most powerful friend I had at the moment. We all needed him."

"Smart, I guess. Ballsy definitely," She says. She turns to Samuel next. "You tell her thank you?"

Samuel's eyes narrow. He looks like he's going to snarl something nasty.

"He doesn't need to. He got us out safely." I interject.

"He should. You saved him, too." Aspen retorts, but she doesn't fight. "Let's go before we get roped into having to clean this clusterfuck."

I laugh, feeling all the tension in my body release.

Aspen leads us out to where the cars are parked. I think to thank Samuel but decide against it. I thank Eli instead.

"No problem." He replies. "I'm glad we all get to go home tonight."

"Me too," Aspen agrees. "Thanks for helping her."

Eli nods again and we turn away, walking throughout the destroyed lawn together.

Aspen squeezes my hand. "You don't understand how happy I am you're safe."

"Same here." I utter, looking at the damage. "I was worried about you."

Aspen laughs as if she can't believe the thought. "Don't worry about me. I'm okay."

We're quiet as we hit the sea of cars. Finding our own was gonna be hard. Aspen raised her hand and clicks her keys. Nothing sounds.

We head down the rows.

"Did you really think of me to draw strength from?" Aspen’s voice is low when she asks.

I smile, getting the faint feeling this is an important question to her. "Of course I did. You're the strongest person I know. I envy you."

Aspen nudges her body into me, dropping the subject at that. "Come on. I think I see the car."

[tyrustrash]

Huge Updates

Hey, all! As you know, the world is in a certain state right now causing us to change our daily lives. One change for me is that I now have more time and motivation to write. Also, I published a book on Amazon!! It is a collection of short stories, some of which you have seen but with some changes (For obvious reasons) The link is this: Orientation https://www.amazon.com/dp/B085RRGQ2N/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_i_919HEbGVEBPPR Also, I am in the process of writing three more books!!!! Which is what I wanted to share with you. The chapters below will be the first two chapters of my young adult novel. The story is about two guys from seemingly different paths meet each other and bond over their shared pain. Theo is a member of a band that is trying to get signed to an agency, while Lucky is his college's best soccer player trying to get his team to nationals. They begin a secret relationship as they uncover more about themselves and their dark pasts. Some more info about the book: the couple is white-latino/asain, contains some sexual content, eating disorders, self-harm, and more. The other novels in development are as followed: 1. A story following a group of guys on a reality competition show competing to be members of a new boy band. 2. A group of teenagers gaining special powers and forming a team to save their town, and the world, from danger. (Has potential to be a series) 3. The other book I mentioned is another collection of never before seen short stories. I hope y'all enjoy the preview of my first novel! Chapter 1: Lo Mejor Comienza The crowd cheered their lungs out as they hyped up their favorite band, Going After You. The sold-out stadium held 40,000 of their fans holding every bit of merchandise the group had. There were a few fortunate fans that struggled their way onto the stage to get ahold of a member, but security managed to drag them away. However, one fan was able to grab the edge of Lucas' shirt and pull off a piece as she was being dragged off. Lucas didn't mind it though, he took it as a sign that he was their favorite, which he had that thought for all the fans. The members of the band looked out into the crowd and smiled as they continued their set. Lucas made sure to make his perfectly white teeth reflect the stage lights into the audience as he gave his perfect smile while he sang. His posture gave off high-end clothing store mannequin vibes: same old them as the rest, but somehow seen as better since where it came from. Gabe banged the drums while giving his rounds of pterodactyl screeching in between beats. The sweat coming from his head flew across the stage because of his hair flinging around caused by his head banging. Blake played his guitar with his swift fingers as he harmonized with Lucas. He had this chill aura around him that seemed to say that he was going with the flow. Lastly, Theo focused his attention on his keyboard. Unlike his bandmates, Theo chose to maintain his attention on his instrument. Not because he didn't appreciate his fans, all the hours spent writing letters and sending autographs said otherwise. He found it hard to multitask since he would get caught up in one thing and ignore the other. At one point in the concert he attempted to nod and smile to the fans, but he got off-key and played the wrong notes. Other than that one mishap, that night had gone well. The band stayed after for three hours to do the meet and greet with the fans. Although their entire bodies were hurting like hell, the pain was worth it if it meant making their fans happy. Everything was running smoothly. Fans stood in a straight line, which was harder than it seemed given they would let their excitement control them and try to form a tsunami, then they would get a picture with the group. So on and so on. This whole cycle repeated itself, concert and after show activities, for three weeks, with another six to go, they never wanted it to end. It was what they always dreamt about. All the hard work, all the nights without sleep, all the tears shed due to the stress-induced anxiety. All of it was finally worth it. However, sometimes it seemed liked hell on Earth. The pain and scars on their hands from their instruments. The times where they lost their voice from singing for up to eight hours a day. The visits to the hospital for when fans get too wild and would manage to make contact with a member. It was challenging in the beginning to form a balance, but it eventually happened. They wanted stardom to continue. They wanted to win a Grammy, star in their own movie, and go down as one of the greatest bands in musical history. Aside from those generic goals, each member had their own goal. Lucas wanted to be a model in New York Fashion Week. Gabe wanted to be the new owner of Playboy magazine. Blake wanted to start a non-profit organization. Theo wanted the loud banging would end. The loud banging. Theo rapidly blinked his eyes and looked around, suddenly snapping out of his daydream. He felt the cold water of the shower over his body. He wiped some of the water off of his face, also while taking a deep breath. He was at a loss of words, mainly because there was nothing for him to say at this point. "Two and a half hours." Lucas softly yelled, but in a nice way, from the other side of the door. "Hurry up. Some of us need our beauty shower." Although his time in the shower always took at least two hours, which all the others knew at that point, it felt like ten minutes. He always tried to shorten his time, but he never got around to fixing it. He never got around to fixing himself. "That's not a real thing." Theo heard Blake make the comment. "Oh shut up" Lucas said as his voice faded off, presumably going off to get his bathing kit from his room. Theo looked down and realized that there were still bits of thrown up food on the floor of the shower. It was rare that he would go off into his imagination after his habit. His shower routine typically consisted of beginning contemplating life, then spend most of his time dreaming, and end with him panic purging while rushing to get done. But lately he has been under a lot of stress. He finished up cleaning and turned the shower off. He placed an extra towel on the floor, per the request of Lucas, so that water didn't get all over the floor. As he dried himself off, he wiped off some steam that was on the mirror. The way he looked at his reflection, it was like seeing someone he didn't know. It was like there was something missing, something wrong. He looked around the room and his eyes fixated on random objects. Blake's razor that he always left out. A pair of Gabe's underwear, something that the boy always forgot to take to his room once he finished showering. Judging by the pair it seemed like it had been there for two days. His eyes locked on the can of air freshener sitting on top of the toilet. He felt short of breath seeing the tiny droplet of blood on the bottom of the can. He picked it up and turned it. Feeling the aluminum on his hands made his breathing stagger, it made his lip quiver. He inhaled sharply as his hands gripped the can tighter. Bringing the can closer to his body, a tear rolled down his cheek. Before he could do anything else, Lucas shouting stopped him, for now. "I need to get in now if I plan on getting enough sleep tonight." "I'm almost done." Theo said monotonal. He wished he meant it, but it's only the beginning. Gripping the can, causing his hands to fade into red, he turned his attention to the door. What was on the other side could have helped him, but it was no use. He was of no use. Not wanting to do anything else, he came back to his normal state of mind and brushed his hair with the brush that he has had since he was eight. He checked his phone for any notifications, but there was nothing. He frowned thinking he ruined everything. He put on his night hoodie and shorts then exited into the hall. Upon entering the hallway, he took note of Lucas and Blake arguing over some skincare routine. Lucas swore he needed to spend at least an hour on his routine for it to work, however, Blake counterattacked that he shouldn't be rushing Theo since he would spend as much time in the bathroom. Lucas grabbed his suitcase-sized bag of products and carried it into the bathroom. Theo grew worried that he was the one who had caused their argument, then wished he had used the can. Blake sighed as he plopped down on the couch. He turned on the TV and Pitch Perfect was playing. He turned up the volume but made sure it wasn't loud enough to wake up Gabe who was already asleep. They had their TV set to just music-themed programs, thanks to Gabe's technological skill. Last night they watched the first season of Glee. They wanted to watch every known music-related thing so they could take inspiration and help with their band. Their band. Although they had only been active for a year, they managed to gain a steady following and regular gigs at some small clubs that would allow a group of high schoolers to perform. Going After You was named after them chasing their dream to be the next big thing, which didn't make sense to some people but it was the group's style. However, they have yet to make any real progress in the real world. Maybe it had to do with them constantly changing their music style, but whatever it was, they needed to buckle down. Theo walked to the kitchen and poured himself a big glass of milk, with a bendy straw to go through the lid. He contemplated for a bit before he made the cup, but he needed something to ease his stomach. He made his way over to the couch and sat next to Blake. "Just like my showers, you should be used to Lucas' skin routine." Theo said as he brought his legs up to sit crisscrossed. Blake chuckled as he took a bite of the sandwich he had made earlier. "I know, but it still gets annoying. Mainly because he thinks it'll actually work. He's been doing that shit for a year now and it hasn't done a damn thing." Theo laughed a little, nearly causing him to snort out milk. "Come on, you're supposed to be the nice one of us." "Can't be the nice one when Lucas has been keeping me awake for the past two hours because he needed someone to complain to about not being able to get into the bathroom." "Sorry." Theo said with a soft voice. "Don't worry about it, I had some fun messing with him. It's so fun freaking him out." Theo gave out a soft laugh before Blake straightened himself a little. His face became a mixture of concern and stern, making Theo tense up and scoot away from him. "So, you know you're supposed to be last in the bathroom order." Theo looked down at his cup. He tried not frowning, but kept his feelings to himself, like always. "It was just that I had dinner before you guys." "What does that have to do with anything?" Before Theo could answer, Gabe walked in from his room, in only his underwear. He scratched his lower back as he made his way to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and drank some milk straight from the jug. Blake let out a heavy groan, but Gabe didn't care. After that, Gabe grabbed a beer and went to sit in the recliner. Gabe was the one that didn't care about how he looked, he always had high confidence in himself that he didn't care what others thought about him. One time he went to school in a skintight spandex suit that outlined some of his more prominent features, resulting in him having to be sent home to change. Another time he went streaking across the neighborhood. He even managed to outrun the cops that were called. As he sipped his beer, Gabe adjusted his crotch which caused Blake to make a face of disgust. "Bro, I'm trying to eat." "Don't act like you've never adjusted yourself." Gabe replied while keeping his focus on the TV. He took another sip. "We're all guys, we've all done it." "But at least I have the decency to not do that while someone's eating." As the two discussed crotch touching and other typical guy things that Theo never understood or cared enough to learn more about, Theo stared blankly ahead, focusing on nothing. The world around him started fading and his surroundings transitioned into a new setting as he went back into his dreamworld for the eighth time that day. This time he imagined them all performing at his future wedding. He was marrying the person people expected him to marry, but he was sharing the moment with his closest friends, nothing could ruin it. Well, one thing. The person he imagined he was marrying. It was the wrong person. Wrong for him, but right for his parents. As he played his keyboard, he used his peripheral vision and he saw his parents sitting in the front while cheering his name. Their cheers grew louder and louder. Every time they said his name, he found it harder to concentrate. The loudness became unbearable to the point it snapped him back to reality, where he found where he heard his name being shouted. Theo sat between his two friends as they were both looking at him. Gabe patted Theo's shoulder as he leaned closer. "So, which is it?" "Which is what?" Theo asked as he became confused. He looked at the hand on his shoulder and started to build up panic. Blake let out a sigh as he tossed his paper plate in the trash can next to the couch. "The theme for our gig tomorrow night. I wanted to go for more modern and pop-ish since it would fit the crowd, but Gabe wants full out punk and rock and roll." "I thought y'all were talking about crotches." Theo remarked as he stirred the straw in his cup, seemingly easing himself. He scrunched his face thinking about his friends talk about touching themselves. "We were." Said Gabe. He finished his beer and tossed it towards the trash can, but missed. Blake picked it up and threw it away. "But it turned into trying to finalize what we're doing tomorrow." "I don't care. Just decide. It's just a soccer game that we're performing at. I mean, who even does that? And a college game too." Gabe chuckled as he patted Theo's back. "It's a paid gig, and it's exposure. "You say that every time." Blake told him. "Well, it is. And it would be one of the biggest crowds we've performed at. Anyone could be watching, like an agent, or scouts for a reality show." "You also say that every time." "Man, what's your deal? You don't seem like you care." "I care. It's just that if we keep changing our style for each performance, then it'll be harder to get signed to a label." "It's called having range. It shows we can do any genre." Gabe turned back to Theo. "So, what style? "Pop, I guess. We've done that the most and it seems to be a crowd pleaser every time." Theo said after thinking for a second. Like Gabe, he was just as eager to get signed. But like Blake, he had the mindset of sticking to one style until they get signed. Another moment in their band career that seemed to be one of the most challenging things. Before Theo could get up and go to his room, he noticed the marks on Gabe. There were kiss marks made from pink lipstick covering the area above Gabe's boxers. He pointed at them, resulting in the other two to look. "What's that?" Gabe laughed. "Come on, man. I know you haven't been with a girl, but I'm sure you know what this is and where it came from." "Is she here now?" Blake asked as he stood up. His face getting redder than a teacher's mark on a test when they give someone an "F". "I mean, obviously. I came out of my room when we finished. Fucking my girlfriend really makes me thirsty." "Bro, you know what the lease says. No overnight guests." "What they don't know won't hurt them." "Hold up, how long has she been here? When did you bring her?" "About four hours ago. We've been at it that long, a new record. Had to miss dinner, but don't worry, I ate alright." Theo shook his head. "Wait, she's been here for a while? Usually you two make as much noise as possible." "Wanted to try it out to see if we could, now we know we can do it even while y'all are asleep. But it was hard getting it one while having to hear y'all argue over some damn skincare routine, but perhaps the arguing helped cover it up a little." "No no no." Blake interjected, completely ignoring the second part. "She is not allowed overnight." "Come on. It's not that serious. She has stayed over countless times before and no one noticed." "What! Do you know how much trouble we'll be in if we're caught? We could be evicted!" "Calm thyself. We haven't been caught yet, and we won't. As long as you don't snitch. Besides, don't act like you've never broken that rule." Blake fell silent for a quick second. He blinked rapidly before speaking with a slightly higher-pitched voice. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Melissa. I know she has stayed over before after one of your escapades." "That was different." "How?" "It was accidental. We went to sleep immediately afterwards and forgot." "Yeah right." "Theo, you have anything to say right now?" Blake asked as a way of changing the subject, but no response. He and Gabe looked back and saw Theo standing at the side of the couch staring blankly at the wall. "THEO!" Theo blinked rapidly and gazed his attention to the two of them. "What now?" "Nothing." Blake sighed. "Just go to bed now. You really need the sleep." Before anyone could do anything else, the bathroom door opened and Lucas stepped out. His face was covered with one of his face masks. "Can y'all stop arguing, please. The yelling isn't good for my skin." "The hell." Gabe said. "How is us yelling upsetting your skin?" "I'll have you know that people yelling makes me stress, and stress can cause breakouts. I can't have any of that, especially at tomorrow's gig. In fact, I can't have that ever. I have to stay looking flawless." Before Lucas could continue with his routine, he turned to Blake. "Before you freak out again and we have a repeat of tonight, I've also broken that rule. Better get your rage out now and soon. Can't have too much more yelling." Blake couldn't say anything to him since he quickly slammed the door. With a final huff for the night he went to his room. Gabe smirked. "It's adorable when he loses." "Maybe." Theo said. He went to the kitchen and rinsed out his cup. While he was there, he began doing everyone's dishes, not because they had a rotation, but because he wanted to. "Sometimes it's hard dealing with an argument over the smallest things." "But sometimes it's fun. Right?" Theo smiled a little. "Yeah. Can be." "That's the spirit!" Gabe grabbed two more beers from the fridge and before he headed to his room, he went beside Theo. He placed a hand on his shoulder, causing Theo to become worried. "Hey, you'll find a girl someday, just keep looking. And I'll make sure to not tell Blake if you bring her over and you want her to stay over." "Thanks." The faintness of Theo's voice was barely audible. He didn't even look at Gabe, only keeping his head down. Gabe went into his room, leaving Theo alone. He looked around and took in his surroundings. Just a plain and small apartment the group found a few months ago. They saved up from all their gigs for nearly a year to be able to afford it. It wasn't anything to brag about, but it was better than what he had before. His family, his neighbors, everything about his old life, it was too much. He wanted to leave it all, and he did. Or so he thought. After pushing back any memories from his past he wanted to forget, and also finishing washing the dishes, he made his way to his room. Along the way he heard moaning coming from Gabe's room. Before he could enter his own room, Lucas stepped out of the bathroom, bare naked except for some scrub covering most of his body. Theo attempted not to look, but failed since Lucas always made a presence when he entered a room. "Ayo, Theo." He said, his hand on his hip, hip sticking out. "Don't worry about what Gabe said. You know how he is." Theo could barely form a sentence. "How do you know what he said?" "Dude, the apartment is smaller than Gabe's brain. You can hear everything." They laughed. Theo turned the handle of his door. "Nice to see you taking time out of your routine to console me." Lucas shrugged. "No biggie. Besides, I had to let my body scrub settle." "I can see." He thought for a second. "Well, I don't want to see. I've always questioned what you did in there for so long, maybe I didn't have to know." "Well, know you do. Now, what do you do in the shower that takes two hours?" Theo's eyes slightly widened. He felt short of breath but pulled together a response. "You'll never know." He said in a quick and sassy tone. Lucas nodded at Theo before he went back inside the bathroom. Theo opened his bedroom door and went in. He slammed the door and leaned back on it. He exhaled heavily. After standing for a minute, he made his way to his bed. It helped clear his mind by looking around his room and seeing all his favorites things. His room was decorated with posters of his favorite musicians, including various Kpop groups, mainly Got7, Kard, Twice, CLC, Day6, and Girls' Generation, and posters of American artists like Ariana Grande and boy band In Real Life. He had lots of stuffed animals scattered around the room. There was a box of snacks beside his bed that held snacks that he saved up for weeks. He sat on his bed the main dating app on his phone. He opened the chat he had started with someone he has been talking to for the past few weeks. Still no new response. He plugged his phone onto its charger and placed it on the windowsill next to him. He pulled out and opened his laptop and pulled up his search engine. He began researching the college they would be performing at. Although it was in their town, he somehow knew nothing about it other than that it valued sports over academics, like most American schools. He mainly focused on the soccer team. He found articles talking about how the team has had a mixed season so far and was unsure if they'll qualify for nationals. Searching further, he found profiles for each member. He spent the next hour reading about what each person was like personality wise and about their skill level. All of them seemed impressive on paper, but somehow weren't on the field at times. They had never qualified for Nationals, which made them the only team at their university not to do so. Statistics show that this season was their best, which wasn't saying much since it was like a toss of a coin if they won a game or not. During his time reading, one player in particular caught his attention. Lucky Moon. Not just because of his name, but his other attributes, he stood out. He made the most goals this season, given that he was the striker. Off the field, he helped volunteer by tutoring other students and being an assistant coach for a little league team. He seemed like the model student, the perfect person. Theo smiled reading more about him. Delving deeper, Theo learned that the college actually did halftime shows for all the sporting events. One time they had an aerial acrobatics group perform at a volleyball match. Although it seemed weird for a college to go all out for a sporting event, it could pay off for their band in the end. Hopefully. Shutting down for the night, he put up his computer and covered himself with his favorite blanket, the one he had since he was a child. He laid his head down on his green monkey pillow as he thought about tomorrow. How it could be the best day of the group's career. All the possibilities that could come from it. The best began tomorrow. Chapter 2: Stop the Rain The mixture of rain and sweat covered Lucky's face as he ran across the field. He didn't bother wiping it off, it made him stronger, it built up endurance. The grass was harder to run across because he hasn't been cleaning his shoes properly and almost had moments where he almost slipped. There was only one set of lights on, somewhat keeping him warm. He kept on running, while also kicking the ball, for what seemed like forever. He had just reached the halfway point. Every so often he would tighten his fists, which kept him awake. It was two in the morning. He had hardly gotten sleep the night before, and the night before that, and basically every night for the past week. Soccer cleared his mind, made all the stress go away. Not only was this time in the early mornings useful for extra practice, it was his time to think and relax. His schedule was filled with classes and practice that he doesn't get a break. Whenever he was in his dorm, his roommate made too much noise with his gaming stuff and the occasional party. Lucky started getting up early to get some alone time on the field before he went back to his dorm to get a little more rest before his seven o'clock class. It wasn't the healthiest schedule experts might say, but it worked, it helped him stay stable, physically and emotionally. Something that he always needed work on. He shook his head thinking about his wounds, he needed to focus. Focus on his future, his grades, his happiness, but most importantly the ball he was kicking. He finally reached near the goal to shoot. With a hard kick, the ball leaped off the ground and swerved to the back of the net, nearly tearing it. He slightly nodded and gathered the ball. He made his way to the nearest bench, which held a towel and his water bottle. He sat down and wiped his face with the towel, which was about useless since the rain had gotten it damp. What it did was absorb what it could, but his face had streaks of liquid. In the end, he didn't know why he did anything with the towel other than it was muscle memory, the rain would just get his face wetter. He took several chugs from his bottle, the water moisturizing his dry throat. Picking up his bag, he placed the bottle in the side pouch and the ball in the back. While he was standing to leave, he saw a figure walking towards him. Upon closer examination, it was Coach Jupiter. She carried an umbrella and was dressed in her coaching attire. Coach Jupiter held out the umbrella to Lucky, but he remained in his spot next to the bench. She slightly nodded and got as close to him without making him feel uncomfortable. "What're you doing out here at this time of day?" Lucky shrugged his shoulders. When he opened his mouth his words came out bold, yet calm. "Extra practice." "It's not good to practice out in the rain." She came closer to him to try getting him under the umbrella, but he stepped back. "It helps build stamina." He said with even more boldness, but with a kind inflection. He didn't know if it was true, he thought it sounded like she would believe him. "Also helps with feet work." "Need someone to practice with?" "I was just leaving." "Too bad. I thought since you were here at this hour you were committed to the team." "I am!" Lucky shouted. Upon realizing that he raised his voice, he lowered his head in shame. "Sorry." "No need to apologize. Besides, how did you even get on the field?" Lucky kept his head down, feeling ashamed at what he did. "I picked the lock on the gate. But I always make sure to lock it back up when I leave." "Always?" She said while raising an eyebrow. Lucky realized what he said and step back a little while scratching his leg with his foot. "You've done this before? When? How long?" "Every day for the past two weeks." His voice was weaker than before. He sat down on the bench, resting his head in his hands. He began sobbing, his words becoming semi-inaudible. "I'm so sorry. Please don't kick me off the team." Coach Jupiter sat down next to him and held the umbrella over both of them. "Hey, calm down, it's alright. You're not off the team." "Really? Isn't what I did against some kind of rules?" Coach shrugged. "Yeah, most definitely, but I'm not going to report you or do anything." "Thank you." He said with a sigh of relief. However, he raised an eyebrow. "How did you know I was here?" "I got a notice from a bystander saying the lights were on. I came to see what was up." Lucky nodded a little. "I didn't mean any harm." "I know, but," She started saying, causing Lucky to look up and gulp. "If you wanted more time to practice, why didn't you contact me and set up an extra schedule? I would've worked with you. That's what I'm here for." Lucky stayed silent for a minute. Coach looked at him with her wide eyes, trying to figure him out based on his body language. He was hunched over, feet shaking, his right hand was brushing through his hair, and he still had a few tears coming out. "It's okay." She said. "Take your time." Lucky took a deep breath. Thoughts ran through his head and he didn't know what to say. He could tell the truth, which was more than likely a bad idea. Or he could say what she more than likely wanted to hear. Whatever he said, he made sure to make it seem better what was the truth. "I just wanted to practice some more. I know nationals means a lot to the team, and to you since it'll be your first one as a coach, and I felt like since the others look up to me, I needed to be better so we can win some more and qualify. I didn't ask for your help because I wanted to improve on my own. To show that I have the discipline and dedication." All Coach could do was nod and pat Lucky's shoulder, which seemed to calm him down. "Lucky, you are an amazing player, perhaps the best one on the team." "And I want to be better." He interjected. "I want us to go to nationals. I want to see that trophy in our case." Coach Jupiter let out a soothing sigh. "And we will, one day. Maybe this year, or maybe next year, but we will win it. But we won't if we're not in our best condition. Next time you want extra practice, talk to me and we can work out a healthier and somewhat better schedule. How does that sound?" Lucky looked her in her eyes. He couldn't form any kind of facial expression. But Coach made a face though. She seemed like she cared. He was happy to have someone in his life that seemed like they cared about him, someone who wanted to spend time with him, but he shook his head. "Thanks, but I'll see about it." He told her as he stood and put on his bag. "Let's see how we do at this next game." Coach stood up. She gave him another pat on the shoulder before she walked off, leaving him standing in the rain. Lucky looked up at the sky. A few drops of rain hit his eyes, causing him to blink rapidly. As he started walking to his dorm, he wiped some rain away, kicked some grass, and sighed heavily. He managed to get to the door and lock it back up, making it seem no one was ever there. As he walked away, the single set of lights that was on started flickering, then went dark. Lucky entered his dorm building and pushed the button for the elevator. He rested his hand on his hip as he waited. The elevator always took forever, even though there were only five floors. He didn't mind waiting, especially after practicing. It gave him a little time to cool off. The elevator dinged. The doors opened and there was only one person getting out. "Sup, Lucky!" The guy said as he went into a bro hug. Lucky accepted the hug. Although he wasn't too close to him, they did have some sort of friendship through Lucky's tutoring sessions. The guy left and Lucky took his spot in the elevator. He pushed the button for the fifth floor and watched the door close. The elevator always felt like it was going slower than a snail. He thought since they were paying a ridiculous amount for housing, the service would be good quality. The long time, the interior falling about, and the constant smell of sewage, and all that was just for the elevator. The rooms were worse. Upon coming onto his floor, he looked around at all the decorations. Each floor had a different theme, and his theme was the ocean. Cut-outs of different ocean animals covered the wall, along with streamers of different shades of blue. A pinboard hanging on the wall next to the elevator held mini questionnaires filled out by the residents of the floor. One of the questions was if they were a sea creature, which would they be. Lucky answered dolphin, because they are sleek, fast, and that people often make assumptions about them and have no reason to worry. He reached his assigned room at the end of the hall. He looked at his name tag, which was a dolphin, which he thought was a coincidence. He tapped the head of the dolphin before entering, a ritual he had since he started college. Touching his name tag before he entered his room. The first thing he saw was one of his roommates, Matt, asleep on the couch. Lucky grabbed a blanket form the rack in the corner and covered him up. Matt let out a weird groaning noise and turned but stayed asleep. When Lucky went to open his bedroom door, it was locked. "I'm busy!" His main roommate, Spada, yelled from the room. "Come back in a few minutes!" Before walking off, Lucky could hear the noise of a bed squeaking. Grunting, he went to the little kitchen area. Every time he really needed to get some rest, Spada pulled some shit like that. Every time he was gone for longer than thirty minutes Spada had her over. But he never had the strength to say anything. Opening the fridge, his face remained emotionless at the sight of a basically empty fridge. At that point, he was just over his roommates not keeping up with the one simple task of grocery shopping. The only thing edible he could see was some milk, a few slices of leftover pizza, and a half empty ketchup bottle. He grabbed a slice of pizza and poured him a glass of milk. As he chewed, he pulled out his phone and opened a dating app and went to the message section. There was only one person who had a conversation. Lucky smiled for the first time that day. He thought he might've met someone but didn't know if it would work out. He didn't know what to respond with. He hadn't replied for at least five hours. The right words had yet to come, even though the other person's message was really simple. It asked what he was like when he was younger. They had been getting to know each other better, but he has been picky about what he shared, especially life before college. He didn't want to change the subject since it seemed rude, but he also didn't want to make them mad by lying. He began typing a sentence but stopped when he heard his bedroom door open. Spada's girlfriend lurked out of the dorm, waving to him as she exited. Spada came out next, only in his boxer briefs. He went to the fridge and sipped some of the milk straight from the jug. "Can you please use a glass?" Lucky said as he took another bite of the pizza. Spada placed the milk back in the fridge. He maneuvered his way around the tiny kitchen space and leaned up against the counter next to Lucky. "You already have some." "Besides the point. Others might want some later and they more than likely don't want your germs. Besides, I know where your mouth has been." Before Spada could respond, he finally got a sniff of Lucky and nearly gagged. "Dude, you stink." Lucky sniffed his own armpit and shrugged. He has grown accustomed to his stench that he built up an immunity to it. It took him really trying to sniff to catch it. "Yeah, I do. It's called sweating. It's what comes when one is physically active." "I'm physically active." "Sex and parties don't count." "Hey, don't diss those. I be sweating pretty hard while doing so." Spada crossed his arms. "You need to shower. I don't want to be smelling that the rest of the night." Lucky turned to him and scolded him. "I was going to when I got here, but you were busy." Spada stood straight up in a defensive manner. "You know the rule we set up at the beginning of the year. If one of us has company over, we shall give them privacy." "But I didn't think it would include the middle of the night." "There weren't any time restrictions when we made the deal." "Whatever." Lucky sighed as he made his way to the bedroom. Before he took off to the shower, he looked back at Spada, who was shaking his head. "You know," Spada started saying. "I wouldn't mind waiting out here for whatever amount of time you needed. That's if you ever bring a girl over." With that, Lucky slammed the door. There were times he despised Spada. Times where just his presence caused annoyance. He had the typically rich daddy's boy vibe, but lacked the rich daddy. Whined whenever he didn't get his way, bitch until he does, just plain punchable. On the other hand, there were times Spada was kind of tolerable. The times where they got drunk together were nice and good bonding moments, but those were rare sense Lucky didn't want to risk showing up to class or practice with a hangover. Spada once invited him to a threeway with his girlfriend on the terms that they wouldn't do anything with each other, but he declined out of respect. One time they to the arcade and made a mountain with all the tickets they had earned, then destroying it by jumping into it and rolling around. Putting all those thoughts behind him, Lucky went straight to the bathroom and locked the door. He stood in front of the mirror and stood straight into his eyes. He began that state of being where everything around him became too real and where he started contemplating life. What life was, what he was doing there, and what will happen if he dies. Or in his case what would've happened if he had died. Or what things would be like if he was never born. Shaking his head rapidly, he got out of those thoughts. He turned on the shower and waited for it to get hot. In the meantime, he took off his clothes and placed them neatly in the corner. Remaining in only his black briefs, he went back to staring at himself in the mirror. This time he stared at his body. At the wounds he had. The cuts across his six-pack. The bruises on his sides. The everlasting burn wound on the upper part of his arm. As he ran his fingers over it all, he tried staying strong. He kept reassuring himself that it'll all be over soon. He wanted to continue looking, but the mirror fogging up stopped him. He took off his underwear and stepped into the shower. The hot water hit him sharply, giving him the best feeling he has had for the day. He simply stood in the middle of the shower and let the water go all over him. It took him a good minute or two to begin. He poured some of his Axe body wash on his hands and started rubbing his body. He took it easy around his wounds since they were sensitive. He used the green apple shampoo his sister got him, only because he was out of his regular kind. He let his hand slip down his body until he reached his v-line. He tapped his fingers across it, enjoying the tingling sensation that slowed throughout his body. He let out a soft moan as he reached lower. He grasped his crotch and let out a louder moan. His head flung back and his eyes closed. Just the feeling could've made him finish since it had been forever since he had felt some sort of pleasure. He started moving his hand, the shampoo helped made a smooth rhythm. He used his other hand to rub his chest. His hands became synchronized in motion resulting in a higher amount of pleasure. All the feelings going through his body sped up his hands and he couldn't stop. It felt like electricity going through his veins, lighting was about to be next. Just as he was about to release, there was a loud bang on the door. It startled him so much that his hand sharply gripped over himself and he released over the front of the shower. His knees felt like jelly and he had to hold onto the rail so he wouldn't fall to the ground. "Hurry up, bro!" Spada said. Lucky took a moment to catch his breath. "I can't fall asleep with the shower running." Lucky groaned as he cleaned up, again, and turned the shower off. He stepped out, dried off, and wrapped the towel around his waist. He wiped off some of the steam on the mirror and brushed his hair. In the corner, he saw some of his residue on the corner of the tub. He took the edge of the towel and wiped it up so that Spada wouldn't complain. Finally finished, he grabbed his dirty clothes and walked into the bedroom and over to his dresser. He took off his towel and tossed it and the clothes into the basket. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a pair of light blue briefs. After he put them on, Spada turned on his bed and faced the ceiling. "Sorry about earlier." Lucky went to his bed and got under the covers. He took note of Spada's weird change in attitude, which wasn't uncommon. He adjusted himself and his pillows before responding. "About what?" "About saying if you ever bring a girl over." Spada let out a sigh. "I didn't mean to come off snarky." "It's fine." No it wasn't, but it wasn't the time. "Don't worry about it." "My thing is," He started, resulting in a soft groan from Lucky. "You're so attractive, no homo, you can get any girl you want. You're the star soccer player, a people helper, and you're Asian, girls love ethnic guys now." "Don't say that!" Lucky slightly yelled. He hated it when people brought up his race, not because he was ashamed, but because he thought it was never needed to be brought up. "I thought you were tired? Why don't you get some sleep, maybe it'll help your brain." "Hey, don't get upset at me for stating facts." "Well I don't want to hear your so-called facts." "Well, what do you want to hear?" "You sleeping." Spada chuckled. "Man, I can help you." "I don't need your help." Lucky turned to face the wall. "What's your type? Blonde, brunette, redhead? Maybe another ethnic person." Lucky became furious. He grabbed a bottle of water from under his bed and threw it at Spada. "Stop saying that! As I said before, I don't want or need your help. Stay out of my personal life and leave me the fuck alone!" Without saying anything, Spada made a face of confusion with a mix of anger. He tried throwing the bottle back, but it failed to reach halfway across the room. He huffed and turned to face the wall. Lucky wept silent tears. He pulled out his phone and went back to the message conversation. He scrolled through the entire thread, wanting to relive one of the happy parts his life had. From where they talked about school, hobbies, and dreams for the future. Although he had a gist of what he wanted for his dream, all he could think about was making a new dream reality. After a long time of thinking, he finally decided what to say. Let's talk, in person, after my soccer game. I know a place we could go and be alone. With a simple click of a button, his life changed. Whether it was for good or bad, that was debatable. What wasn't was his feelings. Feelings for soccer, feelings for freedom, and feelings for the one person that could truly care about him. A ding. Lucky looked back at his phone and formed a small smile at the message notification. He smiled more when he read it. I'll be there.

[fadinglight123]

This boy does weird things to my heart

[bellatrixobsessed1]

A Flame For A Cabbage (Part 13)

Azula pushes her stall down the vacant streets. She is the only one outside, she is the only one with the sense not to panic buy toilet paper. What she does not know is that the toilet paper has served its purpose. The streets are vacant because the void has taken its annual sacrifices and those who had not been possessed and driven to leaping into its swirling depths are not yet awake because it is 3:15 in the morning. This is when Azula starts her day. It is not when normal people start their day. No less, Azula finds that she is more productive when she rises at 3:15. Her mother had once said that it is another sign that she is ‘literally Satan but with a top knot and cute clothes.’  

She finds herself what she believes is an optimal place to set up her stall. It is a shady spot nestled between a cafe and an inn with a lovely maple tree. She picks out a cabbage and smiles. Today will be different, she will have her sales.

She spies her first customer and holds out a cabbage. “Has your toilet paper saved you?” She begins.

The man shakes his head.

“I didn’t think so.” She replies. “See, I tried to tell you, but you did not listen. Luckily for you, I am a generous person. I am still going to allow you to buy a medicinal cabbage.”

The man seems to recoil but he reaches for his pocket. She thinks that he is going to draw out a few copper pieces. Instead he draws a single square of toilet paper and wipes his nose. “No thanks.”

“Good morning.” Azula greets a woman. She thinks that it is the soldier who had abolished her cabbage stand the morning before so abruptly drops her sales pitch. She is not usually one to run, but she is also not one to carelessly put herself into a losing situation. She hustles to pack away her stall. She thinks that she will have better success elsewhere anyhow.

“Halt!” The soldier shouts. “Merchant! Get back here!” The woman is waving something at her. She picks up her pace.

.oOo.

“Father, I have important news.” Sie begins.

“Sie, I am trying to organize my rock garden, you know that I always organize my rock garden at exactly 5:30 in the morning.” He picks up a plastic flamingo, this one is electric blue in color. He strokes it lovingly, the shade reminds him of something important to him. Something that he has lost long ago. Tenderly, he sits it by the rest of the blue flamingos. He moves onto the next one, a standard pink lawn flamingo. This one he puts at the center, for it is the flamingo of the day. This is how he organizes his rock garden. There are no rocks in his rock garden. There is no war in Ba Sing Se. There is no God in the Fire Nation.

There are only flamingos in Ozai’s rock garden. There is only the false illusion of safety in Ba Sing Se. There is only Iroh’s unwavering wrath in the Fire Nation.

As Ozai picks up a flamboyant green flamingo with sunglasses, the Pterodactyl of the West screeches in his cell.

Sie does not get to inform his father of the news.

.oOo.

With her stall once again erect in a new, slightly less comfortable location, Azula decides that she is going to have to take a more direct approach. She looks at the charred body next to her and recalls that this is not normal for the Fire Nation. She also notes that it is, in fact, bad for business to have a body laying around so she quickly pushes her cabbage stall over it.

That ought to fix it. If you push it under the bed or shove it in to the closet then you cannot see it. And if you cannot see it then the mess is gone. No one can see the corpse. So the corpse is not there. It can fade from existence as though it had never been a part of it all. Such is the nature of things. Object permanence is meaningless. It is like time which is also meaningless. Time is not only meaningless, but also a social construct which is why Azula does not have a problem being awake at 3:15 in the morning, because it is actually 5:30 (which is still questionable early). But not for Azula, because Azula believes that it is 3:15 and therefor it is 3:15. Now if you were to ask Ozai, he would say that it is 5:30. And if you asked Zuko, he might say that it is 1:00 in the morning and ask you why you are waking him so early. If you asked Iroh what time it is, he would tell you that he is in a jail cell so time is twice as meaningless as it was before and so he does not know what time it is. So you are best not asking the time at all because, really, how are you to know who is correct? Just who has decided what time to go with anyways?

While the unimportance of time as it pertains to a person was being discussed, several customers have came and went. Each of them hilariously rejecting the socially inept cabbage merchant’s offers.

Azula grows increasingly frustrated. “You are going to buy a cabbage.” She informs the first person she sees. “It is not debatable. You are going to…” the man walks away from her as though she is nothing and no one at all. She is left to ball her fist and wave it at him in a silent display of frustration.

Jet’s words echo in her mind. And maybe he is right, maybe her business will crumble...   It could be that the height of her luck had been on the wall all of those days ago. Azula wanders back to her stall, picks out her favorite cabbage of the day, and hugs it to her chest.

She isn’t feeling so well. It is not the illness that plagues the Fire Nation streets. Nor is it the virus that is currently making a mess of a different dimension entirely. It isn’t the black plague either. It could be seasonal allergies--yes, she thinks that it is seasonal allergies. But it is also something else. Something… Emotional.

She is feeling sad. The merchant isn’t sure that she has ever felt sad before. Has she ever felt anything save for pride and determination, and more recently, angry and frustration?

Azula pulls her keens up to her chest and hugs the cabbage closer. A single tear escapes and slips down her cheek. The wind stirs up her hair and rustles the leaves of her cabbages. She can practically hear them whispering, “it’s going to be okay, Azula.”

She is skeptical. But there might be hope yet. She takes a deep breath, she has never done this before. Never.

She puts a, ‘out for lunch, back in 15’ sign on her cabbage stall and heads for the Fire Nation prison.

.oOo.

“Father, I still have news.” Sie tries again. This time Mai and TyLee are standing behind him because they need some screen time. But they aren’t going to do anything particularly important.  

“Not now.” Ozai says. “I have important things to do.” Such important business consists of inspecting his toothbrush, bristle by bristle. This is something he routinely does after he organizes his rock garden.

“But father, this is important.” Sie speaks. He can wait, for Ozai is on the last three bristles. But upon that task’s completion he sits upon his throne and seems to stare directly into the flames around it. Sie knows not to interrupt Ozai when he is peering into the flames, seeking out divine wisdom. Mostly the fire simply crackles and shrieks incoherently like a thousand voices from the ninth ring of hell as fires tend to do. But occasionally the fire will crackle and tell Ozai that his beard is pretty. This makes Ozai blush but in a very manly way.

Mai, growing impatient ages up a year. And then one more after that.

Sokka remains the same age though. As do June, Toph, Aang, Katara, Zhao, Haru, Azula, Jet, Ozai, Zuko, and Lo. But Li. Li is not exactly 83 while her sister is only 82. Teo, in his wheelchair also ages a year. And Earth Kingdom Azula is suddenly 8 years old again and her adoptive mother weeps in despair. We cannot be sure of TyLee’s age. Even TyLee doesn’t know TyLee’s age.

“Father?” Sie coughs.

The man only narrows his eyes and concentrates harder on the fire as a good Fire Lord does. Sie shakes his head sadly. Things have been weird between he and his father these days. Ever since he got home. He thinks that his father resents him for some reason but that does not make sense for he has been the perfect daughter. “Father the Earth Kingdom is planning an invasion.”

“Hmmm…” Ozai says taking a sip of his coffee. “Nope.”

“Wh-what do you mean, nope?”

Ozai turns away from the fire but only for a moment. “Nope, there will be no invasion.”

“But there is going to be an eclipse.”

Ozai shakes his head.

“Yes.” Sie inists. “The Earth King…”

Ozai plugs his ears and says, “la la la la, I can’t hear you.”

“Father…”

“There won’t be an invasion because I forbid it.”

“Father,” TyLee starts.

“He’s my father, not yours.”

“Ooohhh, I thought that his name was father.”

Sie shakes his head.

“Sie’s father, TyLee begins again, “we were told that…”

The Fire Lord raises a silencing hand. “If you speak without permission even once more, I will teach you the same lesson that I taught my son.”

Sie shudders violently, not a day goes by where Zuko doesn’t talk about the horrors of calculus derivatives and trigonometry. His face still bears the scar given to him with The Math itself punished him for his wrong answer. Not that Ozai hadn’t summoned The Math in the first place.

“Please no.” TyLee squeaks.

“But father, we should be making preparations…”

“Preparations for what?”

“The invasion.”

“What invasion!” Ozai roars, and with his rage the fire flares. “There is no invasion. I already said ‘la la la’.”

Sie, fearing punishment and The Math, backs down. He clenches his teeth and hopes that he is wrong about the eclipse. “Come on, TyLee. Mai.” He beckons for them to follow. Boredom satisfied, Mai ages down a year again. The others do not.

“Ozai!” Greets a chipper and cheerful high-pitched voice. “Did you trim your beard!? It looks hella fine!”

Ozai smiles. It is the only time that is black and vile soul sees even a faint pin-prick of light and goodness.

[siodymph]

“The Before and After”

Hey there @pirably ! I’m so sorry this is getting to you so late! I can’t thank you enough for participating in the gift exchange, and I hope you enjoy my take on your prompt!

Feel free to read your story under the cut or over on my ao3!

“I can’t believe you!”

“What?”

Sighing, Stanford took a deep breath. His neck was starting to feel pinched from looking up at so long. “I said I CAN’T BEL-”

“I heard what you said! What’s not to believe?”

“Just… Everything about this! There’s no way this is safe!”

There was a long pause as Stanford waited until he finally heard Fiddleford respond. Voice echoing out from somewhere near the top of his gigantic creation.

“… Probably not!”

“Then why do you insist on working like this? Why put yourself in life-threatening danger!”

“Cause!” Fiddleford called back, huffing. “I work best directly with my hands. And there’s no way I could tip this darned thing over without risking it all breaking! All for some shiftin’ wires!”

“You could build something to help gently set it down then stand it again!” Stanford tried to add.

“Ugh! But that’d take even more time! Not to mention I’d have to build that first!” Fiddleford yelled. “Now hush up! I’m trying to work here Stanford!”

If someone were to see Stanford at that moment, they probably would have said he was pouting. But Ford would take to his grave if he had to. “I just want you to be safe…”

“I’m harnessed to the swing, which I rigged up myself! Checked the pulleys and everything this morning! I’m the safest I’ve ever been!” Fiddleford called out one more time. “And you’re one to talk! Where was all this fussing over safety when you were in Dr. Jenret’s class and you almost poured acid on yourself?”

Stanford could only smile and shake his head in response. As always Fiddleford was able to win him over when he least suspected it. As inevitable as it was, it still caught Stanford off-guard. Growing up there had been no one like that in his life. If he ever got into arguments or debates with kids they’d always either eventually concede or just completely give up. Or they’d just hit him out of annoyance. If it was his brother he’d do a combination of the last two.

At least Stanford used that excuse as to why after knowing the man for years now, he still managed to surprise him when they got into debates.

To this day Fiddleford was probably the only person he knew who could get him to shut up and see things from a new perspective.

So now knowing there was nothing he could say Stanford decided to just sit back and watch the show Fiddleford was putting on. The man may be stubborn as a mule, but he was equally as cunning and brilliant, and he certainly made a performance out of his larger-than-life projects.

There was no denying Fiddleford’s brilliance. He had the most engineering and mechanical skill out of anyone Stanford knew. Even better than himself, which was something he seldom admitted to anyone. But it was the truth. Fiddleford Hadron McGucket was by far the best of the best in the world of robotics. And anyone who said otherwise was wrong.

Just being able to watch Fiddleford work was a treat itself. As his creation came together it quickly collected height. So much so that he soon had to resort to rigged swings and climbing equipment to finish the job. As he worked up off the ground like that Stanford couldn’t help but think of those old photos from the 1940’s of construction workers building the first skyscrapers. So high off the ground, only a pair of overalls and a utility belt for protection, and yet seeming so at ease. There was almost a beauty in how effortless Fiddleford made it seem. A grace he had while swinging from rig to rig, climbing up the structure with his hands and feet.

But when the light hit his face just right and Stanford could see Fiddleford’s hair shine golden, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat from his hard work, Stanford knew in his heart his feelings for the other man hadn’t changed at all.

He found he’d only grown to love Fiddleford Hadron McGucket even more...

Two hours later, Fiddleford came swinging down. Overalls covered in a layer of grim, hair frizzled and frumpy, face red and sweaty, and a satisfying smile that just looked ethereal on Fiddleford’s face.

“How’d it go?” Stanford asked as he ran back over from his own work to meet him. Handing the other man a towel.

“Pretty good I think!” Fiddleford sighed gratefully as he started to wipe off his face. “Got that wiring all straightened out! Now all that’s left is testing her out!”

“That’s wonderful! We should test it now!”

“You know Stanford it’s a good thing I like ya so much.” Fiddleford said with a tired smirk. “Been up there all day, and as soon as I get down you want me to keep on working!”

“You know you want to see your new invention just as much as I do!” Stanford replied. “Don’t even kid yourself Fidds.”

Chuckling to himself, Fiddleford went over to his work bench and grabbed the remote control he’d built for this his invention. He let his finger hover over the main controls before looking towards Stanford.

“Hang onto your butts…”

All at once, the remote buzzed and the colossal machine burst to life. Inbetween metal panels, there was a bright green glow. Panels began to bend and shift. Massive wings unfurled from either side of the robot. For a moment the creature turned its head to look at its master. Green eyes glowing with a light that feuled it from within. Then after Fiddleford pressed another button the remote buzzed again and the creature tilted its head back at gave out a massive prehistoric screech that made Stanford’s entire chest rattle.

“Not too bad for someone who said they were moving onto computer-work only, huh?”

Stanford looked up at the massive mechanic pterodactyl in awe. “Fiddleford… Fiddlford that was nowhere close to ‘not bad’. That was… That was amazing!”

“Aw shucks,” Fiddleford mumbled.

“No, I mean it!” Stanford continued. “This is a piece of history in the making here. This won’t just change the world of animatronics, but the entire world of robots and engineering itself!”

“You really think so?” Fiddleford asked.

“I know so!” Stanford tried to contain some of his excitement, sometimes he could get rather loud when he got carried away. “And Fiddleford? I couldn’t imagine this being made by anyone else but yourself. You really did a… a fantastic job here. There’s no way you won’t take first place in Dawngrove next week!”

“Aw, I don’t care about none of that.” Fiddleford sighed as he turned off his robo-dino. “I’m only doing this for lil’Tate. He’s the one who asked me to do all this after all.”

“And I’m certain Tate will adore this too.”

“I hope so...” Fiddleford said with another sigh. Looking back up at his incredible invention. “Ever since me and the missus split I feel like I haven’t seen him as often. When we are together I gotta make it mean something. For the both of us.”

Gently, Stanford took Fiddlford’s face in his hands, pulling him away so they were looking eye to eye.

“Believe me Fiddleford, next week Dawngrove’s Robotic Royal will be a day no one could ever forget!”

Leaning in closer, Stanford kissed him. And closing his eyes, Fiddleford could feel himself relaxing.

Slipping away. If only for a few moments...

 ~~~

 Sometimes it truly amazed Fiddleford how everything was coming back to him.

At least physically if not completely mentally. He was still working on that.

He counted it as a small success though when Stanford showed him a massive mechanical pterodactyl and he got the inkling of a sensation that he’d seen it before.

Raising one hand up, he touched one of its massive wings. It felt rougher than he’d expected it to. No doubt the metal had eroded some after years of hiding it away in such an abandoned place.

“I know I’ve seen this fella before…” Fiddleford pondered out loud, still lightly rubbing over the metal as if that would help him reveal the answer. He knew he’d made robotic pterodactyls before but this one didn’t seem as familiar. It definitely wasn’t the one he made for revenge after his retirement-party-fiasco. “Did we make this together?”

“Not really, I just watched.” Stanford answered. “You made this one on your own. It was for this competition out in Dawngrove California.”

“Dawngrove…” Fiddleford said slowly.

“Yes, does that town sound familiar at all?”

Fiddleford hummed a little before shaking his head. “It ain’t there right now, but it’ll come back. I can feel it rattle’n around in there.”

Stanford seemed a little disappointed, but decided to move on. “Well you and I brought that in for a robotics competition. A battle royal actually. You ended up getting first place. Your ex-wife and your son even came and we all cheered you on.”

The mention of his son brought a smile to his face. The details over everything were hazy but he always knew who Tate was. “He would have been around eight or nine right?”

“Yes, he was nine!” Stanford said.

Fiddleford chuckled at the thought. “He was such a little squirt back then. Always hiding under that big mop of hair…”

Stanford grumbled as he looked around. He wished he had more photos from that day. In his experience with Stanley photos help jogged Stan’s memory the best. Unfortunately he didn’t have any photos from that day. He was however able to find a few newspaper clippings he’d held onto from that day. Carefully picking it up the fragile paper so it didn’t disintegrate, Stanford brought it over for Fiddleford to see.

“Look here,” Stanford pointed to the main picture under the headline ‘Super Scientist and Father Wins Grand Prize with his Dynamic Dino!’ where there was a black and white photo of the Pterodactyl back in its golden years. “If you look towards the bottom near the pterodactyl’s feet you can see a few figures. That’s me on the right, you on the left, and you’re holding Tate in the middle of us.”

The article itself was so damaged it was illegible. But Fiddleford could just make out their figures Stanford was pointing to in the picture. The picture was so old the image had begun to fade some too, mostly on the left side. His whole body was faded out. But with enough focus he could just make out Stanford and Tate’s faces. Both were beaming at the camera. Grinning with pride. Fiddleford realized they’d been proud of him.

“You two sure seemed happy…” Fiddleford said with a sigh.

“And we still are.” Stanford continued. “You have no idea how happy I am to be here with you. To have a second chance at making things right with you. With everyone.”

Fiddleford nodded but didn’t look up from the picture. As if trying to memorize their faces in case this memory never came back to him. When he didn’t focus as hard he could almost recall some things. Mostly phantom feelings. Like holding a giggling Tate close to his chest. Or swinging up on a rig, shouting to Stanford down below. Walking hand in hand with both of them…

“I’m happy I get a second chance too.” Fiddleford replied softly.

Eventually they’d seen everything they could and together, hand in hand, they walked back out of that old warehouse back into the world. They’d been in there reminiscing so long they’d missed sunset. It was already night and the moon hung low in the sky, darting out from behind trees as they walked.

Stanford’s six-fingered hand felt so warm in Fiddleford’s own. How he’d spent all those years alone, Fiddleford didn’t know, but now that Stanford was back in his life he knew he couldn’t bear to go back to the way things had once been. The world had changed so much, and they’d both changed so much with it. But Fiddleford could feel it in his heart that what they had between themselves was still as special as it was back then.

And when the light hit his face just right Fiddleford could see Stanford’s hair shine silver, and his eyes practically sparkling under the moon, Fiddleford knew in his heart his feelings for the other man hadn’t changed at all.

He found he’d only grown to love Stanford Filbrick Pines even more.

[jupiterjames]

I was actually thinking of asking you to write this drabble before you asked for prompts. Castiel works in the booth for a music production company that is letting 5 people record a single because of a radio station giveaway. Everyone is crap. Except the quiet, shy man with the green eyes, beat up guitar, and voice to die for.

(Dude, I could write CHAPTERS about this, but drabble it is!)

Castiel Novak considers himself to be patient. Mild mannered. Even as a calm sea.

Oh, how he wishes that were true.

Currently he’s pushed his glasses up on his forehead to rub at the bridge of his nose where an astonishing power headache behind his eyes. 

He wants to burn the local alt-rock station to the ground. No, he wants to burn all radio stations to the ground. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to giveaway recording studio time? Especially when the only prerequisite had been, “dial the phone fastest.” No auditions, no sifting through, just be one of the lucky callers.

The contest isn’t paying dividends. But Castiel is paid to do this for one hour per person, so he drops his headphones around his neck while winner #1 pterodactyl screeches her way through a Top 50 synth-hit. He doesn’t even have to listen to know what to say and when. “That’s great, Becky,” he says blankly. “Let’s run through it one more time.”

The only saving grace about it being today and not tomorrow is that today he doesn’t have to actually listen. They screech, scream, growl, and voice-crack their way through their songs, and Castiel records it all. Tomorrow is going to suck because he will have to listen. Lay the tracks to best effect and somehow pull together a passable mastertape to send to them.

He’s not sure why he bothers with professional pride. Becky thinks she’s hot shit and hasn’t hit a note head on since she opened her mouth forty-five minutes ago. She wouldn’t notice the difference. But Castiel will autotune her to death if only to save himself some minor ear bleeding later.

Garth at least can carry a tune, but leaves Castiel with the vague worry that the lanky man thinks he actually is Johnny Cash.

Benny can’t sing his way out of… well, anything, but he doesn’t pretend to. He follows the adage, “when in doubt, sing loud.”

Jo is okay, but so nervous that she ends up forgetting all the lyrics.

Castiel is just sitting back in his chair hoping to embrace the sweet silence of death, when Dean ambles into the recording studio carrying a truly tragic looking guitar. He sits on the stool and waits for Castiel to stop staring.

It takes a minute, but then, Castiel remembers the rest of his day and thinks, the pretty ones are usually the worst. He sighs. Clicks on the microphone. “What will you be singing today?”

In a melodious baritone, Dean leans towards the microphone and simply says, “Lynyrd Skynyrd.”

Castiel shrugs. He can’t possibly give a shit anymore. “Whenever you’re ready.”

His guitar work is a bit sloppy off the cuff, but it only takes two seconds for Castiel to recognize Simple Man. He only has a moment to mourn the murder of a classic, because when Dean starts singing, Castiel shoots up ramrod straight in his seat.

Clearly, Dean doesn’t know anything about recording. He’s slumps over his guitar and doesn’t consider the position of the microphone because his voice fades in and out a little bit when he sways. 

He’s gorgeous and he’s good. Castiel would record a dozen - a hundred people to hear something like Dean’s understated, heartfelt, blessedly on tune voice.

He can’t even believe it when Dean finishes singing. It feels like he’d just started a second a go. But he places his hands over the strings and the song is over.

Castiel opens his mouth. Closes it. He could cry. He tosses off his headphones and stalks to the recording room. When the door flies open, Dean looks surprised. He blinks at Castiel. Gapes. His ears turn an interesting shade of red.

Castiel wants to kiss him to assuage both his attraction and his gratitude. But instead he says, “you’re the best singer who’s been here all day. You’re the best I’ve heard in months. But you suck at recording.” He jabs his finger out almost angrily. “Sit up straight and sing directly into the mic. I’m going to get another one for your guitar. If you keep moving around and depriving me of your voice, I’ll lose my mind.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean says faintly, shell-shocked.

Castiel stalks back to the door and whips around again. “Do you know other songs?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, a small smile blooming on his full lips. “Tons.”

Castiel waves a hand. “I want to hear them all.”

Those green eyes warm further. “Got no other plans tonight.” He’s almost cheeky.

Castiel smirks. “Yes, you do. You’re going to sing me to sleep.” He closes the door behind him leaving Dean laughing beautifully behind him.

[boogiewrites]

A Girl Walks Into A Bar

Chapter 1

Characters: Declan Harp x Bella (OFC)

Word Count: 6400+

Summary: Frontier Modern AU. Declan is a bar owner and local urban legend with a reputation he’d like to leave in the past. Bella is a rough around the edges, low key sweetheart that isn’t from his part of town. After meeting with the help of some bad luck and perhaps a touch of fate, how far will their undeniable chemistry take them until their histories catch up with them?

Warnings/Tags: Language

A/N: Currently watching Frontier, love it, felt a burst of creative ideas and I just went with it. First time writing for this character. As always, shout out to @jaegeeeeer who told me to watch the show and enables my bad behavior. <3 

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

My Masterlist. 

You'd had a bad day. Murphy's Law was created for the sole purpose of explaining the day you'd had. Your car is fucked, sitting in a shop currently as you just have to wait for a phone call about the state it's in and what limb you'll have to sell to afford the work. The bus was late, the coffee machine at work wasn't working and you'd dealt with assholes pretty much everywhere you'd went.

The bratty 16-year-old and her father that were in the studio that day had certainly earned the not affectionate in the least title. The Rolex wearing father, not attentive, blue tooth headset and nose stuck to a phone screen for the entirety of any communication you had with. He'd first insulted you, telling you to go fetch them coffee, tossing you a twenty while his clearly in need a smack and a therapist daughter barked a nonsensical order to you. You didn't go to Starbucks, you didn't know what the fuck any of this meant. You eat it anyway, as your boss is sighing and trying to keep the situation under control, seeing your known temper rising to the surface. You turn with an annoyed nod to leave, the father then smacking you on the ass on the way out. If your boss hadn't grabbed your arm, he would've been dealing with a broken pair of glasses and hopefully a cracked eye socket to accompany it.

You return from your errand, where of course, the barista was a dick. Still feeling insulted, seething as you see every switch and knob has been messed with in your absence. You hear the pterodactyl screech of this spoiled child from the booth, ignoring her while you fix what she's fucked up. Her father rushing you and claiming he was paying for this time and you were milking it.

After fixing others mistakes, you have to deal with the voice of the girl. You play it back over and over for her, she screams it sounds wrong, that you've fucked it up and it's your fault and you don't expect anything less from her at this point.

"Well it sounds wrong because you can't sing." you finally state matter of factly. You see your bosses hand go to her forehead, mouthing the word fuck.

The pterodactyl screeching does not falter, you are unphased despite the father now being tugged by his sleeve to you in the booth by his tantrum-throwing daughter, your boss walking in behind them.

"This is fucking insulting and I'm not doing it. This is a fucking studio for artists, not the next god damned Rebecca Black and her absentee fucking father! This is a place where we make MUSIC, we make ART here! Don't fucking insult my work here with this bullshit! I'm not here to cater to this fuckin' blue tool wearin' mother fucker and his piss baby of a kid!" you shout and you do not care. You started as an intern here, you worked your way up and you knew your value. No one else knew the technical side of things AND knew how to play instruments. Your boss knows this and knows she needs you as you both ignore the shouting from the two fuck heads who are still crying about things being unfair and unprofessional.

"I know. We need the money, I'm sorry. Why don't yo-"

"NEED THE MONEY?! BULLSHIT!" you shout, "If you needed the money so bad maybe don't go indulge your post-divorce crisis with plastic surgery and a new car CeeCee!" you grab your coat and angrily put it on.

"Just take the rest of the day off, Bella. This is clearly out of hand and no one can work like this." she says, not even mad at your words, you were never known to hold back your thoughts and knowing each other for years now your comments didn't phase her. You were a very passionate woman and it was all part of your process she'd quickly learned. Can't be as knowledgeable about music and art as you are without having a burning passion inside you for it. Unfortunately for you, this fire extended outside of your work and hobbies sometimes and made you a bit of a hot head. But at this point in your fuming, you were growing tired, so you cut it short.

"You're fucking right!" you shout as you slam the door behind you. "Take the rest of the day off," you mumble and mock her in an immature way but man, you were pissed. It was already after 5pm what rest of the fucking day was left! You're reminded of your car being gone as you stand in your reserved spot, staring at the freshly fallen snow that lay where it should. "Fuck." you groan, pulling on your gloves and tugging your hat over your wavy dark auburn hair. You had to walk to the bus stop and all you wanted was to go home and get drunk, so you in your winter wear, jeans and big black boots over them, a fleece lined leather jacket over your hoodie, all tied up cozy with a bow and a beanie. At least you'd checked the weather before you left the house so you were prepared for the walk.

You hear the sound of music as you walk down a street you'd driven past mindlessly, countless times. You're on the outskirts of the small community, outlying the city where you lived in a duplex, and much to your delight, you had no upstairs neighbors currently. No one to bitch about your music being played too loud or your guitar playing well into the night. As you round the corner, just a few blocks away from the, you're assuming, still shouting assholes, you let out a sigh as you recognize a guitar riff. It immediately sends the impulses you need to your muscles, your shoulders lowering finally from their tension. You've reached the source of the sound, you look up to the sign above the dark stone and wood front of the...bar...it would seem. You'd been past this place so many times and never stopped to look.  "The Trading Post." you say to yourself, biting your blushed from the cold lips. You see the welcome neon advertising beer and you sigh. You stand there for a few moments, considering just stopping in here, they were playing Zeppelin after all...how bad could it be?

You must've been wearing your foul mood all over your face because one of the men standing in a circle of other men, all wearing biker vests turns to watch you go in.

"You ain't lookin' for trouble are ya?" he asks, eyebrow raised.

You show no sign of intimidation. "I'm going in to drink to make myself forget about the fuckin' trouble." you say, moving your gloved hand to the door.

"I ain't never seen you here before."

"That'd be because I've never been here before."

"Yeah..." he looks you up and down in judgment and not in a sexual way, which you're relieved by. "But I've been told to keep out the riff-raff."

"Well no offense but one might think you guys are that riff-raff." you say with a stare and an attitude. One of the other men laughs.

"What's your name?" his eyes narrow.

"What's yours?" you ask with the same swing of your chin.

"They call me Southie." he answers.

"They call me Bella." you nod back, extending your hand and he looks at it in a surprised way but takes it, a gentle shake.

"Well don't go in there to fuck with no one, especially not Declan now, you hear? He doesn't take too kindly to folks running their mouths much."

"Who the fuck is Declan?" you ask. All the men laugh.

"You must not be from around here." he grins.

"I work a few blocks back, but I don't live in this neighborhood, no." you explain.

"Ah. Well..." he huffs out a laugh. "If you've not heard of him, you'll still recognize him when you see him." he nods and the other guys chuckle again.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" you ask with a shake of your head.

"Just let the girl go get a fuckin' drink, man, she's clearly in a bad mood, just let the little firecracker go." he laughs. You narrow your eyes at him, not sure if that was a compliment or not.

"Alright." he shrugs. "Go on, get in there baditude." he says with a nod of his head towards the door.

You pull it open, your eyes don't have to adjust much because the lighting is dim, just as a bar should be in your opinion. There are multi-colored lights in strings across the corners of the ceiling, neon signs placed with no rhyme or reason on wood paneled and brick walls. You look down the line of booths along the wall, all an old green color that only existed in the 70's you're pretty sure, worn and patched up with duct tape below the table tops with carved words of love and hate on top. To your right, there is a long wooden bar, a beautiful old monster of a thing. Looked like it'd been there longer than the building and the building looked very old itself. There's a faint smell of mildew, smoke and cheap cologne in the air. Had you just by chance walked into the dive bar you'd always wanted to call your local? When you catch sight of the man behind the counter, you know you have.

His back is turned to you, even from the doorway you can tell he's tall. As you walk forward, pulling your gloves off and stuffing them into your pockets he just gets bigger and broader the closer you get. A clearly well loved, thin t-shirt is all he's wearing in the dead of winter. You suppose maybe the past the shoulders mess of waves and curls that fade from almost black to a lighter brown towards the ends is keeping him warm. Or perhaps the lights that dotted the line of the bar were, some covered with colored gels, some broken, but you found it very charming nonetheless.

You're reaching for your zipper as he turns, guessing he's heard the door shut behind you. He turns as if he's expecting someone else, his head tilting just slightly as you continue walking. An intimidating face to match his stature greets you. His thick beard, just left of unkempt sits course, a full lip buried in the midst of it peaks out at you. His complimentary to his olive skin and dark coloration of the brown with yellow coloring eyes look over you under a heavy brow and hooded lids.  His almost Disney villain like naturally arched brows raise at your appearance in the bar. The act of unzipping your jacket while his eyes are on you makes your face flush. Or perhaps it was the heat in here. Hell, it could be both.

"What can I get ya?" he says in a deep but friendly voice.

"Uhhh..." you mumble for a moment, eyes looking over the bar back full of a plethora of bottles, some you've never heard of and for your Irish half, this was surprising as you'd known your fair share of alcohol in your life. "You have any real ale?" you ask with a wrinkle of your nose as he's looking to throw a towel somewhere out of sight to you.

His handsome face looks back up at you, this time a big grin appears, which you respond to with a few slow blinks. "We certainly do, babe." he says with a nod of his head, clearly supportive of your choice. Your eyes narrow as he turns at the use of the pet name. But you weren't getting a creepy vibe off this guy, but you were still withholding judgment. And as if your questions were meant to be answered, a man and woman walk into the bar, you feel the cold air move down and brush past your face.

"Oh hey, babydoll! Wasn't sure you'd show." he says, grabbing a box and walking it around the bar towards the man with the small woman.

"Hey Declan." he greets him, he picks her feet up off the floor with the entrapping hug he gives her. It makes the corner of your mouth want to pull back at the kindness behind the gesture. Looks like baby was just a word to him and part of you is grateful. "I'm running late sorry. I can't stay but I know I needed to get this before the morning."

"Otherwise you'd have me up at dawn waiting for you tomorrow to come to pick these up." he grins.

"It's like you know me sweetie." she grins up at him. He gives a hearty slap to shoulder of the man with her in greeting.

"You kids have fun then. That spots great for camping out up there. Just keep a lookout for bears." he says with a point of his finger at them both.

"Yes I know." she nods. "I googled everything, we'll be fine. Food up off the ground and everything, Got it."

"Good girl." he says patting her head, something she frowns insincerely at.

He returns to behind the bar, reaching back into a standing fridge and popping the top off a bottle before he slides it to you. "This one's my favorite." he says with a nod and a smile, your fingertips examine the green glass in your hands. He moves to shut the door to the room he'd retrieved the box from for the now gone, girl. You settle in on the stool, taking your jacket and hat off, fluffing your hair with one hand as he comes back. Your lips to the mouth of the bottle as his eyebrows raise at you in question.

"Shit man, that's good." your eyebrows raise as you look at the bottle. You hear a small grunt of laugh from him. "This looks like what those people just walked out with."

"Nah. Same people brew it, same label, different brew."

"Tastes like...fuckin' cherries or something." you say smacking your lips. "They must ferment it differently." you say, basically to yourself but it catches his attention. You knew your ale.

"Yeah they ferment it at a higher temperature, makes it have that fruity taste to it." he educates you further.

"This local?" your voice inflects with curiosity, meeting his eyes with yours.

"Yeah. But you aren't are you?" he says with that same warm expression.

You shake your head. "No." you take another drink. "I live closer to the city but I work just a few blocks over at the little studio on the corner." you explain.

"That sounds cool. I didn't think I'd seen you around before." his eyes narrow in thought.

"It can be but not today." you shake your head. "I've driven by this place every day on my way to work and never stopped before. With my car in the shop and after the shit day I've had the appeal of alcohol and Zeppelin I heard from outside earlier I just couldn't resist." you shrug and take another bigger drink.

"Well, I'm glad you did. I'm Declan." he extends his hand, you're struck with the size of his arms as one swings closer to you.

"Thanks. Bella." you say with a more friendly tone. Now you weren't strangers. "This your bar?" you ask.

"She's mine alright." he nods proudly. Your eyes wander down the long thin space of the booths and bar, as he walks to the end, and to your surprise he walks over to you, pulling a stool from between his legs and sitting next to you, elbow propped up on the bar. You see a larger room lies past, it remains dark and you can't tell much. But the warmth you feel coming off of his large body, now daunting next to yours pulls your attention from your curiosity of it. He scratches his head, scrunching his face, you look up at him from under your brow as his biceps appearance throws you more off than you'd like to admit. You see he's in light washed, slightly baggy jeans, holes, and scuffs galore, just as you'd expect from what you'd seen of his upper half. His boots have much the same appearance as him, sturdy and worn. "What's brought you to me and my humble second home tonight, Bell?" he asks, head tilted, eyes matched to yours, the laid-back vibe he had put you at ease and you welcomed it as it and the ale warmed you up from the inside out.

"Oh I've had myself a fucking DAY, Declan." you say with a roll of your eyes. He seems to like the use of his name. He likes the way it sounds, seeming to come from you so easily and without any loaded backstory attached.

"Sounds like it." he says with a lazy smile.

"I don't want to just sit here and bitch at you while you're working." you say shaking your head, not wanting to take the entirety of the man's attention.

"It's a weeknight sweetheart, do I look busy?" he asks with a smirk. Your big green eyes move around the bar.

"You've got a point," you say with a nod, taking another drink. "If you want to hear me bitch I mean...I'll sure as hell oblige." you say with a shrug, and he smiles, chin raised to show he's listening.

"Well, it all started..." you begin.  You're about to get into the girl touching the recording equipment when a seemingly harmless middle-aged balding man bops around the corner of the back room you can't see.

"Gimmie a loooooong neck!" he shouts, drunk but not angry.

He turns with a frown of apology to you, which was needless but you appreciated it. "Get it yourself Gary, you've been drinking the same thing for 20 years." he shouts back, looking back at you will an animated roll of his eyes. When his eyes fall back on you, you're smiling. The first smile he'd seen since you came in. He knew he wanted to see more of them from you. "Don't mind him. You were saying something about a rejected sweet sixteen applicant?" he grins.

He listens, and intently, eyes always on you every time you look up from the bartop or from your bottle. He raises and slaps the bar top. "That's it girly." he says, moving back behind the bar again, "On the house." he states, putting another bottle in front of you.

"Wha-?" you ask with a wrinkled nose he finds charming.

"Your drinks tonight. On the house." he says as if it's obvious.

"Uh..." you stutter and show your surprise. "That's very kind of you but-"

"Nope. I see a dollar of your money and I'm not giving you any more of that." he grins, pointing to the bottle.

Damn, he was nice, you thought, a subtle frown on your face as he turns to reach for a bottle with a stopper in the top, sitting two shot glasses in front of you. Damn, he was really fucking nice.

"Christ, dude you giving me Jameson too?" your eyes are wide and you take a deep breath as he takes the glass in his hand, you mirror the action. "My ancestors applaud the choice." you say with a chuckle that he returns.

"Oh you're Irish?" his chin lowers and one eyebrow raises.

"Half yeah." you give a quick nod.

"Oh well then get the fuck outta here." he manages to get out without sputtering with laughter.

Your face scrunches up and you let out a louder laugh, your shoulders moving with it. "To..." you pause to think for a moment. "To this hangover not killing me tomorrow." you say with a wide smile he's thankful to see as proof that your mood is improving.

He nods, you tap your glasses on the bar top and shoot them back. "Won't think less of me for drinking on the job will ya?" he says with a smack of his lips.

"It's your fucking bar, man do whatever you want, who am I gonna tell?" you smirk.

So time passes and the drinks pass with it. People come in and out of the bar, you switch from stool to booth to pool table and back. You playfully argue about White vs Rob Zombie, as per the shirt you're wearing.

"At least I'm not Mr. Dad Rock over here, I bet you put on the B side of IV and give a girl a six pack and the panties just go FLYING don't they?" you say with a loud laugh he matches, both smacking at each other.

"You sound like you're speaking from experience," he says with a sigh, wiping his face as his eyes started watering from the goofiness of your banter through the night. "Sound a bit salty about it, to be honest." he teases.

You snort and smack his knee, "I might be speaking from both." you admit, a laugh that grows and you shut your eyes with it. "Who says you can't learn from your mistakes?" you say with a goofy shrug.”Even if it takes it a few times to stick.”

At this point in the night there are only two other people, as you're wiping the laughing tears from your eyes you notice this, then your phone lights up and you see the time. How the fuck was it past 10 already. You pick it up and look at it. "Fuck it's later than I thought." you say, pushing your hands on the countertop. You stand and feel his arm around you before you even realize your knees are knocking.

"Woah there, hun." he says, hands on your sides, eyes clearer than yours and concerned.

"Oh you went and got me fuckin' druuuunnnnnnnnk." you say in a deep scolding voice.

"In my defense, you did the drinkin' yourself there babe." he chuckles, still holding you steady as he stands.

"Never rode the bus wasted before. This'll be a fuckin' story to tell you next time I come in here for sure." Although he didn't think you wouldn't come back, he's glad to hear you were already thinking about it.

"You are not riding the bus like this, sweetheart. Not at this time of night." he says, shaking his head. "Not anytime actually. You baby foal. I thought you could handle your liquor."

"I can I've just been sitting for 12 hours straight haven't I? Makes the legs no worky." you explain with a frown and he laughs at you again.

"Whatever you gotta tell yourself." he pats your head, as you steady yourself with one hand.

"If I were shorter I'd be mad about that." you say. You hear him huff out a laugh as he moves behind the bar and retrieves a huge fur and leather coat. Guess he was human after all, he could be part sun god for all you knew. Maybe that's why those dudes warned you, a mere weak mortal walking into the den of god. Oh wow, you were drunk.

"You want a ride home hun?" he asks very politely with a hand on your shoulder. He was going to beg if he had to, he wasn't letting a nice girl like you alone whether you were drunk or not.

"Ugh," you say, putting your arms in your jacket in a fussy way. "It's like 20 minutes away Declan, I can't put you out like that I'll call an uber or somethin'."

"I close soon anyway, you aren't putting me out. Mike's here to lock up anyway." He didn't trust anyone else to make sure you got where you needed to go, feeling protective over you. Not many nice women came into his bar, he didn’t want you running away so soon. And of course he felt partially responsible for the amount of alcohol you'd consumed. He'd given you some shit over being drunk but damn did you hold it well. You weren't wobbly as you step away from the bar, bending at the knees and stretching your sides.

"Seeing as I've been seen here I don't think you'll murder me...Would you? Promise me you won't murder me and I'll let you take me home." you say with a nod, a smirk on your face as you shove one of your gloves into your mouth and pull the other on.

"I solemnly swear I will not murder you, Bell." he nods in a charming serious way.

You playfully narrow your eyes at him. "Cross your heart?" you say before a silly smile spreads across your face.

"And hope to die." he chuckles, moving his finger over his chest.

"Only a real fucking asshole would break one of those promises." you narrow your eyes again, tugging your hat on and moving towards the door. "And don't tell anyone but I don't think you're an asshole."

"Oh she's got compliments." he says with a fan of his face in jest at your words.

"Nah she's just drunk on Jameson." you laugh as he stands right behind you, reaching down to open the door. "Oh fuck." you whisper as the ice hits you immediately. It was snowing. And hard.

"Looks like you wouldn't be getting that bus tonight anyway." he says, pursing his lips, hand on your back as you make your way out the warm, sepia-toned confines of his bar and out into the crisp, cold biting air of the cool-toned night.

You make it a few steps before you slip, which for the state of the sidewalk, was not something that was to blame on your sobriety.

"Ya gotta be careful there babe." he says, catching you for the second time that night in his over sized hands, feeling their grip past the layers you wore.

"That isn't from being drunk, I promise. There's ice." you whine with wide, honest eyes looking up into his.

"I'm inclined to believe you." he says with another warm, whiskey toned softly spoken words.

"Wait. Can you drive? Are you drunk?" you suddenly recall. He laughs and puts a hand around your elbow, the other around your waist as you head down the sidewalk slowly.

"I am not." he says with a reassuring smile. "Takes a bit more to get me drunk than it does a little thing like you." he explains, no teasing in his voice. You suppose to him, everyone was little in comparison so you take no offense. ----- The weather's worse by the time he pulls into the small driveway you're extremely lucky to have in this part of town. The usual 20ish minute drive you'd promised had turned into almost an hour. You felt bad about him doing this. But then again you weren't used to the level of attention and thoughtfulness he seemed to naturally exude. He did drive slow but an untreated road no matter the speed was an obstacle in an of itself, even in a four-wheel drive.

"You...uhhh..." you start, your hand on the handle of the door of the truck. You purse your lips, brow furrowed as you force your eyes to meet him. "It's really shitty outside, do you want to come in for some coffee or tea or something before you try to get out in this?" your tone isn't suggestive, and he never took it that way.

"I-uh..." he begins the same as you. He didn't want you to think that him going inside had been part of this plan originally. Didn't want you to think he was that kind of guy. But you weren't being seductive, your face reading as more concerned than anything.  "Yeah." he nods. "At least wait to see if the salt trucks start running through anytime soon." he says, corner of his mouth pulled back.

"Alright. Good." you say, a half smile at him before you move to hop out of the truck. You're taking your time making your way up the walk as he comes up behind you, hand hovering behind you just in case. You dig into your pockets inside your jacket.

You switch a lamp on in a narrow hallway, he takes in the hardwood floors, a colorful long rug lays down the hallway that leads to a darkened archway.  You throw your keys on a hook, taking off your layers. "Lock the door behind you please," you say, toeing off your boots. "Hang that cool ass coat up before I try to steal it." you say with a pleasant smile.

"Oh thanks." he says with a proud little grin, following instructions. 

You lean across a doorway, slapping a wall and hitting a switch, multiple lamps come on in the living room. "Go ahead and make yourself comfy." you say, moving your face back to him before turning to walk down the hall. "And don't mind Robert, he won't bother you."

"Robert?" he asks, eyes looking over the aesthetically pleasing room, walls decorated in paintings, framed records, and hanging guitars.  You were getting more and more appealing the longer he stayed around which enticed him to see where the night would go. He opens his phone to the weather, to see just how bad it's supposed to get.

"Yeah my cat." you call from the kitchen. A light switches on, another doorway illuminated to him as he looks up to see you moving around an exposed brick and steel filled kitchen.

"You named your cat Robert?" he laughs, looking up, his eyes landing on a small bookcase, filled with vinyl. His lips form an excited O as he moves and kneels in front of the records.

"Yeah, he's a little weird. He likes to sit in the flower pot in the window all and do nothing like a plant." you explain, he hears a tap turn on, a fridge open and close.

"So you named him Robert?" he asks with a questioning laugh.

Your head appears are the corner. "Yeah. Robert Plant." you say with a straight face as his head tilts with an exasperated expression of 'really?' at you. A huge smart assed grin appears on your face.

"Clever girl." he says, looking back to the shelves.

"I'm starving Declan, you want something?" your hand rests on your rounded out hip.

"What ya got?" he asks, raising and moving to lean in the doorway as you stand before an open fridge.

"Well. I was thinking some grilled cheese and bacon or something."

"Fuck yes." he says in a drawn-out deep way that makes you immediately turn and laugh at him.

"My sentiments exactly." you say, moving to retrieve the ingredients and plant yourself in front of the stove. He's planted himself in front of the records, you hear noises of approval so you think his review of your taste will be good.

"Oh hey little man!" you hear him exclaim. Robert must've decided to appear. You hear the familiar meow. "Oh you're a cute, big-eyed thing aren't you?" you hear him coo, the sweet tone making you smile. Robert did have a bit of a mushed face, bless him, with big orange eyes that were a touch too googly for his fluffy calico body, but you loved him just the same. "What a funky little dude." you hear him praise the meowing ball of fluff. You laugh out loud at the comment.

"No one wanted to adopt him because he is a little disproportioned, the poor baby." you explain. "But I saw him and his scruffy little face and I just fell in love with him."

He smiles contently at the cat, your words just giving him more reason to like you, you were a low key sweetheart, he could tell that much in all the...six or so hours he'd known you. How was it only that much time? You felt like old friends already. The cat quickly loses interest and goes towards the delicious smell coming from the kitchen. He moves back to inspecting your musical compatibility, you were doing very well so far. Rock and Roll in general, a touch of harder, a touch of softer. Good bit of Motown and disco, some newer looking records that he didn't know of and this intrigued him.

You walk into the room, a plate in each hand, each holding two grilled cheese sandwiches, multicolored cheese and bacon chunks oozing out the side. "C'mon." you motion your head towards the couch.

"I knew that smell was making my mouth water but they look even better than they smell somehow." he says, licking his lips at the sight. So he was motivated by food it seemed, and who could blame him. It wasn't like you learned how to cook because you hated food.

You set yours down on the coffee table before retreating into the kitchen and returning with bottled water, two cups, and a small teapot. You pour him a cup, your hands steady as the liquid steamed.

"They could taste like shit." you say with a straight face and he laughs, taking the plate from you as you sit cross-legged on the sofa next to him.

"There's no way in hell." he says, both hands on the sandwich already. You place the plate in your lap and move to take a bite. You both moan on contact.

"Fuck." you groan.

"Shit." he exclaims. "Bell, these are amazing." he says, another bite taken before the first is even swallowed. You can't help but feel proud. When the only other person you cook for, your friend Charlotte, is super picky it's harder to enjoy cooking because you so rarely got an enthusiastic reaction like his was without any coaxing.

"Thanks." you say after swallowing, not inhaling yours in the same manner, you sip your tea and watch him happily devour the plate of food quickly. You aren't even finished with your first sandwich and you give him a closed mouth, happy smile.

"These representative of your taste in music?" he asks, cutting the silence, hand motioning towards the bookcase.

"Oh yeah. I mean, I usually just listen to one of the music apps but I'm still a sucker for vinyl for things I really like." you nod in explanation. "Also just stuff I find at flea markets that strikes me as interesting, so it's a mixed bag. I just like some of the old album art."

"Oh yeah I get that." he says with a nod, eyes moving to the walls. "Like these?" he asks, the framed series of records on the wall to your right.

"Yeah, except that one." you point to one in the corner. "That's the first one I ever played on that we did at the studio."

"Guitar I'm assuming?" he nods to the two hanging on the wall, one a worn acoustic and one a matte black axe. What an interesting combination, he thought.

"Assuming right." you say after chewing another bite. "I went through a real big 80's metal phase and bought the axe on a whim." you chuckle while you chew.

"Looks cool as hell." he says with an impressed pursing of his lips.

"Agreed." you grin smugly before sipping your tea.

"You get to play a lot on the stuff you record down there?" he's leaned back on the couch now, phone left on the coffee table by yours, eyes intently watching you.

"Sometimes. I do rhythm and the technical aspects the most. But on that one I had to stand in for their guitarist after he got in a fight and broke some fingers...so I stepped in." you elaborate, finishing off your sandwiches.

"That sounds really cool. Seriously." he gives an enthusiastic series of nods.

"Well I think being a bar owner sounds cool." you say with a shrug.

"Sometimes." he says with a nod, withholding his usual enthusiasm so you change the subject.

"What's the verdict on the weather?" you ask, taking the plates to the kitchen.

"Mmmm..." he hums, looking it up on his phone, you walk from the kitchen, switching off the light and moving to the big window in the living room.

By the noise you make he knows the verdict of your judgment on the aggression of the storm to not be favorable. "I'm afraid it's not good, dude." you say, still looking out the window and shaking your head.

"This says much the same." he grumbles, raising to stand behind you and get a look himself. The roads still untouched, his truck already covered in a layer of snow.

"Uhhh...Declan?" you say hesitantly.

"Yeah Bells?" he asks, you both look to each other.

"You're gonna have to stay. You realize that right?" the corner of mouth draws up in thought.

"Is that..." he starts, pausing to shift his eyes for a moment. "Is that okay?" he hesitantly asks. "I don't want you to think that's what this was about."

"Don’t worry,  we're on the same page. I didn't want you to think I was getting fresh with you. You're just...you're nice and I don't want you putting yourself in danger in this." you admit.

"Well aren't you sweet." he smiles down at you.

"Eh. Wait till you deal with me in the morning and then see if you want to say that." you laugh, shutting the curtains. "I'm gonna grab some blankets." you say, moving into the closed door off a small hallway near the corner of the living room.

You appear again, a stack of comforters and pillows that tower over your head. As soon as he see's you with them he moves to take them from you.

"Couch is a pull-out, by the way. No way your tall ass is gonna be comfy otherwise." you laugh as you move pillows.

"You don't have to move stuff on my account." he hurriedly says, setting down the pillows into an empty chair.

"Hush, you brought me home and didn't have to, I can move some metal a few feet for you," you say with the shake of your head. "You can pull the coffee table over there though." you point to the far side of the room. 

So you've got it all out, blankets, pillows, space heater, all boxes checked.

"Alright. Remotes are there if you can't sleep, phone chargers on the side table, get whatever you want out of the kitchen. I'm the door on the left if you need me." you motion to the dark wooden door in the small hallway he'd seen you retreat to earlier. "You good?" you inquire, eyebrows high at him.

"More than, sweetheart, you talk about me being nice." he says with a smirk.

"Like I said. Just wait." you nod and chuckle. You move to switch off the lights, the glow of the space heater now the main source of illumination. "Night Declan." you lilt as you round the corner.

"Night Bella." he says in a soft, sweet tone that you let make your face form into a girlish smile since he can no longer see it.

CHAPTER 2

[bleedingcoffee42]

Eureka AU- Part 4

This is fun, I’m enjoying writing this.  Halfway to 20k.  

  Pulling in some references of background FMA people who don’t get used much.  Dr. Jude is from the ‘Blind Alchemist’ OVA, Dr. Crowley from the Curse of the Crimson Elixir game.  And yes, Frank fucking Archer shows up so not much foreshadowing there.     

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 

xxxxxxxxxx

“Quite the amazing prototype.”  Captain Frank Archer reported after his test run with the Ultimate Eye.  The entire hour long experience in the fields around Eureka was breathtaking.    He encountered drone attacks, robots, some weird one eyed sex doll and multiple hazards and obstacles to tackle.  Each time the Ultimate Eye gave him the information he required to make every move, every shot count.   All fed right into his field of vision.  It was like living every video game simulation he every fantasized about bring to work.   Now it was a reality.    “General Raven, this is everything we have dreamed of.”

General Raven smiled and looked over at Mustang who was waiting for his response with a smug look on his face.   “I'll have to give it to you Mustang, this delivers on your promise to the budget committee and then some.”

“It's still a prototype, General.”  Roy said and held out the open pocket watch for Archer to put the contact lens back in.   He was eager to have the tech back in his possession before someone else ran off with it. “We still need to integrate a informational database that will support it.   Right now you're looking at topography maps, weather data, weapons specs and not much else. “

Archer reluctantly removed the piece and put it back in it's case.  “The thermal imaging is better than what we have now.”

“The lens itself is functional, but the computer needs to be fed the information to interpret it.”  Roy explained.  “It's only going to get better from here.”

“When can it go in production, as is?” Raven asked as Mustang snapped the watch closed and put it in his vest pocket.  He and Archer both watched that precious piece of tech disappear into his vest as if the sun just vanished behind the clouds and deprived them of the warmth and light they had been basking in.

“When it's ready.”  Roy replied and walked with the General out of the testing field and back to his car.  “As the database grows, the software needs to grow.   Then we can make adjustments with the user interface and product itself.”

“I didn't come all this way for a bullshit answer, Mustang.”   Raven said.  “I want a tangible date.”

“Give us six months.”  Roy said.  “It will be ready to be shipped and ready for it's experimental runs.”

“I plan to hold you to that.”  Raven said and got in the car.

Roy watched Archer get in with him, still smiling, and the driver left to take them to the hotel in town.   He pulled out his phone and called Riza to report in on the success.   Four months ago he would have just gone back to his office and celebrated his success alone by moving on to another project.   He would have gone home in a good mood and failed to share anything but the 'It went well' and probably would have left it at that.  Being in a good mood would put him at ease and he'd undoubtedly be the man Riza actually fell in love with, which would lead to the day culminating in great sex with his wife.   Then he would screw it all up the next day when Raven saw a not so promising sex doll/soldier wandering the fields with an leaking eyeball that was shot out screaming like a pterodactyl.   He would have been in a foul mood and brought it home.   He was glad he wasn't that man anymore.    He did wish his wife was here to shoot that Mannequin soldier as it was now humping a tree.   “Can someone please go get that damned thing or put it down?”

“I'll get it!” Dr. Crowley ran out from behind the observation screen to get his project before someone executed it.

“I expect a report on my desk in the morning as to why that thing now has the desire to want to fuck a tree!” Roy hollered and  of course that was the exact second Riza chose to answer her phone.  He heard her laugh and immediately his tension subsided.   “Hello dear.”

“How did it go?”

“Captain Archer is smiling, so I can't guarantee he didn't witness some homunculus kink.”  Roy said as Crowley tried to coax his creation away from the tree it was now clinging to.   He turned away.  He didn't want to know until it became a problem.  

“Frank archer?  Trust me, he's probably only turned on by the thought of tech that can kill people.”

“Comforting. Thanks dear.”  

“I need to check in with Raven before I call it a day.”

“Raven is heading back to his hotel.   Dr. Jude is packing up.   I'm heading back to my office to just check on a few things before I head home.”  He looked at his watch.   “Dinner at 4?”

“Will it be moist?”

“It's going to be fucking burnt if you use that word once more.”  He threatened.  

“See you at home.”

Roy smiled and hung up.    He knew his attitude had changed just sharing a little bit of his work burden with someone, damned near everyone had commented on it. That was saying a lot since most of the time people were scared to talk to him because he'd have some scathing sarcastic remark to put them on the verge of tears.  He was glad to have her as his partner in this, it made his life easier and better than he could imagine. He had to admit that having Riza by his side for even the most ridiculous tasks made things go smoother,  he even enjoyed joining her for her jobs even if they did spend their morning tracking down a homunculus.   As he heard one more horrifying screech, he really wished he insisted she stay for this trial so she could shoot that damned Mannequin Soldier.  

He looked across the test field and up to the hill where the Bradley's house overlooked the town.  They couldn't see anything as the test area was in a valley, but he could see it.   Fr the first time he actually looked at it as more than just scenery.  His thought about that house and couldn't help but compare it to their own home.  His home was modern, minimal and open.  The old house the Bradley's had was older, smaller but cozy.   A completely different feel to it.   It overlooked the town and wasn't lost among all the other houses that were lined up on the street.  He opened his contacts and looked for Mrs. Bradley and gave her a call as a thought entered his mind that felt right.

“Hello again Mrs. Bradley, It's Dr. Mustang.   Yes...everything is fine, actually I'm calling you on a more personal matter.  No....I don't need melon.   It's about your house, if you ever decided you wanted to sell your home, I would be very interested in buying it.”

Xxxxxxxxx

Riza was frustrated that she was going to be late getting home.  Roy was cooking, she hated to keep him waiting, but for some reason Raven had insisted she update her vaccinations per some recent bulletin that she didn't get or feel she needed to be included in.   He ordered it be done immediately as he had to bring the vaccination in a cooler with him from base to ensure it was delivered and given.   He mumbled about some kind of deposit and handed her the paperwork.  She sent Roy a text telling him she had to fulfill this obligation to her health records and would be late.   She was subject to the medical policies of Eureka itself, it seemed a little extra to be included in some field instructions when she was thousands of miles from any front.  She had been worried that maybe Raven was considering reassigning her, until she found herself with an entirely different problem.

Going to the infirmary was not a big deal, however one routine part of any exam for any woman was being asked “Are you pregnant?” by every medical professional for any ailment or condition.   This time, she had to admit that she was late and it was a possibility. She didn't tell Dr. Knox she hadn't gone for a home pregnancy test because she was waiting for one to arrive in the mail.  She was actually waiting in anticipation for her period, but that sounded like ignoring the problem and hoping it went away.  So she took the test.

Eureka was small and gossip traveled fast.   The last thing she wanted was to go to the pharmacy and leave with a pregnancy test.   She didn't want any false alarms and it's not like she hadn't experienced irregularities in her cycle before.   Especially here, where the scientists could literally be the cause of anything.   So she ordered one online and sent it to the office, hoping to ease her mind and make this easier on everyone.

She was on the pill and as far as she could recall didn't miss a single one.  However, she and Roy had been on hiatus for a month and she was not expecting to have sex during that time so it was possible she could have forgotten something.  Especially when she was dealing with that Barry situation and had a few sleepless nights.   So it seemed like a good place to finally just put her mind at ease anyhow.   Her doctor here was a professional and  patient confidentiality was a thing he took seriously.   She could just take the test, get her vaccination and stop waiting for her manila envelope from Amazon to arrive in the mail.  

“I have some good news.” Dr. Knox said.

Riza breathed a sigh of relief.   Well all that worry for nothing.

“You're pregnant.”  

Riza felt like he had kicked her in the gut.   Knox gave her a smile, a weird feature for the gruff doctor and he saw her reaction and she watched it fade away.   “I'm sorry, what?  You said good news?”

Knox grimaced. “Typically when someone waits to see the doctor for a pregnancy test they want it to be positive.”

“Are you sure?”

Knox handed her the test results.   He wasn't sure what she was asking for confirmation of.   “If you need to discuss options, we can do that, but I recommend thinking on it a while before you do.  Especially if  this wasn't planned.”

Riza stared at the words on the paper.  No it wasn't planned.   The last thing she expected was to have Roy stroll back into town two months ago and finish that conversation of theirs with sex on his desk.    It could have been anytime, but after that she was much more vigilant about her pills.   She just took it for granted that she didn't go lax on protocol while he was away, but she had so much on her plate at the time that....apparently she missed something.

“False positive might be a thing, but not in this town.  That's a guaranteed result from the Curtis Test.”  Knox said.  “Do you want me to do an exam?”

“No, I'm late for dinner. Thank you.”  She said and folded up the paper and gave him a weak smile.  Late for a lot of things.   She and Roy never even talked about kids.   They talked about a dog, but never kids.  When did she tell him?  AS soon as she got home?   After dinner?  Could she even eat dinner now that she was feeling so queasy from the news?  

“Just call me if you have any questions.” Knox said and opened the door for her.  

xxxxxxxxx

Roy was excited and he couldn't wait for Riza to get home.   Mrs. Bradley admitted she wanted to move closer to school now that Selim was ready to start school and agreed to sell him her house!   He couldn't wait to see the look on Riza's face when he told her he got them a home. Something for both of them  and something with a yard where they could have a dog!  So he ran over to the door when his phone alerted him to someone on the door step and startled her with a grin and “Welcome home!”

Riza's keys were still in her hand and she looked at Roy wondering why he was so excited.   Had Knox called him with the news?  No.  Knox would have never done that.   This had to be something else.   “Did the General increase your budget or something?  You're really excited.”

Roy let her come in and closed the door and then bounded in front of her like a puppy excited to see it's owner.  “I have a surprise!”

Riza was just at a loss for the source of his enthusiasm.   So all she said was a monotone, “Me too.”

“I bought us a house!”  He exclaimed.   “Bradley's farmhouse!  You said you liked it and it reminded you of your childhood home. I've been thinking about how this was just my house you moved in to.   It's not our home.   Hell, I know you really don't like it that much so I thought we could start over together with our own home and maybe a puppy!”

Riza stood there and blinked.   He...bought a house? For them.   It was definitely more thoughtful than just handing her the keys to his home, but it would have been more thoughtful to include her in the process.  She dared not tell him that she was just creating small talk and she honestly didn't like how much that house reminded her of her childhood home.   She didn't have a good childhood, she joined the military to get away from that house.     However, Roy meant well.   He was excited.   He was ready for a new life together and this was his way of committing to that.   He was giving up the house he custom built and crafted to his old lifestyle.   This was huge for him.  “I have something to tell you too.”

“You're bleeding.”

“What?”  Riza asked as he grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her nose.  She watched it come away from her face with blood from a nosebleed.  

“Are you alright?”  Roy asked and put his hand on her forehead to check for a fever.   He looked in her eyes to notice they were slightly bloodshot.   The nosebleed wasn't stopping.  “You said you went for a vaccination?   What were the side effects?”

Riza took the tissue and dabbed at her own nose.    She felt embarrassed.  She hoped she didn't tear up in the car when she was thinking about her condition.   She had to be flushed because she was nervous.   The nosebleed could be from anything.    “I'm fine.”

Roy took her wrist to feel for a pulse and she pulled away.   “You could be having a reaction. For god's sake Riza, I'm a doctor can you please...”

“You're not a medical doctor.”  She said and went for another tissue.  That was a lot of blood.  

“I know enough about biology to know that this is concerning.”  He said and pulled his phone out.  “What vaccine did they give you?”

“I don't know it was something the military insisted I have.  Some bulletin I didn't get because I'm not on base.  Raven brought it with him.”  Riza pulled the tissue away and grabbed another.  

Roy called the infirmary.   “I need to talk to Dr. Knox, now.”

“Roy.”  She reached out for his phone in a panic, thinking Knox would infer this was about her pregnancy and tell him before she got the chance.   As she reached for it though she got light headed and Roy grabbed her as she fell into him.

“We're going to the infirmary.”  He said and hung up his phone.  “Don't argue with me on this.”