#so there's this giant chasm between them neither one can cross | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oops-prow-did-it-again · 4 years

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Pokémon Retold: Hidden Grottos - Something More

Hil wrestles with guilt over what Reshiram did to one of the Shadow Triad. Also lots of Hil/N fluff. I’m not sorry.

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Timeline: ~10 months after Black 2

Setting: Unova

Notes: Fluff. All the fluff. I'm really not sorry. Though there is some minor blood mention (mostly through recollections of the battle aboard the Frigate from Black 2). Also, I realized like 4k words in that uh, it didn't make a lot of sense for neither of them to have their pokémon out, since Hil likes to let his team out while he sleeps and N kinda isn't a huge fan of Poké Balls, but… I really don't wanna potentially ruin the flow by going in and adding little addendums about their pokémon here and there. So just imagine Noodle is in there somewhere and N's Zoroark is probably out of its Poké Ball too lol. It's fluff, dangit, I'm sorry! Lol I started writing this at 12am and could not stop (it's currently 4am. Aaaaa)

Characters: Hilbert (Hil), N, Reshiram

Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2

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The scent of blood was heavy on the air and the breeze lashed his face, bitterly cold to the point it felt like daggers digging into his skin, and strong enough to blow him away. Hil gritted his teeth and dug his shoes into the wooden deck below him, but when he looked up, all he could see was the battered, broken Plasma Frigate ahead of him, Reshiram divebombing it again and again with Fusion Flares. Yet, there was nobody else aboard the crumbling ship… Feeling like something sticky was covering his hands, Hil flicked his wrists and then gasped at the red fluid that was slung to the deck. Shakily turning over his palms to look at them, he blanched at the thick, scarlet coating over his hands. Then, Reshiram landed in front of him, and a powerful gust of wind knocked him to his stomach.

Immediately, the biting cold was gone and the pain from hitting the ground seemed much more real. Groaning, he leaned up and blinked fervently as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the hotel room, discovering he was laying against the tiled floor and cocooned in thrashed blankets. He dazedly tried to unravel himself, turning over, but jumped when N scrambled over to him. In his grogginess from having woken up so suddenly, he had almost forgotten N was even there… He gave N an apologetic, almost nervous smile for that, even though he knew it wasn't like N could have known.

"Hil, are you alright?" N asked fretfully as he cautiously leaned over to help him out of the blankets. "What happened…?"

"Yeah, sorry," Hil mumbled as he grasped N's hand, leaning on him as he unfolded his legs to stand up. He winced at N's second question. Sighing, he pondered what to say. The truth? He knew what the nightmare had been about.

Every now and then, he'd have some variation of the same setup. He would be aboard the Plasma Frigate, alone, with Reshiram somehow involved. Sometimes, she would fiercely roar in his face and that would wake him up; sometimes, she'd land in front of him with a person's broken body in her jaws. The nightmares were always gory and unpleasant, and somehow, he would always wake up knowing exactly what they were getting at… Though, he supposed that wasn't so strange. Even in his waking hours, he'd sometimes think back to the Shadow Triad member that had informed him the Plasma Frigate had been a decoy, and how Reshiram had callously then dispatched him.

In the wake of the events aboard the Frigate, cleanup efforts resulted in bodies getting recovered from the ship. Among them had been that Shadow Triad member (the other two, along with Dr. Colress and Rosa, had never been found despite their best efforts in searching over Unova). If he were honest, it disturbed Hil on a haunting level that man had been killed while trying to assist him, not to mention how part of him was convinced the Shadow Triad didn't mean any harm to begin with and were somehow victims as well in all of it. After all, despite telling him that they couldn't let him kill Ghetsis, they had reassured him that Ghetsis wouldn't survive their encounter, nonetheless (though they had yet to locate his body, and Hil doubted they ever would). Every time he thought of that chilling, final encounter with the remaining brothers, a tremor of guilt would crawl up his spine. While one of them had lain dead and mangled aboard the Frigate, his brothers had assisted Hil one, final time, coyly finding a loophole in Ghetsis' control… Had they even known…? If they did, would they have even had the capacity to care?

Regardless, he had wanted to talk to Reshiram, to understand why she had chosen to murder that one so coldly, but frustratingly enough, he had found it impossible to communicate with her following that fateful battle in the Giant Chasm. She didn't seem upset with him and could stay out of her Light Stone form for as long as she pleased nowadays, but he just couldn't… talk to her like he had during their battle with Ghetsis and Kyurem. It was absolutely maddening! Part of him thought N could have helped him, but…

How could he have expressed all of that to N? N, who had been held captive by the Shadow Triad as well as Ghetsis to the point that he grew restless and upset staying in one place too long? In fact, they were currently staying at a hotel in Hoenn, quite the distance from Unova, because of N's need for new sights and smells. They had a few more days slated out before they would return to Unova to complete the tasks that had surely been piling up for them. It was a tense routine they had started to fall into following Hil's realization that N had felt trapped at the Pokémon League. That he hadn't even realized he was allowed to leave it.

"Hil?" N pressed softly when Hil didn't answer, wrenching him from his stupor. "What's wrong…?"

Hil sucked in a fast breath and sat down on the (now blanketless) bed behind him. No, he couldn't talk to N about that. N had been through so much more than he possibly could have ever hoped to understand, and what if he were hurt by Hil showing pity for his previous captors? "Sorry," he mumbled, "It was nothing. Just a dumb nightmare. Didn't make any sense." That sounded pathetic even to me. I can see Reshiram rolling her eyes at me now for how see-through that lie was.

Shuffling away, N crossed his arms, and an awkward silence started to build. Hil's heart pounded more and more as it stretched on, until he snatched the blankets from the floor and tossed them back on his twin bed. He didn't bother rearranging them, but he just wanted something, anything to break this miserable silence, something to send N away so he could go back to—

"You've been having a lot of nightmares," N interrupted his thoughts. Freezing briefly, Hil then licked his suddenly clammy lips and locked his stare on N. He still wore that off-white bandage around his head, hiding his missing eye from sight, but Hil had learned to read his expressions expertly in the time they had spent together since then. Right then, N had a sour, almost cagy, expression, one that radiated… disappointment? Hil didn't know what to make of that. All he knew was that he wanted N to go back to bed, so he could go back to bed, and forget all about this awkward conversation, wherever it was headed. He tensed slightly as N kept speaking. "I may have just one eye now, but I am not blind to how you clearly do not want to talk to me about this, whatever it is… I don't blame you for having nightmares. There are countless experiences I know you've been through that could cause them." N shifted his weight from side to side and his hands slowly dropped to his sides. "But… I don't understand why you don't want to talk to me about them… You have told me so much. I have told you so much… You have helped me whenever I have fought with nightmares. Especially if I ever woke in a fashion much like you just did. So… why do you not want to tell me?"

Feeling like a Deerling in headlights at N's blunt, yet respectful questioning, Hil's mouth fell open but no words came out. He didn't know what to say to that… "It's just… nothing I want to worry you about," he responded lamely at last, feeling his stomach twist into anxious knots. No longer able to meet N's single eye, Hil looked at his fidgeting hands and then pulled his feet to the bed, intending to curl back up and tell N he was tired. Just as he went to open his mouth to say so, however, N cut him off.

"I have spent a lot of my life with others deciding what I was allowed to know or not. Do you intend to do that as well?" he asked matter-of-factly, with the mildest inflection of annoyance. When Hil looked up at him this time, the corner of N's lips twitched with a hint of well-restrained frustration, and then he moved to sit down on the bed next to Hil. His movements were stiff and almost… cautious. Almost instinctively, Hil maneuvered so that he was sitting upright on the edge of the bed again, maintaining that distance between himself and N. Although N hadn't been able to explain to him exactly why, Hil knew that the other could be finicky about close contact with people. Sometimes, he found it comforting, and would welcome hugs or at least tolerate being near others, while there were other times where N would bristle at contact and would, quite vocally, ask to not be touched. Over time, Hil had learned to pick up on the subtle differences in N's movements to know when was or wasn't a good time to approach him—and now was definitely not one of those times, based on the tension in his form and the way he was averting his gaze.

Not that Hil could blame him. Shame made his cheeks burn red as he heard N's question, and his hands immediately fidgeted more, starting to shake slightly. Damn his anxiety. "N… no," Hil weakly mumbled through uncooperative lips. "I don't… I'm not trying to… trick you, or anything…"

"Yet, you were lying to me… were you not?"

Exasperated, Hil groaned and hung his head. "When you put it like that, it sounds so much worse than what it is!"

N sounded a little more frustrated then. "So, what is it, then? If it's not that bad, why is it such a secret?"

"People are allowed to not tell others things sometimes, N," Hil defensively retorted before he stopped to think. Almost right away, he cringed at the snappiness in his tone. Also since he and N had become the Consuls of Unova, he had come to understand that N had a very direct way of communicating. He didn't understand nuances or social cues that well, and the concepts of insinuations or passive-aggression were lost on him. So, he knew that N couldn't have possibly meant to suggest he didn't deserve privacy, and most likely wouldn't have understood his snippy reply in the slightest. Turning a worried look to N, he was proven correct by how the other looked utterly stunned.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Hil blubbered in a panic, covering his face. "Look… I'm… I'm sorry. It was a nightmare about the Plasma Frigate. You know how I said Reshiram… Reshiram killed one of the Shadow Triad in front of me? Every now and then, I just… I just feel so bad about it. I feel so bad for him, and for his two brothers, and I know that's stupid because they helped keep you a prisoner in that madhouse of Ghetsis', and that's why I didn't want to talk about it, because you don't need to feel pity for people who helped abuse you, and—"

"Hil," N interjected gently, finally bringing Hil's anxious run-on sentence to an end. With something Hil swore was a twinge of amusement, N asked, "Is that really it?"

Daring to move his fingers to cautiously eye the other through the gaps between them, Hil swallowed hard. "Um… yeah, that's… that's pretty much it…"

Giving a relieved sigh, the tension in N's form left with the very air he exhaled. "I really thought it would be something so much worse," he chuckled lightly. Shaking his head, making his messy, green hair fan out over his shoulders, he turned a sad smile on Hil. "Hil, I don't hold anything against the Shadow Triad… They were just as used as I was." His smile dissipated as he curled his lips slightly in disgust. "Even when I was little… I knew that something was… incorrect with them. Even with the limited group of people I was allowed around, I could tell they didn't behave like others… For a while, I'll admit, that made me like them a lot. I felt like they might understand me, because I didn't feel like I fit in with other humans well, either. Of course, I learned that they didn't get me, and that they really didn't understand much of anything and were just obedient, but… I really liked them when I was little." N almost wistfully tilted his head and closed his eyes. "Ghetsis… did not name them… I thought that was really sad when I was young. All humans in the stories I had read or that I had met had names, so I thought it was only fitting they should have one, too." He laughed. "I asked them what they would like to be called."

Relaxing at N's unexpectedly sympathetic reaction, Hil lowered his hands from his face and scooted closer to the other. Still trembling thanks to the close call with a panic attack a moment ago, he tenderly quavered, "So… What did they say?"

"That they didn't understand," N snickered. Taking a deep breath, he added, "I tried to explain a few times, but they still didn't get it. Like the entirely uncreative person I am, I dubbed them Quiet, Whisper, and Loud…" There was a short pause. "I never called them that around anyone else, though, and quit calling them it altogether once I was older… By the time I was finally allowed out of… there… I'm sad to admit that I saw them as… Ghetsis wanted me to… Tools to serve Team Plasma's purpose. I didn't mean to view them that way…" He shook his head vigorously and then pulled himself farther onto the bed, daring to move a hand forward to clasp it over one of Hil's against the mattress, making Hil freeze and his breath hitch. "I am not upset with you for feeling bad about what happened to Whisper, Hil…"

Genuinely smiling back at him, Hil felt emotion rising in his throat some. Biting his lower lip to try to fight it off, he nodded. "Thank you…" Even though that's not it… Hil wanted to banish that thought so badly. He didn't want to get into the messiness of how he felt frustrated about failing to communicate with Reshiram. This bittersweet, reminiscent discussion was something he wanted to cling to, maybe steer the conversation into another exchange of their radically different childhoods, laughing and grinning about the good times (however few there were) and wincing and comforting one another over the bad times. Yet, his mouth felt like lead as N's earlier words rang in his head, reminding him he wasn't being honest.

"You can tell me stuff, too, you know," N whispered, as if guessing what Hil was thinking. He squeezed Hil's hand slightly. Face still a little red, Hil slowly turned his hand over and clasped his (admittedly somewhat sweaty) palm to N's hand, intertwining his fingers with N's. "I know you have, ah… helped and saved me often in the past," N started gingerly, "but Hil, when I apologized for you having to save me again… I think I perhaps conveyed myself poorly."

Blinking confusedly, Hil cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean…?" Although Hil could tell this was important for N to talk about, he had to admit, remembering the way N had apologized to him after he had dealt with Ghetsis back in the Giant Chasm was heartbreaking. It had pained him so deeply, for N to be there, bleeding out, and still apologizing to him… Just the memory made Hil's jaw clench and it took everything in his power to keep from tightening his grasp on N's hand. Nobody had a way of bringing out that furious, almost feverish desire to protect in him quite like N could.

"I was not feeling bad for myself," N explained. "At least, I don't think so… I was sorry because I had not been as strong as I could be… You have such a way of catching me in my moments of weakness," he snorted, "that I think you have mistaken me for someone far weaker and frailer."

"What? No, not at all," Hil defended himself a little too quickly, and a little too squeakily. N's smile vanished and he gave Hil such a pointed look with that single, gray eye. Shrinking under just that look, Hil squirmed, laughing halfheartedly. "Right… sorry, go on…"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," N sighed. "Hil, I'm not going to shatter to pieces if you talk to me more. I don't need safeguarding. I'm not a prince locked in a tower anymore. Ghetsis is gone. We lead Unova together. First and foremost, many people rely on us now… And I fear what may become of those that rely on you… or care for you"—N flicked his gaze to the side—"if you refuse to talk to me… or, er, anyone, about what is upsetting or bothering you…"

For as reserved as his words sounded and as subtle as his body language was, Hil caught on immediately to the way N was subversively admitting to caring about him, to worrying about him. In one swift moment, all Hil's anxiety was traded in for a rush of warmth that made the almost goofy, happy smile on his face grow even broader. Not to mention, the very sentiment in his words might have made him melt all on their own. Together. They led Unova together… and Hil had apparently made N feel excluded and worried by keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself. As quickly as the gust of warmth had come, it started to ebb, and he gnawed his lower lip again, dropping his gaze to the bed. "I'm sorry, N," Hil murmured, "I never meant to treat you like… like…" Oh, Arceus, how could he have explained? It was N. Hil didn't know what it was about him, but the idea of hurting N or of him being in harm's way made him want to coil around the other like a protective mother Beartic. He had seen N undergo so much, and he had so nearly lost him once before… it was so hard not to inadvertently treat him like a glass statue… Emotion choking his words somewhat, Hil whimpered, "I just… I want to keep you safe…"

"I am safe," N said simply, tugging on Hil's hand a little. "I am safe with you. You have made it clear time and time again that I am safe with you, that you do not intend to harm me… but, Hil?"

"Yeah…?"

Almost reluctantly, N said, "I… want to help you, too. I want to keep you safe, too… And you bottling yourself up and never really coming to me with stuff to talk about… I dislike that more than if you would simply talk about it… Even if some of it maybe is uncomfortable…" Breaking the tension with a slight laugh, he raised his visible brow at Hil. "Am I making any sense…?"

He was making perfect sense, and as guilty as Hil felt for making N feel like he was being coddled, his heart was swimming on fuzzy feelings that honestly made it difficult to consider the guilt or anxiety anymore. Again, he recognized the situation as a potentially romantic one, and yet again, calling it that would have felt insulting. Perhaps it was the fact that N still didn't have a fantastic grasp of what a romantic relationship was, but the way N described the way he wanted to care for Hil just sounded so wholesome and… Hil cherished it so much. It left him feeling so full in a way only N could seem to do. "Yeah, you are," Hil finally replied, grinning almost giddily. "You're right… You're right. It's not fair to you for me to hold back and decide for you what you can't or… can't handle. We're in this together." Casting a look at his bag across the room, hanging on the back of the hotel's door, Hil gestured toward it with a nod. "So, here goes… I wanted to talk to Reshiram so I could ask her why she… killed, that member of the Shadow Triad… I mean, Whisper." N might have quit calling them by their names a long time ago, but Hil suddenly found the idea of continually referring to the deceased brother namelessly unpleasant. "But I haven't been able to talk to her at all since the Giant Chasm… She hasn't been upset with me, or anything, I don't think, just…"

"Oh, is that what you want to do?" N perked up, a delighted smile spreading across his face. "I, um… I didn't know you were actually interested in honing that skill further…"

Practically gaping at him, Hil incredulously chuckled and asked, "Why on Earth wouldn't I want to learn to do that more? Hello, I'd get to talk to a legendary pokémon! Not to mention how much easier it'd be to tell Noodle to get off my shoulders whenever his brain scrambles and he thinks he's a Servine again…"

Giggling back at him, N's cheeks were dusted a rosy pink in embarrassment, something that hit Hil with another pang of warmth, only this time it hit more like a truck and less like a gentle wave. Almost like a yearning ache. "I just… I had it beaten into my head for so long that talking to pokémon was taboo and strange and humans hated it…" N still sounded amused, but there was quite the raw undertone to it. "I suppose I just figured you weren't interested since you never talked about it ever again… and I didn't want to bring it up in case it… did upset you…"

"Are you kidding?" Hil abruptly flopped down closer to N, never letting go of his hand as he did (in fact, he brought it against his chest as he sat down again, and it took everything in his power to exercise the self-control it took not to kiss it, as even he recognized in his giddy state that might have been pressing his luck). "Your whole thing with talking to pokémon is awesome. That is so nothing to be ashamed of!" Smirking a little, he taunted, "I've even heard Nathan complain about how he wishes he could do that, and you know Mister Man doesn't show envy." Rolling his eyes, Hil mocked Nathan's gruffer, throatier voice and said, "Since, y'know, he's a tough guy and all that. He 'doesn't need any help!'"

Covering his mouth, Hil could tell N was trying not to laugh, but an ugly snort betrayed his amusement and his face flushed an even darker red. Gathering his composure, he straightened his back out and, with a hint of pride that pleased Hil to hear, mused, "Well… It's a little late right now, but I would be happy to try to help you and Reshiram tomorrow… I suppose I could just talk to her for you, though, and that would also get you your answer."

Hil didn't even ponder that. "No… I wanna know how…" A little teasingly, he added, "I wanna see the world through your eyes, man. Er… Eye?"

"That should not be funny, and yet I feel like laughing," N almost pouted.

"I think that kind of humor is 'irony,'" Hil laughed.

"Mm. I think you do that one a lot."

Shrugging, Hil smirked, "Yeah, that, bad puns, and just all around terrible jokes are kind of my thing. Hey, maybe soon you'll understand why Cheren groans all the time at me!" Pausing to blink, Hil tossed his head back. "Oh, no. Soon you'll understand why Cheren groans all the time at me, and then you'll start doing it, too, 'cause you'll start to get why all my jokes are so bad."

There was a long silence before N, nervously despite the amusement lacing his voice, tried to coyly say, "W-well… maybe bad jokes are funny in their own way."

Oh, my Arceus, I'm gonna die. Is he trying to flirt? Yep, I'm just gonna die now, right here. His heart felt like it was going to explode. Deciding he had to end this before that actually happened or he somehow ruined this moment, Hil awkwardly let go of N's hand and hopped up off the bed. "Haha, you think so, huh? Well… we should probably get some sleep before tomorrow, at any rate," Hil yawned.

"This is your bed," N blankly said. "Why did you get up?"

"That," Hil pointed at him, "is a very good question." He sat back down, but N didn't get up. After a few uncertain seconds like that, Hil not-so-smoothly questioned, "So… ah… you gonna…?"

"Um…" N clasped his hands together over his lap and stared squarely down at them. "May I stay in your bed for… now…? I know it is a little small…" He swallowed hard. "But I want to… ah… be with you in case you have more nightmares like… that… It looked painful when you hit the floor like that…"

He almost couldn't believe his ears and felt a little silly for the way he beamed stupidly back at N as soon as he said that. "I'd love that, N…" He felt so warm all over, tingly and beyond joyful, to the point his hands felt jittery. He quickly realized they were jittery as he and N worked to fix the bedspread, and then took a few minutes to try to find a comfortable position for each of them in the bed.

Ultimately, Hil found himself pressed against N, with the other winding an arm around him protectively (to 'keep him from falling off the bed again,' in N's words), both sharing the same pillow. Despite how comfortable and lovely it all was, though, it ironically made the idea of falling asleep laughable. Hil had nervously questioned N at first if he was sure about it, only to have the other reassure him he was fine, and then he had even admitted it was a lot nicer than he had been expecting. Deciding to just take it as the compliment it was meant to be at face value, Hil's pride had swelled and he had nestled into the other's hold.

It was a long, long time before he fell asleep and boy, was he exhausted the next day as N hauled him out to the forest to assist him in learning to speak to Reshiram, but it had been more than worth it. He had no idea what to consider himself as N as, but honestly? That was fine by him. They were whatever they were, undefined and unrestricted by labels, and happy that way, learning slowly but surely about one another at their own slow, comfortable pace.

He'd have had it no other way.

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HEY SO I HAVE AMAZING NEWS!

My school decided to have mercy and ISN'T charging me an arm and a leg despite me not actually living on campus! So while I'm still leaving the P*treon up as a tip jar/for commissions, I don't feel like I have to lump my fanfiction work under the "gets posted to P*treon 2 weeks before everywhere else" rule!

I am so happy! I'll admit that I was really sad about the P*treon deal because I HATE waiting to post my works here to you guys. I get so much fun out of sharing my stuff or even just seeing all my work together under my name under my account. I'll be updating my Tumblr and the actual P*treon page to reflect this change soon. So no 2 weeks of going dark for me bb woo~!

In other news, if this oneshot is chock full of errors, that's because I basically wrote it in a fluff-brained fervor. I'm very gay and so is Hil and - yknow what, sue me, lol.

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fireteam-dauntless · 4 years

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A Tale of Two Guardians XXVIII

Part I of the Destined Series Chapter 28: Last Rites masterlist

word count : 3.8k tag list : @mail-me-a-snail @basically-nacl @shins-wife @speed-boop

I armored up the next morning, just after sunrise, and didn’t even make myself a cup of coffee. I only slept for a few hours, but I had been tossing and turning all night. Cayde and Amanda had worked all night to modify the stealth tech, and it was dropped off at Maverick’s earlier this morning. We were all meeting there to install the tech, then going to orbit to head towards the moon.

I left my apartment and walked to Maverick’s. The air was chilly and a thin mist hung in the air after last night’s storm. It almost suited the situation. I arrived at Maverick’s apartment and knocked on the door, and Skinner answered it almost instantly.

“What took you so long?” He said in a teasing tone, but stepped aside to let me in.

I held up a finger to silence him as I stepped inside. “Shh… I skipped out on coffee to get here as soon as possible.”

“And that is why I have a pot on for you.” Maverick was hunched over, doing some final adjustments on his boots. I smiled softly and walked over to him, gently squeezed his shoulder, and kissed his head

“Thank you, you are a lifesaver.”

“Genny, send your Ghost over here,” Skinner called from the living room. After I poured a cup of black coffee, I held out my hand, my Ghost appeared and flew over to Skinner. He gently grabbed her out of the air, and held out his own Ghost. He was reading a code that his Ghost was displaying, and started to input it into my Ghost’s interface.

“Is that the stealth code?” I asked and took a sip of coffee.

“Yup. Maverick and I took a while to figure out how to get them to work with our Ghosts, but it’s easier for me to install it on yours since I know how to this time.”

“Thanks, Skinner.”

Silence fell over the room. I could feel the tension rising in the room and I shifted uncomfortably. I could tell neither of them wanted to go back there.

“Alright, there you go.” Skinner sent my Ghost back over to me.

“Do the codes work?”

“Yup,” Maverick said. “We tried them out earlier. We should be all set to go back to the Hellmouth.”

I looked between the two of them, and they both looked equally uneasy. “Then let’s go,” I said firmly and finished off my cup of coffee. I knew I wasn’t the Fireteam leader, but someone had to get these two out of the apartment and onto our ships. “The sooner, the better.”

—————

The three of us stood at the beginning of the Abyss, Maverick and Skinner were standing side by side ahead of me, their hands holding fast onto their weapons even though there wasn’t an enemy in sight. We approached a platform where two Wizards were chanting, but before I could even react, the Hunter and Titan unloaded their guns and the Wizards collapsed into piles of ash. I looked at them warily, but gave them a small nod regardless. I noticed something in one of the piles, the glint of something lost ages before. I approached the pile and brushed the ashes aside, revealing a dead Ghost. My eyes widened.

“Guys, what do you make of this?” I called out to them. No response. “Skinner? Maverick?” I looked up and saw that they were standing on the glowing plate, waiting for the bridge across the Abyss to form so that we could enter the Keyhole into Crota’s throne world. “Hey! Guys!”

“Please, Storm, let’s just get Crota’s essence and leave. I don’t want to come back here ever again,” Maverick said with a sigh. He didn’t even turn to look at me. He was in total focus mode on this mission.

“Yeah that would be great.” Skinner added.

I sighed in defeat, but tucked the Ghost into my robes for safe keeping. The Vanguard could identify whose Ghost it was if Maverick and Skinner didn’t know. I joined them on the plate. “Okay,” I said quietly. “I’ll just show you back at the ship.”

“Okay,” Cayde began over the Vanguard channel. “You’ve got the crystal. All you have to do now is fill it with Crota’s soul. The Hive are in the middle of some kind of funeral, so-”

“Not a funeral, a death ceremony,” Eris cut in. “Crota’s essence is being prepared for the next realm.”

“Right,” Cayde resumed. “So when you get to this ‘funeral’, Oryx will be watching close. Use Rasputian’s cloak to slip past the Taken. Find Crota’s soul, wrap it up, and get out.”

The bridge fully formed and solidified. I followed behind Maverick and Skinner as they began to cross. I stayed close to them with a firm grip on my hand cannon.

“Where exactly are we headed?” I asked, more toward Eris than my fireteam.

“When the Deathsingers begin their song, you’ll know we are close.”

“What she’s trying to say is that she doesn’t know. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my ear to the ground.” Cayde added.

“And I will try not to step on his head.” Eris commented.

I chuckled a bit at her comment, but Skinner and Mav didn’t even react.

Halfway toward the Keyhole, Cayde started again, “Stay out of sight, fireteam. We need you guys back alive. Ghosts, you have the frequency?”

“And your… modifications. We’ll be ready.” Mav’s Ghost said with doubt. None of us could blame him. Cayde’s modifications tend to have… malfunctions.

“Then move quietly and unseen… like death,” Eris said.

My Ghost sighed. I took one glance behind us just before we passed through the Keyhole, and saw the bridge disappear. Well, I thought. There’s no turning back now. We entered the Keyhole and we were dropped into one of the two towers before the Bridge.

“Let’s hope this works,” Mav said. “Activate cloaking, Ghosts.”

After a small popping sound, we were gone from sight.

“I can’t see you!” I exclaimed quietly. “Can you guys see me?!”

“Well that’s good then, it’s actually working this time,” Skinner said with relief.

Cayde spoke over comms with a warning. “Keep your distance. They can’t see you, but they can still smell you. Eris can replace her ship—we can’t replace you guys.”

“I think he’s talking about you Metal Man,” Skinner snickered.

“Shut it Skinner, not now,” Maverick growled coldly.

“Cross the chasm. Enter their world.” Eris said.

I walked over to the edge of the platform and knelt down. Using my sniper’s scope, I gazed down and scanned the area. “Look down there,” I whispered to them. Maverick came over to me and I handed him my scope. “A tomb husk. I bet you that’s how we’re getting across this chasm.”

“I like it,” he said and handed the scope back to me. “Alright, Skinner, you get the husk, Storm and I will wait by the Bridge.”

“Oh I see how it is…” Skinner began to complain, but Maverick cut him off.

“No, I’m not sending you over there because I can!” He said in an angry whisper. “I’m sending you over there because you're better at stealth then us! Now please go get the husk.”

“Jeez! Fine, I’ll get it, asshole,” Skinner grumbled before we headed out to the Bridge.

Maverick and I took cover behind a lamp near the bridge, out of sight and scent from the Hive Knights that were patrolling the area. “What’s with the blue and red Knights?”

“Well the Red Knights are Swordbearers when we killed them the first time they dropped their Sword. And the Blue Knights are the Gatekeepers and they can only be killed by the Ascendant Sword the Swordbearers carry.”

“Oh and the Gatekeepers…?”

“They're the ones that kill Enigma and Paradox,” he hissed. I could tell he was holding back his anger, and I gently placed a hand on his arm, squeezed genty, and let go.

Skinner ran up to us, holding the husk. “Here Mav, I got the husk.”

“Good now put it on that altar.”

He walked up to the altar and put it and as it faded the Bridge began to form. We crossed the bridge, snuck around the Gatekeepers that were pretty much guarding the doors, and ran over to the giant doors that led to Crota’s throne.

“Welp, time to open these loud ass doors.” Skinner groaned.

“Oh, come on, they couldn’t be that loud,” I murmured softly.

“And that’s where you're wrong,” Maverick said. “Skinner, if you please.”

He touched the door and it very loudly began to open.

“You think they heard that?” I asked.

We began down the hall toward Crota’s Throne and the Deathsingers began their song. “The Deathsingers!” Eris exclaimed over the Vanguard channel. “They are preparing Crota’s soul for the next realm. Follow their cry. It was just as this when I walked in the dark. Their wretched songs in the wind as Eriana fell…”

We dropped down the hole and Maverick held up his hand to stop Skinner and I as Eris began speaking again. “Reach Crota’s tomb and take what remains of his soul.”

“There are a lot of tombs here—how do we find Crota’s?” Maverick asked.

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

Maverick looked around the room, then visibly stiffened and froze in his place when he turned to us. He was looking right through us. Skinner and I turned around, and I felt my heart sink. There were the bodies of two Hunters against the back wall, one was completely severed in half, and the other had a Hive Cleaver pierced through his chest. Empty bullet casings and spent magazines littered the ground all around us. Between the two of them were the remains of two Ghost shells, shattered into pieces, but their cores were recognizable and intact. Maverick and Skinner both walked towards them, and I felt myself frozen in my place. It was Paradox and Enigma, if I could guess it was anyone. Maverick fell to his knees and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. I walked closer slowly, but I gave him a bit of space at the same time. He did the same for me when my team was found. When we found them on Phobos.

“I failed you two.” Maverick started quietly. There was tense pain in his voice. “I promised you guys that I would always be by your side. No matter what. And I failed at that. I haven’t been able to forgive myself for this and I still can’t.” His shoulders were trembling. Skinner and I knelt on either side of him.

“Come on Mav.” Skinner began. “We’ve got to get this mission done.”

“Look at the bright side, mon chérie, at least you have us.” I said, trying to make light of the situation. He still had people to fight for. At the time that I lost my team, I had lost everything. It was hard for me because there was no one left. But it must be even harder for him because he lost them when he couldn’t make the sacrifice that Gilly made for me.

“Storm you know how this feels.” He snapped in an almost statically cold voice. I winced at the harshness of his tone. “Your leader got you out. He got you out because you have so much more to do. Fireteam leaders are supposed to make sure their team makes it back alive. Even if they don’t. I should be here with the Sword through this STUPID ROBOTIC FRAME!” He almost began yelling, he only lowered his voice when he realized he could have alerted the Hive. “If you didn’t stop me, Skinner, I would be here with them, and only you would have made it out.”

He collapsed in the pool of Hive gunk in defeat, his head in his hands. His body was trembling. I felt so bad for him. He couldn’t express emotions, he couldn’t grieve like I could.

Skinner placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tightly. “No, I wouldn’t Maverick. If you stayed with them and the events played out the same, I would’ve been with Vision and would’ve died in this Pit. They told you to stay with us because they knew if you stayed with them, we would have all died instead of just half of us.”

“He’s right Maverick,” I reassured. “But now we need you, you’re still our leader and we can do this. Together.”

Shortly after the pep talk Skinner and I gave him, Maverick regained his composure, collected the cores of Paradox’s and Enigma’s Ghosts, and stood. He walked toward the hall, scanned the area, and pointed at the floating coffin ahead. “There, that’s Crota’s tomb, let's get the essence.”

Skinner and I nodded and we started to follow Maverick. We avoided the Hive walking around so we didn’t get smelled out. We walked up to the tomb silently and Maverick whispered over the Vanguard channel, “We found it, Eris, what’s next?”

“Let the crystal drink deep from Crota’s essence.”

Maverick was holding the crystal, and looked at Skinner and I from over his shoulder. He motioned for us to wait where we were, and walked up to the coffin. My heart squeezed and I took a step towards him, but Skinner held my arm and shook his head. He was right under the Deathsingers.

“It’s working!” Maverick gasped quietly. “How much do we need to pass as an Ascendent Hive?”

“Only a taste, but steal all you can.”

Skinner and I were getting antsy just from standing there, but all of a sudden Maverick’s cloaking failed and he appeared underneath the coffin. “Maverick!” I shouted, and Skinner immediately covered my mouth after. He and I were still cloaked.

“Somethings wrong! I’m exposed!” Maverick shouted as the Deathsingers began to scream.

“Lock for transmat! Get out of there!” Cayde yelled over the channel.

“We must have Crota’s soul!” Eris yelled.

“You’ve got enough!! Lock for transmat, Ghosts!”

“I can’t!” Maverick’s Ghost exclaimed. “Everything is corrupted!!”

My heart was pounding and I could feel the blood draining from my face. We were stuck here. It was like walking into a nightmare as Hive began to run out of the doorways behind us.

“I can’t connect… Stay alive! We’ve got to make it back!” Maverick's Ghost said with a panic filled voice.

“Bring down the gun!” Maverick shouted to his Ghost

“Now?!”

“Yes NOW!” A gun appeared in his hands in place of his Auto Rifle. Then he turned to us. “Skinner, cover us!” Skinner nodded, took out his knife, and began taking down the Thrall that were running towards us one by one, under the cloak of darkness. He looked like a shadow as the Thrall fell to the ground.

“Storm, Thunderstrike me with everything you got!”

“What?! Why?” I looked at Maverick in disbelief. Now of all times, he wanted me to hit him with everything I had?

“Just trust me! Do it!”

I nodded and swallowed hard, drew all the energy I could from my entire body, and thrust my hand forward. However, instead of a normal thunderstrike, all of the Arc energy in my body shot forward towards him in a concentrated beam. I held my wrist steady with my opposite hand and I felt my feet lift off the ground a couple of inches. I don’t know what came over me, but when the beam faded I collapsed to one knee, breathing heavy. I was lucky that my cloaking didn’t fail.

Skinner rushed over to me and helped me stand up. “Storm, are you alright?” He asked me, his voice filled with worry and awe.

I nodded my head and held up my hand. “I’m fine,” I said quietly. I looked over at Maverick, it was him that I was worried about. The gun he was holding emitted green flames out its sides. Maverick looked over at us.

“Now can you two connect to your transmat?”

We checked with our Ghosts and saw that the link was able to pull us out of the area. The two of us nodded in sync.

“Good now get out of here while you can!”

“NO!” I shouted without hesitation. “We’re not leaving you here alone!

“We’re a team, Maverick!” Skinner added, “We stick together!”

“I’m not asking, I’m giving you an order.” He snapped as Taken blights began to materialize. He said something to his Ghost quietly, then turned his back to us.

All of a sudden I could feel myself starting to transmat out of there. “NO!” Skinner and I both shouted at once, just before we were teleported out of the Throne Room and back to the towers just before the bridge to get into Crota’s Throne, and the bridge had deconstructed. We couldn’t get back to him. Our cloaking failed shortly after we had landed.

I collapsed to the ground and felt dread gripping my entire body. I pulled my knees to my chest and started sobbing. Why would he send us away when we could help him? Why would he try to do it alone?

“No…. no… no…” I held onto my helmet and pulled my limbs in close to my body.

“Storm!” It was Skinner. “Thank the Traveler you’re okay.”

I looked up at him. My entire body was shaking. “He sent us away,” I cried. “Why? Why would he do that? He’s going to die in there!”

The Hunter was quiet as he knelt down beside me. “C’mon, Storm. Maverick’s tough. He’s going to make it out.” He looked away from me, towards the door to Crota’s Throne. “He… He has to.”

“But what if he doesn’t!” I shouted through my tears. “What if his Ghost can’t get a lock on for transmat and he can’t get out!”

He stared at me for a moment, then sighed. “I don’t know, Storm,” he admitted. “We just have to have a little hope.”

“There’s nothing left,” I whispered. “I lost hope when I lost my fireteam. You guys… you guys gave me hope again. Maverick… oh, mon chérie, mon amour, je ne peux pas te perdre, pa comme ça… pas comme ça… reviens-moi s'il te plaît….”*

Skinner and I sat quietly. I couldn’t stop crying, not even when my cries turned into strangled, stifled sobs and hiccups. Skinner was trying to keep me calm and kept rubbing circles on my back. I don’t know how long we sat there in silence. Both of our Ghosts were insisting that we should go back to our ships, but we couldn’t find it in us to leave. This entire time, we had no connection to the Vanguard Channel, like the signal was stuck in that room with Maverick. We couldn’t even tell them that we had gotten out alive, or that Maverick was still stuck in there.

All of a sudden, we heard the whurr of a transmat, and both of our heads shot up. Maverick was on the ground, starting to sit up. His armor was beaten and splattered with Hive blood.

“You… You pulled me out!” He said in shock. He slowly stood to his feet

“One of Toland’s tricks…” Eris responded with panicked relief as Skinner and I joined back into the Vanguard Channel. “There is nothing I fear more than the Dark, but I will not lose another Guardian. You’ve imprisoned the last whisper of Crota’s soul. It is left to you now. Find Oryx on the Dreadnaught. Destroy him.”

“You asshole!” Skinner yelled and jumped up from my side. His hands were clenched into fists. But instead of throwing a knife into his face, like he normally would, he embraced the Titan tightly.

“I thought I lost you. We thought we lost you.” He said before taking him just out of my earshot. I looked away from them. Even though he was out alive and in one piece, I was still crying. My heart still hurt. I was upset that he sent us away, angry that he made us leave him; I couldn't bear to look at him, and yet, I was flooded with relief that he was alive.

Maverick walked over and sat next to me. “Storm, I’m…” He started, but before he could continue, I hugged him tightly. He almost didn’t know what to do for a moment, but he wrapped his arms around me regardless.

“I thought I lost you, mon chérie,” I whimpered. “Why? Why did you send us away before we could help?” I felt betrayed all over again. How could I put my trust in someone who wasn’t able to trust me?

“I… I wasn’t going to get three people killed. So I wasn’t going to risk it, but I now realize that was foolish,” he admitted.

“Yeah, no shit it was foolish,” Skinner scoffed.

“And why did you have me Thunderstrike you?” I asked as we pulled out of our hug. “Or… whatever I managed to do. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Well not exactly,” he said as he pulled out the weapon. “It needed a supercharge and only you, a Stormcaller, could charge it. I knew I wouldn’t survive without it.”

Dawn appeared at my shoulder, scanned the gun, and immediately started to yell at him. Even I looked at her in shock. “Do you know what you’ve created, Maverick!?”

“What are you talking about?” Maverick asked with a shake of his head.

“Don’t play stupid with me! You knew what her Light would do to the gun!”

“Mon chérie,” I said and got Maverick’s attention away from my Ghost. “What is that weapon?”

Before he could answer, my Ghost cut him off. “It’s a Weapon of Sorrow! This one feeds on the owner’s anger and aggression!”

“And that’s how I survived!” He snapped at my Ghost. “It’s the only reason I’m alive!”

“But can you control the weapon?” Dawn was in his face, accusing him of some crime I didn’t know existed. “Or will it control you?!” I reached out and gently grabbed her shell, pulling her back away from him.

“Dawn, calm down,” I said softly. I paused a moment and looked at Maverick. “Can you? Can you control it?”

“I’ll control it. I’ve told my own Ghost the same thing. And don’t bother telling the Vanguard, they know. Now can we all please go home? I really don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Yeah I’m with you Mav.” Skinner said.

“Me too.” I agreed. “I… I want to go home.”

---translations---

* “My sweetheart, my love, I can’t lose you... no like this... not like this... come back to me, please...”

#destiny #destiny fic #destiny fanfiction #a tale of two guardians fic #destiny the taken king #fireteam dauntless #my guardian oc #star's writing #destined pt 1

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theadorablespderman · 5 years

Text

Hair: Chapter 6

Stars Pt. 3

Peter/Michelle

Rated M for language

Wow, this has been crazy guys! I would not have continued this story without your love and support. This chapter is dedicated to everyone who pushed me to continue a story I lost track of. I really can’t express how grateful I am to everyone who has read Hair....So without further ado, I’d like to thank my amazing beta @you-guys--are-losers who has been with me from the start and is always my amazing friend.

Now I want to present, after a long hiatus, the next chapter of Hair!

________________________________________________________________

Michelle flipped over another page of her book. The slight whispering of the page was the only sound in her room besides a small electric fan beside her. She’d managed to get halfway through Things Fall Apart in a few short hours. The intricacies of African culture pulled her into the pages early on. Sitting on crumpled white sheets atop her bed, head resting against the coarse brick exterior wall in her room, Michelle flipped over another page. With eyes flying across the pages, she thought about how much of African culture has been destroyed. The title indeed fit the book; things do fall apart, often, it would seem.

Dog-earing her page, Michelle took a sip of her long-forgotten tea. It was cold and bitter on her lips. Abandoned when she sunk into her book. Michelle made a note to make a new cup. When she picked the book up again, her eyes started tracing back over the pages until her phone vibrated against her leg. Placing her book down again, she used her good hand to pick up her phone. The message was from Peter.

Peter Parker (8:57 pm): can i come over?

Embers ran down her throat, stoking the small fire in her chest. The fire pulsed, each beat larger than the next. It echoed in the battered knuckles of her fist.

Michelle left Peter standing in the abandoned physics classroom this morning. Unable to release any words or explanations, she merely retreated to safety. Safety she found with a book in her hands, tucked away in her bedroom, and wishing she could disguise herself in a flash of sarcastic remarks and cool stares.

Michelle pored over the text a few times, her mind spinning. She didn’t know how to reply. If he just wanted to assault her with more questions, she’d rather sink further into her book.

You (9:01 pm): if you’re looking for your hobbit box set i didn’t take it because the movies sucked and the book was better.

Peter Parker (9:02 pm): what? no…i haven’t even mentioned that to you how the hell do you know about it

You (9:02 pm): I’m omniscient, Parker, I know all.

Peter Parker (9:03 pm): then youd know why i’m coming over. which would suck since it’s a surprise…

She stared down at her phone. Michelle wasn’t sure what Peter’s angle was. After a few minutes without her reply, another message popped up.

Peter Parker (9:06 pm): soooo…can I come over? promise not to annoy you

Grunting, Michelle tucked her legs closer to her body. Her interest had piqued. Besides, she thought, maybe it would be a good opportunity to shrink the gap expanding between them. Glancing out her window at the inky sky, Michelle decided on a reply that was neither an invitation nor denial.

You (9:08 pm): You annoy me regardless.

Peter Parker (9:08 pm): i’ll take that as a yes?

You (9:09 pm): Shut up and just come over, loser.

Peter Parker (9:10 pm): thank you! youre not gonna regret it!

Peter Parker (9:10 pm): be right there :)

Michelle glared down at her screen blaring harsh blue light back at her. She had no idea what Peter was planning, and she was frankly starting to wonder if she wanted to.

It would take him a few minutes to get to her house if May drove him, but he could easily walk, which could take as long as fifteen minutes. Michelle flopped back onto her bed, resisting the urge to go fix her hair, or change out of her pajamas. Peter had seen her at her literal worst, and if he hadn’t been chased away by now, a few snarls in her hair and some tattered pajamas wouldn’t make a difference. Besides, she wouldn’t try to make herself look nice for Ned, so why should she do it for Peter?

The thought of prom popped into her head. She clucked at the thought, telling herself that was different. If she wanted to get made up for prom she damn well could, because she wanted to. But right now, she didn’t give a shit. Maybe a little less than a shit, but still it wasn’t enough to make her do more than smooth out her pajama pants and throw on a hoodie to hide her braless chest.

Michelle was running her fingers through some of her worst snarls of hair when she heard a tap on the window, right beside her ear.

She wasn’t one to frighten easily, but she catapulted away from the window, her nerves buzzing.

Michelle’s apartment was on the fifth floor of her building, so getting random taps on her window was abnormal. A bird once flew into her window, but that had the sound of a sickening smack, very different from light tapping. She attempted to calm the rushing pressure pounding in her skull while she tried to see what had caused the noise. Her reading lamp cast only crude shadows outside. Whatever tapped her window was hanging upside down on the opposite side of the glass. It was too massive to be a bird.

Giant eyes glinted in the light of her lamp. The body looked blood-red. “What the fu—” More tapping. It pressed its face against the glass and that was when Michelle realized what it was. Or who.

It was none-other than Spider-Man. She had a hunch why Queen's resident superhero was currently tapping on her window. It was a suspicion she had for a while, but all she ever had in support was circumstantial evidence.

Spider-Man tapped again. It sounded like a finger tapping on a terrarium. Unsettling. Flipping upright, Spider-Man looked at her properly. “Is there a reason why you're tapping on my window?” She spoke loud enough that it would carry through the glass. Standing, she placed distance between herself and the window.

“MJ, it’s me.”

She stopped on her toes, tilting towards the muffled words a fraction. Her balance tipped, forcing her to take a step forward. Michelle’s knee knocked against her mattress. It buckled and gave way until she was back on her sheets.

The eyes on Spider-Man’s suit twitched. Something floated down her spine, exploding into a barrage of light and fire that took hold of her like flames on flash paper. Michelle felt it take over her the same way the reveal at the end of a book took hold of her system. It clicked and everything crashed into place. “Holy shit. I knew it!” Michelle yanked open her window, letting the masked hero slide into her room. His arm brushed against her as he smoothly bounced from her bed onto the floor. He pulled the mask from his head.

Under the mask, Peter Parker emerged. His hair stuck about at odd angles and his cheeks were flushed the slightest color of pink. Michelle hated to think it, but he looked damn good in that skin-tight suit. She sighed, looking away from him to take another chilling sip of her tea.

Trying to seem unaffected by his silent stare was harder than usual.

“So, you’re the one that’s been swinging around in pajamas.” Another sip. It was uncomfortable going down, cooling the flames licking at her ribs. Michelle focused on the smooth ceramic of the mug in her hands instead. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Peter fiddled with the mask in his hands, tugging the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. “I, uh—I’ve been thinking about telling you for a long time, but I just couldn’t bring myself to. I don’t really know why.” Peter looked down. “But now—”

The air between them swelled, wrapping suffocating hands around Michelle’s neck. Why would he be telling her this now? There was a devastating realization that maybe Peter thought this would get her to open up. Now that he’s shown her his cards, he would want to see hers.

A tear was breaking through her, right through her center. She was stuck on the growing crack, wondering where she might fall.

Michelle could plummet back to familiar ground. Where she buried so many emotions it was a graveyard for every broken piece of her. She could always tip to the other side. Into woods where she could pave pathways that would deliver the words writhing inside her out of the trees, and into the light. And, there was always the third option. If she fought to keep the earth inside her from splitting open, she could collapse into a chasm she had no way of escaping.

The earth was breaking, crumbling, and she still didn’t know which way to fall.

“Why are you telling me about this now?” It was a standoff. The defining moment. She could see so much swirling in Peter’s eyes. The flutter of his lashes showed a similar rift dividing him.

Peter leveled his eyes with hers. The intensity of his gaze swallowed her, sent crackling flames slithering over her arms, up her legs. Everywhere. His gaze was hollowing her out in the best way possible. He stepped toward her, one-foot fall after another. The fire was eating away all her oxygen. Michelle couldn’t possibly breathe. The air had been licked dry of her lungs. He was right there. They were stars orbiting each other once again. As if that space between them had shrunk in only the span of a breath. “I want to show you something.”

“You already showed me something. I’d say that whole Spider-Man reveal was a pretty big something.” Michelle crossed her arms, putting distance between them, until she realized Peter wasn’t even in arms reach. He felt so much closer.

Peter chuckled. Tension diffused from his shoulders and Michelle pictured it floating away like smoke. “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t give you more of a warning. It looked like I freaked you out.”

Michelle snatched the mask from his hands, hiding her embarrassment. “What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t freak out.” She held his mask up to the light. The stitching was incredible, and its milky eyes looked like camera lenses. Michelle flipped it over to peer inside. It looked like a regular mask. What she really wanted to know was how the eyes moved—and if there was a screen or onboard dash—how it was powered. She was just about to slip her head inside when Peter lifted it from her grip.

“You kinda freaked out.” He was smiling like an idiot and Michelle snatched the mask back. She did nothing but hold it, but she felt like it proved something.

“I didn’t freak out, nerd.” She tossed the mask up in the air and caught it before Peter could take it back. Running her fingers across the glassy eyes, she remembered DC; when he’d raced up the Washington Monument. She remembered the odd urgency to his voice; how it was muffled through the fabric. News feeds flashed through her mind. She’d seen this mask millions of times, yet now it changed. Now looking at it, all she pictured was Peter with his boyish grin and understanding gaze.

When she looked up Peter’s eyes were scouring her face. She wasn’t sure what he was hoping to find written on the surface of her skin. His gaze lingered on her cheeks, the corners of her eyes, the place where her hair kissed her forehead. The way it penetrated her already fragile mask made her uncomfortable. “So,” Effectively cutting the spell between them, Michelle threw Peter’s mask back across the short distance between their bodies. He caught it with ease. “What do you want?”

“Well,” Peter said, his fingers tracing the same stitches Michelle traced moments before. She averted her eyes, somehow feeling the moment to intimate to share with him. “I got to thinking about today and—If I’m crossing a line here, you can tell me,”

“I always do, don’t I?” The banter helped keep Michelle focused on reality, instead of the soft edges of his eyes or the agile curves of his fingers.

Chuckling, Peter squeezed the mask in his hands. He twisted the fabric, ringing out non-existent water. “Yeah, you do.” He cleared his throat, expelling nerves. “But what I’m trying to get at I suppose is—well, uh. When you were talking earlier today and said you wanted to escape and stuff. It, um—it really got me thinking, basically, that maybe I could help. And you’d mentioned stargazing, and I got this idea. And I thought, maybe—I don’t know. I thought, maybe, if you wanted, I could help you escape for a few hours. No strings attached. I mean we don’t even have to talk… If you don’t want to.” After a cumbersome sentence, and the constant avoidance of any visual contact, he finally looked her in the eye once more.

She hated how endearing he was. She hated he’d managed to chip away her walls to the point the thought of keeping everything from him seemed impossible. She hated everything about him, but it was coursing through her veins in the most intoxicating, beautiful way. She wondered for a moment if that was what love felt like. God, how much she wanted to scream at his persistence, yet the warmth of his selflessness melted and filled her at the same time. Looking at him—eyes warm, a soothing balm to her fiery soul—she thought, this must be what love feels like…

“MJ,” Her name floated in his voice, into her ears. The beautiful raspy sound was alcohol to her bloodstream. It enveloped her in light-headed warmth. She couldn’t focus on anything but him. Peter deserved so much more than her. He’d found so much more than Michelle ever could be. He found it in Gwen.

Michelle blinked, breaking her of her trance.

Looking at Peter was like gazing into the sun. The threat of falling hopelessly into him terrified her. If she fell, she’d be eaten by a disastrous fire before she even reached the surface. She fell back against her bed, not trusting the slight wobble of her knees. “MJ, did you hear me?” Peter asked, advancing the smallest bit toward her.

It took every fiber of her resolve, but she forced her face back into the cool mask. “Yeah I heard you,” She leveled her gaze at him, exuding a sense of calm indifference. Still, there was a pounding in her chest that screamed for help. Michelle cleared her throat, smirking. “You want to take me to some mystery place to ‘cheer me up’.”

Peter’s mouth jumped open, ready to disagree, because since when did MJ need cheering up? But he snapped his jaw shut as soon as she smacked him with a hearty glare. A laugh brushed past his lips. “Well, yeah.” He paused. “But the thing is—well, you need it. Not to say you need me—I mean…God—I just thought maybe you’d be interested in it, and now I realize I’m being stupid. I’m really sorry. I just thought that maybe—”

His words cut off when Michelle wrapped her fingers around Peter’s wrist. She had to tell herself fire didn’t exist just so she could ignore the delightful burn under all five of her fingers. “I’m in.”

“Really, you’ll go?” His smile faltered. It was nothing more than a flicker in his eye. Michelle saw it as the nervous smile it was. “Do you—I mean—well. Is it okay if I go with you?” His gloved fingers twisted around his mask once more, twisting a knot into Michelle’s gut.

The answer came easier than it should. It came a welcome rain to the desert floor. “Yes." Shrugging, she feigned aloofness. "Besides I have no idea where it is.”

“Right.” Peter stepped up to her, his arms reaching out for her. Until they stopped. They deflated, awkward, to his sides. Words tumbled from his lips. Michelle barely managed to catch the sentence; he spoke so fast. “Um, is-is it okay to, um, pick you up? I mean, it’s just...” He paused. Raked a hand through his already mused hair. The action managed to tame most of the strands, laying them back away from his face. “Do you trust me? Because I don’t know how to explain it.” He put his hand out, an invitation. Peter’s gravity was yanking at Michelle’s stomach.

Making show, so not to focus on the heat at the tip of her ribs, Michelle slapped her hand into Peter’s palm. “What is this? Aladdin? God, you’re so dramatic.” She may have imagined the way his thumb, covered in leather and cotton, swept along the back of her hand. Michelle told herself that his index finger had no ulterior motives when it kissed the tendon on the inside of her wrist.

Peter smirked, but she caught it out of the corner of her eye before he was stepping up to her and pulling her towards the open window. “You know me. Always one for the dramatics.”

If she was thinking, a snarky retort would have slithered out past her lips. But that didn’t happen because Peter stood on the ledge of the window and dragged her closer. It knocked the breath out of her. Each step was a kick to the gut. Fear was a winding serpent, squeezing her throat closed. When Peter let her go to put on his mask, she found herself reeling a few steps back. The eyes of the mask narrowed in her direction and Peter’s head tilted to the side. “What’s wrong?”

“Is there a reason why we have to jump out of my window?”

Peter stepped back into the room, his foot making a mark on her sheets. Michelle shot him a look and he stepped back over the sill. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s either that or walk all the way downstairs, and then just climb back up another building.”

“And why are we climbing so much?” Michelle forced her eyes to harden, masking the anxiety writhing within her.

Peter’s head tilted from side to side, deciding if he should let her in on the little surprise. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Not with me.” Maybe he had that dorky, sweet smile beneath the mask. She would never know, but she liked to think he did. “I promise.” His voice came muffled through the mask, yet it pierced through Michelle. She swore his words rushed right through the space between her fifth and sixth ribs. They lodged somewhere in the flesh beyond. She could feel them, and if she gasped in just the right way, they pushed up against her heart.

This time she took his offered hand softer, gliding her fingers into his palm. For a moment, she couldn’t distinguish if there was fabric between their skin.

Peter pulled her up on the bed. She wasn’t wearing shoes, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t need them.

“I’m gonna wrap my arm around you, so don’t hit me or anything.”

He was taller than her for this one moment, and the way his head ducked minutely closer to her ear sent shivers down her arms. “No promises.”

The solid weight of Peter's arm drifted around her waist. Once he trailed his hands around her waist's circumstance, he latched her against his body. Firm, strong... She felt every inch of his chest along her own. Michelle’s toes lifted from the bed, skimmed the edge of her windowsill, then there was nothing but air and Peter. Her arms, which wound loose around his neck, squeezed tight enough to cause a grunt. “MJ,” Peter sounded strangled, so she forced herself to let up. “MJ,”

“What?” From the spot in Peter’s neck where she buried her face, her voice wafted into the wind.

"Choking. Not breathing." He rasped; she allowed her arms to relax until she had just a firm hold around his neck.

"Sorry."

Hearing something smacking against the wall, she dared to look around. Peter had strung up a web against the wall of her apartment. She could see small strands of it glistening in the light, leading back to Peter’s hand. She tried to disassociate with the fact she was dangling off the side of a building by stating, “That’s some crazy chemistry, Parker.”

“Yeah, I know.” Michelle felt Peter’s chuckle in her chest, felt the rush of air pass through the mask onto her neck as he leaned back against the strand. Her entire body fell against his. The solid warmth of him pushed against her chest. She was mesmerized by the way he’d exhale just as she’d inhale. It was pure harmony. Like the way the sun kissed the horizon goodbye and the moon kissed it hello.

They were at a forty-five-degree angle when Peter turned his head, his chin trailing across her forehead. “I’m gonna let go for a minute, okay?”

The delusional world of touch and sound faded away into crushing anxiety winding back around her chest. Her arms squeezed him ever tighter. “What?”

“I’m just gonna close the window. You just need to lean into me, and you’ll be fine. You know, because of gravity and all.” She swore she could feel his smirk through the mask against her right brow. “It’s basic science, MJ. I thought you’d have known that.”

She’d smack him if she wasn’t dangling five stories in the air with nothing between her and death except a teenage boy. “You’re such a dick sometimes.”

The muscles in Peter’s chest stretched as his arm strained to pull her window shut. Every detailed movement of his arm translated into Michelle. She felt the flex and elongation of his shoulders under her arms.

“A nice dick, though.” Peter exhaled across her neck. It sparked little fires on her skin. When he inhaled it left a breathless vacuum.

It took approximately three exhales for Michelle to think up a proper thing to say. “I’m sure the girls fall all over that.” Michelle tilted her lips towards the faint outline of Peter’s ears. She brushed the fabric with each whispered word. “Hi, I’m Peter Parker and I’m a very nice dick.”

A shiver passed through Peter. He slipped a few inches, causing his body to turn ridged against Michelle’s. She felt her heart drop into the acid of her stomach. Peter yanked her impossibly closer. Her arms tightened around his neck, his pulse racing against her own. “J-Jesus, MJ. You can’t say things like that.”

Not factoring in the actuality that she could have just died, Michelle smirked against the tough fibers covering Peter’s neck. “I say things like that all the time.” She was breathless; her lungs starved of oxygen.

The slap of her window closing delayed Peter’s retort. As he began pulling them into an upright position, he finally grunted out a response. “You know, I could let you fall right now. I have that power.” Michelle felt her body sliding down Peter's as he pulled them upright.

Gravity was daunting as Peter’s weight shifted from beneath her. “Such a charmer. You tell all the girls that?” She allowed sarcasm to soothe her.

“Shut up.”

She heaved a breathy laugh as her arms flexed around his shoulders. The more they straightened the more her feet found a perch atop his. Her back kissed the wall. Peter stuck to it as his moniker implied. He was Spider-Man after all. Michelle would have to ask about how he stuck to flat surfaces later; because right now she could only focus on a few things at a time. At the current moment, it was the utter fear gripping her system. And then it was the way Peter’s nose bumped into her chin. She was at least three inches taller than him with her feet resting atop his.

The pull of gravity itched to yank her away from Peter, yet his arm seemed unbreakable around her waist.

There was something different about when someone was the ground beneath you, and the stars above you. His arm reached above her, his hand holding them against the wall, He was no more than a breath away. Michelle never felt so completely entangled in another person. She briefly wondered if Peter felt the same, even though she knew he didn’t. Not in the way she wanted him to.

Peter swung around Michelle, positioning himself in a makeshift squat against the wall. Michelle sat on his bent legs.

He pulled something out from a pocket in his suit that was virtually invisible. It looked like it was a rope woven from web. Careful not to let her go with his other arm, he hung the rope around his neck, before his free hand slapped back to the wall. “Just in case, thread that around my waist and around yours.”

Michelle laughed. “You know, people use full harnesses for rock climbing? If I fall, tying this around my waist isn’t gonna do shit.”

“It’s a work in progress. Jesus, why are you so difficult?”

Regardless of how absurd it was, she leaned into his bent legs, loosening her arms from his neck. She picked the rope up. It felt oddly cold, but it was more so the texture that made it feel that way. The elasticity and strength of the stand was astonishing. She threaded it around their bodies, careful of Peter’s hand wrapped around her, and tied it in a figure eight knot.

And then, they were ready.

It took them ten minutes of swinging to get to Peter’s mystery location. Michelle swore she’d jump off a building before she let Peter swing her around Queens again.

He was now scaling the side of a building, slower than she was sure he could go, but then he was only using one hand. Michelle kept Peter in a bear hug, her legs wrapped tight around his waist. After they passed the tenth floor, she glued her eyes shut to keep from throwing up. Peter was trying to keep her talking. He could probably feel the thundering of her heart against his chest and knew she was scared out of her mind. If there weren’t more pressing things to worry about, Michelle would be embarrassed by how typical she was acting. Shouldn’t she be able to dangle fifteen stories in the air and be completely neutral about it?

She forced her eyes open, convincing herself that she was being ridiculous. If she was on the other side of the glass, looking down from the interior of the building, she would be fine. Now, seeing the shrunken effect on cars and the few people mulling about below, Michelle felt a new wave of nausea and promptly shut her eyes again.

Peter was babbling on about something, she could hear snippets of Star Wars, and how The Last Jedi wasn’t that bad after he watched it again. A particularly nippy gust of wind washed through her hair, smacking into her body, Michelle shivered through her teeth, “Peter, this is not the time to nerd out on me.”

“Are you cold?”

“What was the first clue?”

Peter huffed, pulling them both up another floor. “You know, I drag you up her with your boney hips and I don’t even get a thank you. Frankly I’m shocked. Your manners are appalling.” He said it with a quiver of laughter in his voice.

“First of all, I was fine sitting at home, you begged me to come. Secondly, you can shut the hell up about my boney hips because literally you’ve got the boniest everything ever, so suck it up.” Michelle looked up to the sky because it was better than gazing at the distance between her feet and the unforgiving pavement beneath. She was pretty sure they were at the top of the building Peter had scaled for the better part of thirty minutes.

Peter hauled them both onto the flat surface of the roof. It took some work for him to pull them up as a unified pair.

His foot slipped against the gothic trimming of the building, causing him to crash into Michelle. The force knocked her off kilter. Gravel bit into her back. Peter fell on top of her, flopping on her chest and panting with anxiety. “Sorry. I slipped, but it’s okay. We’re okay… Are you okay?” He yanked the mask off, his breath washing across her cheeks, prickling her neck. His weight was still pushing into her. He asked his question again when she didn’t answer. His face was close. It’d been this close before, but this felt different. “MJ, are you okay?” It was a whisper, at least that’s what it felt like. Whispering always felt so intimate.

Gulping down the burn aching in her throat, Michelle shoved him away to save from doing something stupid. “Yeah I’m great. I really loved the part where we almost died.”

Peter laughed. He rolled from her and stored his mask in his backpack. “We didn’t almost die.”

“So, swinging around Queens and scaling buildings with crazy superpowers that make no scientific sense is completely safe? My life was in danger, Parker.”

Eyes rolled in his head, a smirk twitched on his face “For someone who seems so chill, you really are a drama queen.”

With a sly grin, Michelle started to pull herself to her feet. This banter was the most normal her and Peter had been in weeks. “I couldn’t possibly take Her Majesty's crown away from her.” Rolling to her feet, she slapped Peter twice on the shoulder. Her pointed look conveyed what her words didn’t.

Peter pulled back, placing a hand to his heart. “You can’t possibly mean me?”

“Seeing how you’re the one who wears red and blue pajamas while saving the city, I’d say yes.” The gravel was biting into her feet, poking her heels and toes with jagged edges. Without thinking, her weight shifted from foot to foot, trying to find a comfortable position. “What did you want to show me anyways, loser?”

Perking up, Peter slung his backpack from his shoulder to the ground. He reached into the mouth of it, searching for something until his face shifted into delight. He pulled a cube, matte black with glowing blue edges, from the bag.

Peter handed her the cube and she explored the surface with prying fingers. Smooth metal, cool to the touch greeted her fingertips. The neon blue lights flickered when her fingers brushed against them. “What is it?”

Peter took it from her palm. His eyes flickered over her injured hand and she knew he wanted to ask how she was doing. Instead he reverted his attention back to the cube. Fast as lightning, but Michelle picked up on it.

“Come on, I’ll show you.” He slung his backpack onto one shoulder and hopped away from her. Grinning wide, he was already halfway across the roof. He hunched over something that looked like blankets. He set the cube down as Michelle started to make her way across the gravel. She should have put shoes on. Every step lodged jagged rocks into the pads of her feet. She took her steps light and slow.

Once she managed her way to Peter and came up beside him, she saw blankets laid out over the center of the roof, taking up a good radius of space. Michelle stepped behind him and onto the layers of blankets. He was crouched down over the cube he’d been showing to her. He set it up around the fringe of the blankets. She noticed there were three more set up around the perimeter just like it. “What's—” she began to ask, until she realized Peter had his phone pressed against his cheek.

“Mr. Stark,” With Peter’s back turned toward her, he spoke hushed into the phone. She stared at the spider graphic sprawled across his shoulder blades. Peter continued on, “Well I just figured—no! I mean, yes. I know I shouldn’t have—but it was right there and—What? No, she isn’t. Oh my God, please stop. Mr. Stark, can you please just—? She isn’t my girlfriend. I’m just trying to be a good friend. Please can you stop asking me about—Oh my God.” Peter’s head dropped low enough that Michelle could see only his neck.

He was listening intent to Tony Stark on the other line, and Michelle couldn’t resist messing with him. Padding over, she placed her lips close enough to his ear that her voice could fill them completely. “What’cha doin’, Spidey?”

He shot into the air. Literally, Peter went about three feet in the air. “MJ!” he screeched. The phone was still tight in his fist. “Jesus! You scared the shit out of me.”

She shrugged, feigning innocence, and plopped down on the blankets. Peter must have layered them up because she couldn’t feel the gravel beneath her. “You didn’t happen to steal this tech from Tony Stark, did you?”

Peter yelped and covered the receiver of his phone. “I borrowed it!”

“Typical white person response.” Laying back, Michelle turned her face toward the sky. There was always the impenetrable glow of the city below. No stars, only light slung up into the heavens. It was the vast nothingness she accepted.

“How is that a—" Peter shot her a dirty look. His face always looked too much like a puppy to take him seriously. “Nevermind.” He spoke a few more hushed words into the receiver Michelle couldn’t make out. Not that she was trying to eavesdrop. She was naturally curious. All she managed to hear was an elated, “Thank you so much, Mr. Stark!” before Peter hung up the phone. He kneeled next to one of the cubes around the blankets and fidgeted with it. In the darkness Michelle could only see the flash of his fingers over blue light before the washed-out sky above her dissolved into a clear view of the stars.

Bolting up, Michelle’s eyes roamed over the dome now above her. Black around the edges, fading into a glittered peak. She curled her fingers through the flicker of the dome. The glowing pricks above her head dimmed as her hand moved through them. “Is this a hologram?”

Peter’s weight dropped beside her and he brought a blanket over their legs. His arm brushed hers. “Sort of. Mr. Stark created it to keep an eye on the sky after everything that’s happened. But living in light polluted areas he couldn’t just go stargazing. I thought he’d have like a giant observatory, but he doesn’t. Well, I don’t think he does…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. If he does, I don’t think he uses it. Either way, he started looking into creating a mini observatory that he could carry with him. It uses holotech to create a filter for light pollution, and since it creates a dome over the viewer, the micro telescope can filter everything out. Then, if you want, you can zoom, and the dome will project the magnified image. Watch.” With a proud smile, Peter swept his hands in front of the dome. His actions caused the sky to zoom inwards until Michelle was looking directly into the Milky Way. There were so many more stars above her than she had ever seen. Inhaling deeply, the pure sight of the sky filled her.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Peter asked, glancing at her for approval.

Michelle, with her eyes brimming in stars and her vision a typhoon of galaxies, smiled and nodded. “I’ve never seen so many stars. This is incredible.” Her breath hitched when she glanced away enough to look at Peter. All nose and eyebrows from the side. His lips a thin line per usual. “Thank you.” It was no more than a whisper.

Peter met her eyes. Only half of his face was visible in the reduced light, but Michelle could see the tender smile across his face. “You’re welcome.”

The realization that she’d been treating her entire team and best friends as punching bags because of her own personal insecurities struck her. The thought of her father bubbled up, knowing that was how he dealt with his issues. She couldn’t bear to look at Peter with the thought and turned her face away. Clearing his throat, Peter also turned his face back to the sky.

“So, if you want, I can show you how to work this. It's pretty easy. I'm sure you can figure it out yourself.... but just in case.” He made no assumptions and didn’t instantly begin explaining.

“You can just do it. I’d rather sit back and enjoy.”

“You sure?”

Nodding, Michelle adjusted to a more comfortable position. She inadvertently brushed against Peter’s arm and stayed with her skin pressed against his warmth.

Peter began zooming in on constellations. Text appeared next to the stars providing the information that Peter would ask for aloud. Michelle began asking questions too. The experience was incredible. They looked at the crater marked surface of the Moon in detail Michelle could barely believe. Peter was able to find the sea of Tranquility without the AI’s help. When they turned their focus to Mars, Michelle then pointed out Olympus Mons. The detail was crystal clear. It was raw, celestial beauty.

Being in their own world, with the filtered dome overhead, Michelle couldn’t help feeling a surge of fire in her stomach. Rolling against her ribs and licking lower into her abdomen. She could feel the gratitude crashing over her. The wave of gratitude gave way to purity. A sense that she’d been stripped of her barriers. Peter found a way to take away her varnish and find the natural grain under her surface.

Michelle felt the heat of the stars burning over her skin. They both stared at the Milky Way shining over their heads. Peter’s knuckles brushed against hers, and she forced her hand away, assuming it was an accident. The burn coursing over her skin contradicted wildly with the emptiness inside. She’d been decimated in the past weeks. Looking up at those twinkling lights in the sky, she realized many of them may have already met her same fate. “Isn’t it so weird that a lot of these stars could’ve collapsed, burnt out, or exploded eons ago, and we wouldn’t know. A star could’ve exploded yesterday, and we wouldn’t know on Earth until billions of years from now. It’s unnerving, when you think of it.”

Peter gazed at her, caressing the profile of her face with his gentle stare. Invisible burns arched up her cheeks and rounded over her nose under his steady observation. No mockery masked Peter’s face as a closed-mouth smile reached up to crinkle his eyes. “Yeah, that’s crazy,” He trailed his eyes back to the stars, prompting Michelle to bring her attention back to the glitter filled sky. Peter continued his sentence with his face still turned up. “It really makes you think about the power of those balls of gas. Even our Sun distributes heat for millions of miles. All that raw, plasmic energy. All that heat and power. And someday, it'll be gone. It’s crazy that things so powerful in the universe can just be gone one day.” Glancing at Michelle he began to rectify what he said. “Well I mean obviously they don’t just die out of the blue. They decline, or expand, or collapse. So, it’s obvious that the death is coming, but—I mean, you get what I mean.” He paused, “But they sure are pretty to look at right now.”

Words were picking up speed in her thoughts. She thought about the death of stars. Stars which cut such a puncture through space that with her naked eye she gazed at them; trillions of miles away. And one day, they would die.

Inside, she felt a decline. The plasmic core of her universe dropping in temperature by the day. One day, the gravity wouldn’t be enough to keep her together. She’d hurtle through the universe in billions of tiny pieces. She would turn into asteroids that left destruction in their wake. Peter’s words echoed in her mind at that moment. But they sure are pretty to look at right now.

“They’re harmless from all the way down here. But if you get too close to them, they can only cause destruction. You fall into them and you burn.” Her voice was small. The words muttered at a volume reserved for reverent prayers.

Peter turned his face away from the sky and back to focus on her. “MJ?” Some questions need not be asked. Knowing what Peter would gather from her dreary comment, Michelle knew the question he was asking with just her name. He wanted to understand.

With a heavy sigh she closed her eyes and counted to five. It was the same as jumping from a cliff into the waters below. The countdown until launch. “I feel like I blew up in every meaning of the word except physically.” Swallowing, Michelle continued beyond the grip of her insecurities wrapping around her throat. They coiled in her lungs. “There’s all of this stuff that I don’t like to think about, about my past. I’ve been thinking about it so much recently.” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “It all stems to my damn father. I have so many insecurities because of what he did to my mom and me. I’ve spent my entire life trying to distance myself from him, but there’s this part inside that just feels so disgustingly like him. Like he’s passed on being a shitty human to me.” She could feel Peter’s intent gaze.

Another swallow. Deep breath. “He’d beat my mother, and I was ‘always the cause of everything’.” Sarcasm bit her tone, a sharp bark to her words. “We weren’t enough for him. Not that I give a shit about that, because he didn’t deserve my mom. But he tried to solve all his problems with anger. I felt like it was my fault, I guess and so I just started building these walls. I looked into his eyes the night they took him to prison and told myself I’d never be like him. I never wanted to be someone I wasn’t so people might like me. It never worked on my dad, and after trying so hard to change his mind I wasn't interested in changing anyone else's. I just built up those walls so he couldn’t hurt me anymore, so no one would be able to hurt me. And I’m happy with the person I’ve become, because I made myself the way I am….” She swallowed. Pushed the emotions behind her exterior and kept her eyes trained towards the galaxies.

A long silence followed. From the corner of her eye Michelle could tell Peter was listening intently to her. His lips didn’t twitch to fill the void. He waited until she was ready. A minuscule smile flashed on her lips before disappearing into smoke.

“But there’s this feeling that he’s lurking in there somewhere when I get angry or feel like I’m not the person people want me to be. All I can hear is him berating me, and all I can see is what he did to my mother, over and over. The walls I build... I feel like I’m protecting myself as much as everyone else. Because if I’m even a fraction of the person he is, I can’t let that be who I am. And when the walls crumble, I feel that part of myself lash out and it just goes to show he’s part of me. No matter how much I’ve tried to purge him. So much has been falling apart recently. And I’ve had to see that I’m not the—” …person you want…

Michelle cleared her throat, loud and violent to compensate for her near slip up. “I’ve just felt attacked for stupid reasons. Then, because I was mad, I pushed you away and acted out. And because I’ve been spiraling, the decathlon thing happened, then I punched Flash. And now to top it all off my dad wants me to come visit him in prison. And, Jesus, I’m actually thinking of going just to give him a giant, ‘fuck you for fucking up my life!’ But then I think it’s not even worth it because he doesn’t deserve that much.”

Michelle’s eyes stayed miraculously dry, but tremors crawled down her body. Her lip quivered in the slightest as she focused on trying to keep it still. Trying to laugh it off. “I’m not trying to throw a pity party here or play the misogynistic trope of the damsel in emotional distress who’s in need of your rescue.”

Reflections of the stars sparkled in Peter’s eyes. Every point of light highlighted the sincerity that Peter oozed. “That would make me your knight in shining armor.” And he chuckled, light and full of air. The breath of it broke over Michelle’s face.

She chuckled too. Now able to crease her lips into a smile, Michelle replied. “In your dreams.”

Smiling back at her, Peter said. “Yeah,” His eyes flitted down to trace the curve of her jaw. “You don't need a guy to save you.”

“I’d take Spider-Man if I was in a jam.

Peter threw his head back against the blankets with an infectious laugh. “Good to know.” When he turned back to her, that genuine, supporting gaze returned. “But seriously, MJ, you are nothing like your dad. I mean, you’re my best friend, and I like to think I know you. The real you. You could never be like your dad. Not from what you just told me. I think you know that somewhere deep inside. You could tame the sea, MJ. I mean—I’m pretty sure that you are God. I mean,” He blushed ever so slightly. “You’re one of the most badass, caring, mindful, intelligent, beautiful people I know. That may not help at all, because I get insecurities and have bad anxiety. I know that sometimes no matter what people say—I just know that sometimes it doesn’t help. You’re having a hard time right now, but just please remember that I—everyone—Ned, Aunt May, and I, all love you. I love you so much I—” He cleared his throat. “Ned does too. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Much less us. You are Michelle Goddamn Jones. And you, ma’am...” He brushed the knuckle of his index finger down the bridge of her nose. Fire woke in its path. “You are a national treasure.”

“Laying it on pretty thick, huh?” The smile wobbled on her face, but felt firm, her cheeks filled with burning plasma. A tear slipped from the edge of her eye and slid halfway down her cheek before Peter’s thumb caught it.

“Maybe.” As Peter shrugged, he shifted closer to her. His forehead a brush away from her own. In that minuscule void he whispered, “But it’s true.”

Images of her father flashed through her thoughts.

Before Peter showed up at her window, she’d thought of all the things she’d say to her father. The words she’d use to prove that she was nothing like him. That he had no control over her life. She wanted him to know the garbage he was as a father and human. With Peter’s words now swirling around her brain, a bubbling realization took over her.

At some point she’d lost herself in the rubble her father left. Somewhere along the line, she gave too many pieces of herself to the ghosts she chased. There were things she couldn’t control. She sure as hell wouldn't allow anything to control her.

In that moment, with her head pressed against Peter’s, their eyes closed and breath braiding together, Michelle let go of her father. She owed no piece of herself to him. The memories would always hurt, but she wouldn’t waste her time on him.

When Peter’s nose skimmed her own Michelle let the guilt and pain boil away.

She was not a statue carved from stone, unable to bend or move. Stuck in eternity as one person. She was an imposing wave that battered shore, and she was the wave caressing the sand as it tumbled back to the ocean. She would not be imprisoned in her own misconceptions of what she could and couldn't be.

The resinous smell of Peter engulfed her. His cheek was soft as velvet under her lips. In that moment, she realized he was not hers to keep. She knew that all she needed from him was friendship. Anything else beyond his friendship was something she wanted but would not allow herself to need.

“Thank you.” It dripped as honey would from her lips. It was a pure murmur into Peter’s ear. Michelle put to rest the idea that Peter’s glances and smiles meant anything beyond friendship. Regardless of if he would or could love her, it didn't matter. She was not his, and he was not hers. They both belonged to each other only in friendship. She accepted it and let that longing inside diminish to nothing more than a vague ache.

She pulled away from Peter, her lips brushing faint along his skin. As her body created space between them, she began filling the emptiness inside herself.

Finally, she was beginning to feel whole.

________________________________________________________________

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yellowmagicalgirl · 5 years

Text

Cast Away Your True Love's Kiss

5. “I didn’t want it to end, I just thought you’d be better off without me..” from the 40 Prompts List

@rebelliouswhirlpool this fic is finally done. It is finished. It is thirteenpages, Calibri, 11 point font, single spaced with a space after each paragraph. Tumblr won’t allow me to add a read more to an ask, and I’m not going to torture everyone on my dash with that monstrosity of a long post.

Also, this fic is going to contain blood-based body horror and a character who suffers from depression. Hard to believe that this was originally a Sleeping Beauty au, isn’t it? (If you wanted something less dark I have your original ask.)

AO3

FFN

“Are you okay?” shouldn’t have been the words that started the end. When they left Jim’s mouth, they didn’t sound like they were words intended to start the end of things.

No, she wasn’t okay. Okay was only five feet away from perfect and she was as far from perfect, as far from okay even, as far she was from Arcadia.

“I’m fine,” Claire said instead. Fine was a nice lie, a lie that she had perfected. It was one of the few things still perfect about her. And besides, if she wasn’t fine now it was a state she could get to if she worked hard enough. She had to be fine, and she had to handle it on her own.

“No, you’re not.” Of course, Jim could tell when something was off. “Are you sleeping okay? The ground probably isn’t good for your back.” Then again, he was also entirely off from the source of her problems.

Was she sleeping okay? Ha. She wasn’t levitating with blackened eyes or trying to take down wards when she was supposed to be sleeping, was she?

“I’m fine, Jim. Really.”

He ignored her. “Are you eating enough? I” Was he? “I can cook more for you. Would that help?”

No, she wouldn’t try to torture Jim. He loved cooking and he couldn’t eat his own food.

“Seriously, Jim, I’m fine.” She wouldn’t be fine if he kept trying to fix her. He couldn’t fix her.

“I wish you wouldn’t lie to me. You did that when you were sick, and, well…” Jim trailed off, possibly sensing her fury a moment before it was unleashed.

“This is nothing like that,” she seethed. Angry magic rose within her; she pushed it down. Jim shouldn’t bring it up like that, but she would not be a monster. And that was just another part of her problem.

“I’m really worried about you, and you keep brushing all of us off!”

“There’s nothing to worry about!” Because there’s nothing you can fix so drop it.

“Please, Claire,” Jim said, dropping his voice into a soft tone. “All of us – Blinky, Me, Nomura, Notenrique, Toby – we’re all worried about you. You’re jumpy, and it feels like each night you’re dragging behind more and more.”

And there it was. There was his chance.

Claire grabbed her backpack and began to walk out of the cave.

“Where are you going?” Jim asked.

“Home. Arcadia,” Claire said. She didn’t look at him. If she looked back at him she would crumple to the floor.

“How are you going to get back there? We’re hundreds of miles away.” Jim asked as Claire removed the crystal from the center of her chest. Her armor disappeared.

“Greyhound.” Short, simple, words kept her from crying. She almost dropped the crystal that triggered her armor but chose to put it in her pocket instead.

“I, okay,” Jim said. “Are you sure? I can try to make things better, we can still fix things.”

She wanted him to fight for her, for them. She wanted him to push her away.

“There’s nothing you can fix, Jim.” She put as much poison into the words as she could. That’s all that was left of her, wasn’t it? “I hope you can find someone better than me.”

Jim called out for her as she began to walk across the scorching sand. Claire didn’t cry because it was a mile-long walk to the nearest bus station and she didn’t really want to get dehydrated.

Jim stopped calling her name, and she realized that someone else was also calling out her name.

“Come on, Claire, wait up! Little legs!”

For the first time since leaving, Claire turned around. NotEnrique had retained his changeling ability to walk in the sun.

“NotEnrique, what are you doing here?” She walked towards him, slowly and steadily so she wouldn’t try and run back to Jim once she got to her brother.

“Didn’t think you could just leave me behind, did’ya?”

“But the Heartstone–”

“Most changelings don’t get a Heartstone. Heck, old Bossman stayed with the Trollhunter’s mother instead of traveling to New Jersey with us. No, I’m staying with you, kid. You can’t push me away that easy.”

Claire scooped him up into her arms and began walking to the bus stop again. “You’re getting shoved in my backpack and you’re not allowed to mess with anything once we get closer to civilization.”

After days on a bus, Claire was finally back in Arcadia. Did she regret it?

It was only another item on the list.

She knelt and let NotEnrique out of her backpack. He looked around.

“Really, sis? You couldn’t have waited one more stop to get us closer to yer house?”

“You’re the one who complained about being cooped up.”

It was sunny out, so there weren’t many trolls around.

“You gonna call him to tell him you got home okay?” NotEnrique asked. She didn’t have to ask to know he was talking about Jim. He’d tried to give her relationship advice, which oscillated between “maybe you should’ve left me behind, so I could’ve made his hands symmetrical and gotten rid of the extra teeth” and trying to get her to talk about her feelings and how there was obviously something wrong other than the fact that Jim had pushed a little too much in the wrong direction.

Claire pushed her shoulders and her feelings down and back. “Later.”

“What about your parents or Tubby for a ride with a car or a magic warhammer?”

“We’re walking,” Claire said a bit more forcefully. Besides, she didn’t want to have to talk to them right now. Her mom would try to act like she had been right all along, that living a normal life would do Claire better than a change of scenery. Her dad would manage to come up with more creative threats for her ex-boyfriend than NotEnrique had. Jim had probably cried to Toby about her walking out on him, so things would be at least as awkward as they had been when she had first joined the team.

As Claire crossed the bridge that went over the entrance to Trollmarket, she glanced at the canal. Once destroyed by the vortex that created the Eternal Night, building teams had managed to patch the hole in a surprisingly fast amount of time.

That patch allowed Claire and NotEnrique not to fall into an incredibly deep chasm whose fall they wouldn’t survive. They would have fallen down and down, and without the Shadow Staff then at least Claire would splatter among the dead Heartstone like a messier version of Vendel’s death.

Instead, they rolled, and the burst of energy caused by Claire summoning her armor took away from the freefall.

“Pity, what they’ve done to my handiwork.” Claire had never wanted to hear that voice again.

Morgana’s spirit floated in front of Claire just like it had so many times in the past.

“I sealed you away,” Claire said. She moved to grip her Shadow Staff and remembered that it had been destroyed.

“Yes, well, so did Merlin, and you still were my servant for a little while.” Morgana was being more courteous since the last time they had seen each other. She was acting like she had in the bathroom, after she had stopped pretending to be concerned that she had absolutely terrified Claire by taking on the form of her reflection.

“Get away from her!” NotEnrique ran towards Morgana. Claire wasn’t sure if he knew that he would probably pass through the witch, but neither of them got to find out. Morgana flicked her wrist, and NotEnrique went flying across the canal.

“They never learn,” Morgana sighed.

“Some of us do,” Claire said, magic bursting from her hands.

“Then what I’ll do to you might be a kindness.” Claire was baking in her armor and she still shivered at the word “kindness” coming out of Morgana’s mouth. “After all, you won’t have to live as Merlin’s newest apprentice.”

Claire brought up her hands to form semi-crystalline shields.

Morgana smirked. “A dangerous spell to use, when the combination of your raw power and desire to die are matched by your inexperience.”

Claire didn’t actually want to die, though. Just disappear for a while. No, the witch was just taunting her. She was referring to the fact that sometimes Claire did stupid things, like tackle people into the Shadow Realm or make a giant portal that she had been warned not to make.

It wasn’t that Claire didn’t suspect something was going terribly wrong when her veins began to crack and turn black again. It was just that it was a painful side effect of magic.

It was odd, though. This spell wasn’t normally so painful to cast.

“I’ve been wondering when you would return to this place,” Morgana said. “It took longer than I expected, but don’t worry. I’ve had other things to do while I waited.”

Claire wrinkled her nose. Then something warm began to drip out of it, and she pressed her lips together. This was not the time for her to develop allergies.

Morgana’s smile grew wider. “Well, now you’re back in your beloved Arcadia Oaks. You’re going to destroy it for me.”

“I won’t let you possess me again!” Claire shouted. Blood dripped from her nose into her mouth. “I’d rather–”

Well, maybe the witch had a little bit of a point.

“Oh, don’t worry, you burned that bridge. Such an ungracious host,” she scoffed. Claire felt like she was salivating blood.

“No,” Morgana continued. “You’re going to carry a plague to the rest of Arcadia Oaks, and after that, how about the world? It’ll be like in that play you like, oh, what was the line?” She tapped a translucent jade finger against her chin as if she was thinking. “Oh, right. You’ll be like a plague upon both the you tried to protect worlds.”

Had she been younger, Claire would have been frustrated by the way her favorite play was being used against her. Instead, she was more focused on the fact that she was starting to cough up blackened blood.

She wouldn’t be patient zero. She needed to do something to protect Arcadia.

She began to cry, and her vision began to go black. She didn’t faint, though, she just looked around wildly as she realized that blackened blood had blinded her.

“Oh, you poor thing,” the Mother of Monsters drawled. Blood disseminated down Claire’s throat as a ghostly hand managed to cup her cheek. It then grabbed her chin and presumably forced her to face Morgana. “Tell you what. Since we both had to suffer under that wizard, I’ll tell you two forms of a cure.”

Claire didn’t need to see Morgana to know that her grin must have been splitting her face open by now.

“The first is a fairy’s breath, and the second is true love’s kiss. Now, I wonder which of those will be harder for you to find?”

How did Morgana know about her breakup with Jim? She was probably referring to the fact that she had knocked him out in battle.

Claire hoped she blasted a hole in Morgana’s incorporeal form with the blast of presumably purple light that came out of her hand.

Claire felt herself get lifted into the air, and then get dropped for her insolence. She tried to form shields to slow her fall. She had to find a way to keep herself from infecting Arcadia and killing the rest of the world like Morgana had wanted, because the fairies had lost the war to the pixies and there would be no true love’s kiss.

The last thing Claire felt was her lungs filling up and her magic pulsing out of her like a shockwave.

“Hey, Tobes! I guess I caught you at a bad time, hope you’re keeping it crispy! Bye!”

“Hi, Mom. I’m guessing you’re at the clinic, so I’ll call you back later.”

“Toby, are you mad at me?”

“Hey, AAARRRGGHH!!! Blinky’s a little worried about you, and don’t tell him I said this, but I think me might be worried about Dictatious, too.”

“Mom? I didn’t want to leave you, you know that, right? You know that I wasn’t trying to be like Dad – bad-dad, not Blinky – when I left; are you mad at me? I love you. Bye.”

“Hi, Mr. Strickler. Can you please tell Mom I’m sorry for whatever I did?”

“NotEnrique? Hi, it’s Jim. Weird stuff is going on, and I was wondering if you and Claire are okay. Sorry for putting you in an awkward position.”

“Hi, Claire. I know you’re mad at me, but please. I need your help. No one from back home in Arcadia is answering my calls or texts, and I’m getting worried. I can’t find anything on the internet, and you should be back in Arcadia by now. Can you just talk to them? You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to, though an indicator that you made it back safe would be nice. I just want to know what’s going on.”

“This is Jim. I don’t know why you won’t talk to me, but this is going to be my last call until you call me back. I can’t do this anymore.”

“I know I said that last time was my last call until you called me back, but I’m coming back to Arcadia. Do as you will. I’ll be ready.”

The gyre broke down before it got to the station. It was alright, Jim supposed. He had left Arcadia six months ago, and six months ago he would have been elated to be back home.

He didn’t really want to go back to Arcadia, now, but there was a baby Heartstone to bring back to the old one. They were here to figure out what cuttings would be needed to be able to safely place the new Heartstone into the old one. It would be easier than trying to establish a Trollmarket in New Jersey.

“Good thing we left at sunset,” Blinky said, “because it looks like we’ll have to walk.”

“I’ll see if I can find directions,” Jim said half-heartedly. “There’s nothing.”

It was like his hometown had disappeared off the map.

“We’ll just take the old routes.”

After a couple minutes of walking, Jim had to blink a couple times. “Hey, Blink? Do you feel like something’s trying to turn us away? Like, we shouldn’t keep going, like there’s something bad ahead?”

“Oh, Jim, I know this is hard for you,” Blinky said. “I don’t know why they stopped speaking to us, but we have a duty to the other trolls.”

“I know, but it’s not like that. It’s like…”

One moment, they were walking through the woods. The next, they were on the outskirts of Arcadia. A barrier of violet and gold light stood behind them. On the ground was a squirrel mid-run. Birds perched in the trees.

All of them looked like they had been hit by Creeper’s Sun.

“Great Gronka Morka, who would’ve done this?” Blinky asked.

Jim summoned his shield and gestured for Blinky to get behind him. “And why? Small animals wouldn’t pose a threat, and it’s not like anyone would rather eat them petrified.” He looked behind himself, to check to see if he was saying was true.

“Not like this, it’s unnatural,” Blinky said, ignoring the fact that so was whipped cream with preservatives. “Also, that barrier makes me uneasy.”

“After we crossed it, I stopped feeling like we were supposed to turn away.” Jim frowned. “Do you think that’s why we couldn’t find any information on Arcadia?”

“Perhaps, son.” Blinky pulled out his phone. “All the information is almost six months old.”

Jim summoned his dagger and cracked open the squirrel. Like a geode, it was filled with amethyst, though it had veins of iron pyrite. Between the amethyst and k-spar-esque covering, the squirrel was comprised of obsidian.

“Let’s go to Trollmarket; I can check my library. Oh, I do wish my brother didn’t complete the act of burning it.”

The road to Trollmarket’s entrance was littered with petrified bodies. To call Arcadia Oaks a ghost town wouldn’t have encapsulated the extent of the horror Jim felt. All these people were going about their everyday lives; none of them looked like they knew what would happen to them.

It was Blinky who saw it first.

Sprouted from the canal was a single amethyst. It was three meters high, and vaguely conical. As Blinky and Jim walked towards it, they found that a ring of iron pyrite kept it fused to the jagged circle of obsidian that surrounded it.

For all its supernatural beauty, it was the figure inside the amethyst that gave them the most pause. Claire was frozen in freefall, with black veins peeking out from her clawed armor. Despite the stains that obscured them, the knowledge that those same veins in her face would be blackened filled Jim with dread. Despite her eyes being unseeing voids of black, she looked so scared. Black spheroids streamed upwards from her eyes, nose, and mouth; she was eternally crying and drowning in amethyst.

“No,” Jim said. “She didn’t deserve this.” He turned to Blinky. “I’m going to cut down her body.”

Carving her out was emotionally arduous but faster than Jim would’ve expected. Feeling NotEnrique’s petrified gaze upon him didn’t make it any easier. One of his daggers cut a little too close to her hand, and he winced.

Could he have saved her? She had been dyspeptic when he had last seen her alive and “fine”, but maybe if he had tried harder to make her happy, or at least comfortable, maybe she wouldn’t have left and wouldn’t be like this.

Her hand began to glow like an eggplant dwärkstone.

“Get down!” Jim called, summoning his shield to defend himself from the chunks of amethyst that came flying off Claire’s body.

When the blast cleared, Claire’s chest rapidly rose and fell as gurgling noises came from her throat. Blinky ran to the pair of teenagers, hugged Claire from behind, and squeezed.

It was hard to tell whether she vomited black blood, coughed it up from her lungs, or some abhorrent combination of the two.

“It’s alright, Faire Claire,” Blinky said. “You’re safe now.”

The three of them sat in Blinky’s library, which hadn’t been trashed by Gumm-Gumms.

Claire didn’t look Blinky in the eyes, and she tried not to look at Jim. Her eyelids felt heavy; the bloody tears clung to her eyelashes like cheap expired mascara.

“I hadn’t been back in Arcadia for more than half an hour when she found me.”

“She?” Blinky pressed.

Claire flinched. Jim had only seen her so jumpy twice. Once had been in the woods upon learning that trolls existed; the second time was the hours after her possession. “Morgana.”

“She’s back?” Jim asked. “But you guys sealed her away.”

“Not physically.” Claire coughed into the crook of her arm. “Her spirit showed up and tossed NotEnrique and I around. She wants me to carry a plague.”

“If she wanted you to carry a plague, then why would she have petrified everyone and trapped you in crystal? Or made a barrier around town that makes every human forget that Arcadia exists and keeps them from wanting to enter town?”

Claire gasped, an ugly and wet sound. “I think I did that. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, I just wanted to shield myself from her magic.”

And of course, she wanted to disappear.

Blinky stood up. “If she cursed you, then if you’re cured it might cure everyone else, since they were affected by your magic.”

“Morgana decided to tell me a way to cure myself, since, her words, ‘we both had to suffer under that wizard.’ It was a taunt, though, since fairy’s breath would be difficult to find.”

But not as difficult as true love’s kiss, nor as manipulative.

Claire had tried to stay out of Jim and Blinky’s way. She didn’t deserve them trying to help her. Everyone else in Arcadia did, though.

Claire sniffled again and tilted her head back. The number of nosebleeds she had been getting was frustrating. Stupid curse. Stupid black blood. Stupid Queen of the Seventh Realm or whatever she called herself these days.

Her stomach growled because it was mercifully empty of her own forsaken blood.

“When was the last time you ate?” Blinky asked.

“About five months ago,” Claire admitted. She opened her backpack to find the bag of beef jerky that had served as meals. “I think I have a… no, NotEnrique ate them all. Of course, he did.”

“Hopefully food on the surface hasn’t spoiled… I wonder if they have whipped cream,” Blinky mused. “Unfortunately, the sun should be rising, soon. Jim!”

“Yeah!” came the call from a call from one of Vendel’s old records.

“Can you accompany Claire to the surface to obtain food?”

Claire grimaced. “Blinky, I’ll be fine; I can go on my own.”

She hadn’t expected Blinky to give her such a sad smile. “Normally I’d believe you when you say you’ll be fine.”

Of course, Jim would have told Blinky about her last conversation with him. Would have told him how she had angrily professed to be fine. She had then gotten herself cursed and frozen in time.

“But you’ve lost a lot of blood,” he continued. “I don’t want you fainting.”

Walking together was awkward. Claire kept her eyes on the ground, so she wouldn’t have to see the people she had turned to stone. If she had stayed with Jim and the trolls, this wouldn’t have happened. She would have made them miserable as they figured her out, but she wouldn’t have been responsible for this. At the very least, she probably could have learned more from Merlin, so she could have protected herself.

Or she could have gotten her hand cut off, but that would be better than what she had done to her town.

“I almost wish we could call Merlin,” Jim said. “There’s a chance he might actually be able to help, for once.”

“Something happen to him?” Claire asked. Merlin hadn’t exactly been entirely helpful upon getting his magic back, though he had occasionally given her magic lessons. They seemed like they happened because he was bored, though, not because he truly took an interest in her magical ability.

They were probably better than what Morgana had gotten, at least.

“He up and left back in October.” Jim was fishing for the apology, or at least the explanation, that she owed him.

Claire began to walk faster. It would be more comfortable for him, she told herself. He had a longer stride than her. It just seemed like she was walking away. Again.

“Do you have any plans for after we find the cure for you?”

Not particularly, beyond hugging Suzy Snooze and bawling in the safety of her own room. Her younger self would be horrified with what she had become.

“Do you?”

“The Heartstone in New Jersey’s pretty small, but Blinky thinks we can use the old Heartstone to amplify it. It’ll be easier than building new infrastructure.”

“So, you’ll be coming back to Arcadia.”

“Eventually, yeah.”

“That’ll be, I’m sure you’ll be happy to see Toby and your mom again.” She’d have to face him more often than she thought she would.

“Yeah, considering that no one willingly cut all contact, it’ll be good to see all, everyone again.”

He blamed her. Of course, he did. Why wouldn’t he blame her? Yeah, Morgana had wanted her to kill everyone, but she was still the one who turned everyone to stone. And besides, she wasn’t a pleasant person to be around. Not anymore.

“The grocery store should be this way.” Claire started to walk faster before doubling over. She couldn’t breathe, and this wasn’t like when she would have an anxiety attack. She began to cough.

A four-fingered hand pounded her back with restrained force. A five-fingered hand held her hair away from her face.

“Thanks,” Claire said hoarsely once she was done coughing.

“Any time.”

“Still answering every call?”

“I kind of have to; there’s no walking away from being the Trollhunter.”

Why didn’t he just stick Eclipse into her? It’d be more efficient than his continuous lack of subtlety at inserting knives into her and then twisting them.

“Do you know if there’s been any heavy rain lately? If not in Arcadia, then the greater LA area.”

“No, why?”

“Just wondering how strong the stone is. NotEnrique could’ve been swept away if we’ve gotten any large rainstorms. And smashed against the walls of the canals. It’s also good no one has gotten other forms of erosion.” She was rambling too much. All the words she hadn’t said because she was fine and then a crystal were threatening to spill out.

“That would have been pretty bad, since once a troll is shattered that’s it for them, or at least it is with Creeper’s Sun.” Jim coughed slightly, and the frowned. That was odd, he hadn’t coughed ever since he had taken Grave Sand.

The whipped cream was spoiled, as were all the perishables that would have perished in the time since Arcadia Oaks had been petrified. Claire grabbed multiple cans of fruit and other foods she wouldn’t feel absolutely miserable eating cold. That meant passing over a can of refried beans in favor of Spam. Not even the chorizo-flavored canned meat, but the original flavor that had been used since the second world war. Not that the refried beans would taste as good as homemade ones but cooking beans more time.

“We can probably stop at one of our houses to see if the microwaves will work,” Jim said.

“I’d rather not.”

“You really want to eat that cold?”

“Back when you were human, would you rather have eaten a can of cold Spam or have stumbled upon your mom’s petrified body?” She walked over to where the bottled water was kept.

“Cold spam. I’ve already seen Mom petrified once, and that was enough.”

“When?” Claire asked before she could stop herself. She didn’t deserve his vulnerability.

“That was my worst fear when the pixies came.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Claire handed the water to Jim and began walking to the register. She began to pull out cash and a pen. On a paper towel she wrote a note, stating what she had taken and how much, making sure to pay for it in full. She didn’t look the dead-eyed cashier in the face.

“Looking back, I think I might have rather faced petrified family members in the Deep,” Jim mused.

“What did you face down there?” Claire asked, voice soft. He hadn’t ever really spoken about it, at least, not to her.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me what’s going on with you,” Jim said.

Claire bristled, adjusting her grip on her heavy backpack. “I already told you, I’m cursed.”

“You weren’t cursed months ago, when you left us.”

Dammit.

“And months ago, I told you to drop it.”

“I would have if you had given me one reason not to worry about you! Just one reason, and I would have tried to make things better! Unless,” he said, a betrayed expression overtaking his face. “Is it because I’m a troll?”

No. That wasn’t it at all. She had meant what she had said back on the rooftop six months ago, and she hadn’t changed her mind.

“Not everything is about you, Jim,” she said instead. At least his look of betrayal was replaced by one of more generic anger.

“Right. It’s about you.”

“What?”

“We’re trying to help you, you know, but for the past couple what has been only days for you, you’ve been irritable and stuck-up.”

“Stuck-up? Irritable, sure, I’ll admit to that. But how have I been stuck up?”

“Does ‘I hope you can find someone better than me’ ring any bells?”

Blood and acid churned in her stomach. “Jim, no,” she said, suddenly very aware of the way their angered voices echoed against the too-quiet parking lot. “That was supposed to be a low bar. You were supposed to figure out that someone better than me is a low bar. Six feet under Blinky’s library low. By the way, he’s probably wondering where we are.”

Neither of them spoke on the way back to Trollmarket, but Jim kept on giving Claire concerned glances.

“All the whipped cream spoiled,” Claire said. “Sorry, Blinky.”

Jim watched the two of them interact; his heart filled with what must have been longing. It felt more liquid than usual.

He had been trying to ignore it, but she looked so fragile. At first it had just been the combination of his half-troll strength and the way the veins along her jaw, eyes, and fingers formed black cracks. But now, knowing just how she viewed herself, knowing that he had been right about her not being fine in the worst ways…

Hating his ex-girlfriend had been hard enough in the months that had passed. Trying to convince himself that he didn’t love her anymore was even harder.

Now it was impossible to do either.

“You want any help?” Jim asked.

He didn’t expect the “sure” that fell out of Claire’s lips with a little bit of blood. She wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist.

“What’cha researching?”

“The war between the fairies and the pixies, and the connections that a certain witch we know has to the fairies.”

“Let me guess: it’s more than her last name?”

“I’m not sure if ‘le Fay’ is actually a last name or more of a title, but yeah. Apparently, she’s the daughter of the queen of Avalon, which is supposedly surrounded by an uncrossable sea of chaos and shadows.”

Jim gasped in horror. “That means–”

“– we’ll have to find a way to get through the Shadow Realm,” Claire finished solemnly. “But she said it was a cure.” Not exactly. “That would mean there’s other possible cures.” Ones other than crossing through the Shadow Realm and the one that would be entirely impossible.

“And if there isn’t, we’re going to have to be careful. Morgana did this to you because she could use it to break out–”

“–and she has a personal grudge against me,” Claire interrupted.

“And she has a personal grudge against you,” Jim said. “But this isn’t going to be like the Darklands. We’re going to get the fairy’s breath, fix you and Arcadia, all without releasing anyone who wants to destroy the world.”

“You can’t fix me,” Claire whispered. Jim looked up from the book into her eyes. The resignation in them made her look more ancient than Vendel had been.

“No, we’re going to find a cure,” Jim said.

The smile that stretched across her face asked why he had drunk all and left no friendly drop to help her after.

“I know you can, Jim. We’re going to find a way to save Arcadia. But you can’t fix me. At this point, I’m not sure if anyone can.”

“That’s why you kept saying you were fine,” Jim said.

Then he turned away from her and the books and started coughing into his hand.

Claire screamed his name and rushed to face him. Jim pulled his hand away from his mouth. It was covered in blackened blood.

“Well, looks like we’re on more of a deadline than we thought,” he said.

Claire took a deep breath, and then another.

“Morgana actually gave me two cures,” she said, and put a hand up when Jim started to protest why she hadn’t mentioned it. “I didn’t tell you about the second one because that one won’t work for me, and I think she knew that. She probably got her reasoning wrong, but it doesn’t matter. It’ll work for you, though. I think.”

“What is it?”

“True love’s kiss,” Claire said, and every word felt like pulling out a serrated knife she had become numb to. “I hope it doesn’t have to be mutual, or if does have to be mutual it doesn’t have to be romantic, because then Blinky or I can just kiss you and you’ll be okay.”

“Wait, what?” Jim asked.

“Then again, the last Morgana-related magic we used was the antidote for the Creeper’s Sun, and the true love’s kiss for that had to be romantic, so it was only Toby’s tears that would have worked. Hopefully the magic behind changeling-created-potions works differently than the curse we’re both now under.”

“You still love me?”

Inky tears filled her eyes before Claire could stop them, and she lowered to the ground, so she wouldn’t have to stumble around blindly. She wrapped her arms around herself like she could shield herself from her own emotions with them.

“I didn’t want it to end,” she said between sobs. “I just thought you’d be better off without me...”

“Is it okay if I hold you?” Jim asked, and she nodded, trying to make her arms fall limp at her sides. Jim curled around her, and she was unable to restrain herself from wrapping her arms around his torso.

“I didn’t want you to know,” Claire sobbed, ignoring the way she was ruining his shirt. “I didn’t want you to feel bad when you figured out that you didn’t love me anymore because I wasn’t worth loving, and that’s half of why I left like that and have been trying to push you away when you’ve been trying to help me.” She took a shuddering breath.

“Claire, I never stopped loving you, not really,” Jim said. “I tried to convince myself that I didn’t, and I tried to convince myself that I hated you, but I couldn’t do either of those things.”

“But why? Why me?” Claire lifted her head, hoping she was making a good approximation of looking Jim in the eyes. “I’m not who I used to be.” I’m a million miles from the girl who tried to be perfect.

“Neither am I.”

“But that’s different, you don’t petrify an entire town and block out everyone’s memories because you just want to disappear.” The words were spilling out of her like the blood that had come out of her mouth when Blinky had performed a Heimlich maneuver on her. “You’re still you inside. I’m an empty shell that’s filled with nothing but self-loathing. And I guess cursed blood, too.”

“Claire, I…” Jim held her a little more tightly. “I can’t fix you because I don’t know how, but you’re so much more than that. And just because you don’t love yourself doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

Claire felt him brush the side of his face right next to hers, silently asking permission. She turned and softly kissed him on the lips.

The taste of blood faded from her mouth, and the scent of it faded from her nose. Her veins relaxed back into her skin.

Jim’s phone rang once, twice, a third time. They ignored it.

“Jimbo, you’re almost as bad as Eli because I somehow just got about a thousand texts and voicemails from you all at the same time!” Toby shouted through Jim’s voicemail.

#jlaire #claire nuñez #jim lake jr #notenrique #morgana #blinky #body horror #blood tw #tales of arcadia #trollhunters #my writing #rebelliouswhirlpool

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yuckitup-jwd · 5 years

Text

Historical people answer the question - Why did the chicken cross the road?

Douglas Adams: Forty-Two

Earnest Angsley: To be HAYELED! in the name o'Jayeeezus!

Marcus Antonius: The evil that chickens do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones.

Any Philosophy 101 Professor: Why not?

Any Calculus Professor: The road, if expressed in the form (y2-y1)/(x2-x1) is approximate for cases where lim(y2-y1)/(x2-x1) as (x2-x1) -> 0, is represented by the derivative, or rate of change, of the road with respect to the chicken, such that the value of the chicken may be assumed equal to the value of (y2-y1)/(x2-x1), for small values of roads.

Jane Austen: Because it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single chicken, being posessed of a good fortune and presented with a good road, must be desirous of crossing.

Aristotle: To actualize its potential.

Neil Armstrong: One small step for chickenkind, one giant leap for poultry.

Arthur, King of the Britons: What do you mean? African or European chickens?

Paul Atreidies: What name have you for the chicken shaped stain upon your road? That shall be the name that you shall call me!

Lord Baden-Powell: Because as a Chicken Scout, it needed the Road-Crossing Merit Badge.

Bilbo Baggins: Oh what I wouldn't give to back in my nice, warm Hobbit-hole! I hope I never have to lay eyes on such a thing as that chicken again!

Baldrick: It had a cunning plan.

The Band: To take a load off....

The Bandit, in The Treasure of The Sierra Madre: "Chickens? Chickens? We don't need no stinkin' chickens!"

Clive Barker: He was drawn to the road, and he didn't so much cross the road as the road crossed him. And once across, the chicken entered into a frightening void, filled only with the screams of a thousand agonized souls. The hands of doom reached out of the blackness, strangling the chicken, smothering him, suffocating him. He could not escape, as no one who crosses the road can escape. He was now a prisoner of the Cenobytes, doomed to an eternity of pain.

Roseanne Barr: Urrrrrp. What chicken?

The Beatles: To be free as a bird!

Lavrenti Beria (ex-head of the KGB): This is a State Secret -- we have informants everywhere.

Bill The Cat Ack. Thpppbt

Blackadder: Queenie: Because I told it to. Percy: To acquire a hunk of purest green Lord Flasheart: To DOOOOOOOOO IT!

Lucien Bouchard: So that it could be SEPARATE!

Ben Bova: To be reunited with beautiful grey-eyed Athena, the woman he has loved for all of time

Brisco (Law and Order): For A Bagel

Bruce, Bruce, Bruce, Bruce, Bruce and Bruce: To grab a Fosters and get away from the poofters!

Buddha: If you ask this question, you deny your own chicken-nature.

Archie Bunker: I don't care what them there chickens do, as long as they stay on THEIR side of the street!

Bugs Bunny: What's up, cluck?

Robert Burns: Fair Fa Your Honest Sonsie Face Great Chieftain O' The Chicken Race The blackened road 'ahind ye said Ye best run quick ere ye be deid!

George Bush: If it did it was out of the loop

George Bush: (again) It could see the thousand points of headlights....

Rhett Butler: Frankly my dear, it didn't give a damn!

C3PO (1): Sir, may I remind you that I am fluent in 6,000,000 forms of communication and this chicken has not... shutting up, sir.

C3PO (2): Sir, according to my calculations, the odds of a chicken successfully navigating a road are 3,750 to 1 against.

Caesar: It came, it saw, it crossed.

Joseph Campbell: In primitive cultures, we can find many such examples of the chicken motif that cannot be dismissed as mere coincidence. For instance, I am reminded of an old Navajo legend in which a buffalo crosses a stream to "come" to the other side -- an obvious negative language devised to prepare tribesmen for a transcendental experience. Similarly, the Hindus believe in savanaya, or a sacred cow that leaps over a chasm on Thursdays. Through metaphorical interpretation, we are led to realize that all examples suggest an attainable higher state of consciousness like that of Nietzsche's ubermench, or superman, as outlined in his novel "Thus Spoke Zarathustra."

Albert Camus: Seeing that an indifferent world lied on all sides of the road, the chicken knew it would be absurd not too cross, and for that moment, the chicken knew what it was to really be alive. It was if the bird had been asleep its entirely up until this choice was put before him. So, with a newfound determination and a smile, the chicken valiently crossed the road only to be put out of its mercy by an eighteen wheeler.

Candide: To cultivate its garden.

Johnny Carson: Let me tell you, it was so cold at that farm... Ed McMahon: How cold was it? Johnny Carson: It was so cold, that the chickens were mugging the sheep to get wool for sweaters!

Raymond Chandler: Across these mean streets a chicken must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid. He is the hero; he is everything. He must be a complete chicken and a common chicken and yet an unusual chicken. He must be, to use a rather weathered phrase, a chicken of honor - by instinct, by inevitability, withough thought of it, and certainly without saying it. He must be the best chicken in his world and a good enough chicken for any world.

Charlie X: Because it didn't want to STAY....STAY....STAY....STAY....STAY...

Cheech (or Chong): Just to be there, man.

The Chicken: I am crossing the road to block traffic as a protest against ..." (thump).

Commander Chikotay: I'm not sure but I can find out. That chicken is my animal spirit guide.

Noam Chomsky: To manufacture consent

Tom Clancy: The Mark 84 gargleblaster that the chicken carried, at the heart of which was an inferior ex-Soviet excimer laser system, had insufficient range to allow the chicken to carry out its mission from this side of the road.

John Cleese From Fawlty Towers: Manuel from Barcelona: "Que?" Basil: "You know, a chicken crossing the road...." Manuel: "Que?" Basil: [looking it up in a dictionary], "Un Pollo..." Manuel: interrupting, "No, No we out of chicken.." * WHAP!!*

John Cleese: Because it was very silly.

John Cleese: (again) This isn't a chicken license, you know! It's a dog license with the word "Dog" crossed out and "Chicken" written in in crayon.

John Cleese: (#3) This Chicken is no more. It has ceased to function. Bereft of life, it rests in peace. It's a stiff. If it wasn't nailed to the road it'd be pushing up daisies. It's snuffed it. It's metabolic processes are now history. It's bleeding demised. It's rung down the curtain, shuffled off the mortal coil and joined the bleeding Choir Invisible. This is an Ex-Chicken.

Bill Clinton: What?

Bill Clinton (again): The chicken was persuaded to cross the road by the Democratic congress. It is now returning to the middle of the road

Joseph Conrad: Mistah Chicken, he dead.

John Constantine: Because it'd made a bollocks of things over on this side of the road and figured it'd better get out right quick.

Alastair Cooke: Good Evening, and welcome to Masterpiece Theatre. Tonight, we present the epic British drama "How The Chicken Went," based on the 1843 novel by Herbert T. Poultry, and adapted for the screen by Joanna Drumstick. Starring Susan Hampshire as the Chicken, and Anthony Hopkins as the evil and unrepentant diner, Borstrom, this elegant period piece explores the mores and morality of a society in which ordinary chickens had to face their destiny of crossing the road to meet their fate at the hands of the monied upper classes, regardless of their own ambitions or desires...

Shiela Copps (Deputy Prime Minister of Canada): BECAUSE I SCREAMED AT IT REAL LOUD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sheila Copps: Okay, I know that the chicken promised it would cross the road if the Liberals failed to eliminate the GST, but it was a stupid promise to make and the chicken deeply regrets ever making it. However, the chicken will not be crossing the road because to do so would cost tax payers $500,000.

Sheila Copps (a few days later): Alright! Alright! The chicken will cross the road like it promised. But it'll be right back again. Now leave me alone.

Howard Cosell: It may very well have been one of the most astonishing events to grace the annals of history. An historic, unprecendented avian biped with the temerity to attempt such an herculean achievement formerly relegated to homo sapien pedestrians is truly a remarkable occurrence.

Jacques Ives Cousteau: Zee cheecken, unaware of zee dangare beehind heem, crosses zee street. Weezout warning, zee Porsche strikes, and zee balance of zee nature ees maintained.

Stephen R. Covey: When the chicken and the road can work together for the win-win, the result is synergy!

Jean Cretien, Prime Minister of Canada: "It wasn't a chicken, you know, it was an Inuit carving of a loon. But the RCMP should have been there anyway..."

Aleister Crowley: Because it was its True Will to do so.

Salvador Dali: The Fish.

Stephanie Daniels: It was the turtle's day off.

Darwin: It was the logical next step after coming down from the trees.

Commander Data: I do not know. Although I have compared all of my 437 billion data points relating to chickens and roads, there is no possitive correlation between the two.

W. Edwards Demming: But is one chicken crossing one road of statistical importance? Only once we have established an historical baseline of chickens with respect to roads, with calculated upper and lower control limits, can we make that determination.

Arthur Dent: Are you sure the chicken is from Beetelgeuse, and not from Gilford after all?

Jacques Derrida: Any number of contending discourses may be discovered within the act of the chicken crossing the road, and each interpretation is equally valid as the authorial intent can never be discerned, because structuralism is DEAD, DAMMIT, DEAD!

Rene Descartes: It had sufficient reason to believe it was dreaming anyway.

Descartes (again): The chicken was merely a machine and was crossing due to the deterministic nature of the universe.

Emily Dickinson: Because it could not stop for death.

Bob Dole: Do you know that before that chicken had gotten across the road, its cellular phone was ringing and there was a lawyer on the other end asking if it would like to sue the city for not putting up a traffic light.

Bob Dylan: How many roads must a chicken travel down, before they call him a man?

E.T.: Chicken, phone home

Ecclesiastes (1): For every fowl, there is a season. A time for garlic, a time for sage...

Ecclesiastes (2): This bird is meaningless.

Wyatt Earp: Well, chicken, are you gonna do something, or just stand there and bleed?

Eeyore: If it did. Which I doubt. Not that it matters.

Albert Einstein: Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road crossed the chicken depends on your frame of reference.

T.S. Eliot: It's not that they cross, but that they cross like chickens.

Harlan Ellison: Because he had no beak and must scream.

Emergency Medical Holographic Doctor on U.S.S. Voyager: Maybe it was trying to state the nature of a medical emergency.

Ralph Waldo Emerson: It didn't cross the road; it transcended it.

Epicurus: For fun.

Basil Fawlty: Oh, don't mind that chicken. It's from Barcelona.

Sybil Fawlty: BASIL! Why is there a CHICKEN in my hotel?

Dr. Johnny Fever: To escape from the Phone Cops!

Fiver (from Watership Down): Don't you see it? The sky has turned to blood, the field has turned to fire... THE CHICKENS! DON'T YOU SEE THE CHICKENS?

Gerald R. Ford: It probably fell from an airplane and couldn't stop its forward momentum.

Sigmund Freud: The chicken obviously was female and obviously interpreted the pole on which the crosswalk sign was mounted as a phallic symbol of which she was envious, selbstverstaendlich.

Robert Frost: To cross the road less traveled by.

Barney Fyfe: Now Andy, let me tell you a thing or two about chickens. Chickens cross roads in those other counties, but not here in Mayberry. No chicken crosses no roads in Mayberry without Deputy Fyfe knowing about it!

Gandalf: O chicken, do not meddle in the affairs of roads, for you are tasty and good with barbecue sauce.

Bill Gates: For the money

Frank Bunker Gilbereth: To minimize its therbligs

Jim Gillis: The chicken crossed the road to show the gophers it could be done.

Newt Gingrich: To get to the RIGHT side of the road.

Newt Gingrich (again): The chicken had to cross the road, because, bogged down by the incredible debt burden, it was no longer able to fly.

Newt Gingrich (III): It was safety pinned to one of those damn punk rockers!

Ira Glasser (ACLU): The chicken maintains an absolute privacy interest in information as to whether or why he or she may have perambulated the thoroughfare.

Johann Wolfgang v. Goethe: The eternal hen-principle made it do it.

Sir Charles Grandiose: As surely as the golden hairs turn to silver, as surely as the sands drift silently through the slender neck of the hourglass, the last sunny days of summer flee soundlessly under autumn's chilly embrace. And with those last days of that warmest and most joyful of seasons, left the road's edge the sprightliest young chicken ever a Baronet did see

Hercules Gryptyppe-Thynne, (All-around Public-School Cad): That's not a chicken! It's a clever disguise, inside of which is Count Jim "Thighs" Moriarity.....

Gary Gygax: Because I rolled a 64 on the "Chicken Random Behaviors" chart on page 497 of the Dungeon Master's Guide.

Hamlet: Because 'tis better to suffer in the mind the slings and arrows of outrageous road maintenance than to take arms against a sea of oncoming vehicles.

Thomas Hardy: The road was black, the sky was white (and so were the feathers) as the bright red mark on the top of the chicken's head gleamed in the twilight. It was a pure chicken and it was doomed.

Mike Harris, (Premier of Ontario): Like evrything else in this province, it was facing the axe.

Paul Harvey: And now... page two... a chicken... attempts to cross... the street... yes... the street... and is... run down by a... Buick! The Buick Roadmaster with it's powerful perfomance and elegant style! Yes... that poor chicken... hit by the Buick... it's true... it's... true... and speaking of true... your local True Value Hardware Store...

Hegel: Only through the synthesis of the dialectical chicken and road could the spirit transcend the experience of crossing.

Robert Heinlein: Because with the freedom the chicken was given, it was the chicken's responsibility to do so.

Robert Heinlein (again): The more widely dispersed chickens are throughout the Universe, the better the long-term prospects for the survival of the chicken species.

Werner Heisenberg: We are not sure which side of the road the chicken was on, but it was moving very fast.

Ernest Hemingway: To die. In the rain.

Hippocrates: Because of an excess of light pink gooey stuff in its pancreas.

Doug Hofstadter: To seek explication of the correspondence between appearance and essence through the mapping of the external road-object onto the internal road-concept.

Sherlock Holmes: It crossed the road because it was going to catch a train at Victoria Station at 3:15, to Edinburgh. And how did I know that? Observe, Watson, the patina of dust on the chicken's feathers, which indicates that it had been spending time in a library, reading about Scotland. And observe also that it was humming "Bonnie Lassie" as it waited to cross. Finally, and most important, observe the train ticket marked Edinburgh, stuffed under one wing, and the fact that Victoria station was where the chicken crossed the street, and finally that the only train to Edinburgh this afternoon is the 3:15....

David Hume: Out of custom and habit.

Saddam Hussein: This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were quite justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it.

Lee Iacocca: It found a better car, which was on the other side of the road.

Dr. Jack Van Impe: Well you see, here's the really exciting part, if we were to look at Revelation 17:3 we will see that the Whore of Babylon rides on a scarlet beast. A scarlet beast! What this means is a Rhode Island Red. And the truly glorious thing is that this beast, this Rhode Island Red, this CHICKEN has crossed the road EXACTLY as was prophesized in the Bible and this is all a sign, Revelation 17:3, that we're living in the End Time. Hallelujah! And if you would like more information on the significance of this chicken crossing the road as all part of God's great plan then send me $50 and you will recieve this set of video tapes along with a copy of my recent book "Chickens: fowl beast, or foul beast?".

John Paul Jones: It has not yet begun to cross!

Carl Jung: The confluence of events in the cultural gesalt necessitated that individual chickens cross roads at this historical juncture, and therefore synchronicitously brought such occurrences into being.

Franz Kafka: Dieter, now in the form of a chicken, was running from the government's torture machine. The machine, an instrument of death, slowly obliterated the souls of its victims. Dieter was alone. He was running for his life, his insignificant life.

Immanuel Kant: The pure transcendental concept of the road, having been deduced a priori and without dependence on intuitions, is given in the mode of the chicken as an end in itself, while crossing the road as a hypothetical imperative, namely, as acting towards some end allowed by Reason.

Casey Kasem: And now here's a hot new number from a hot young band whose drummer was so tragically killed in a freeway accident, it's The Hen House Flock singing "When You Gonna Crow?" hitting the charts at number 23!

JFK: The chicken chose to cross the road in this decade not because it was easy, but because it was hard.

Obi Wan Kenobi: To follow old obi wan on some damn fool idealistic crusade.

Jack Kerouac: The chicken hipster, high on tea and the soul groves of Charlie (the bird) Parker, strolled aimlessly on the road looking for his dharma.

Soren Kierkegaard: The chicken is dead. The road is nothing.

Colonel Kilgore: "I love the smell of chickens in the morning"

Martin Luther King: It had a dream.

James Tiberius Kirk: To boldly go where no chicken has gone before.

Ralph Klein: Because we gave it a one-way bus ticket to B.C.

Mark Knophler: How come Chickens got Industrial Disease?

Mark Lane: There is new, irrefutable evidence that the chicken did not act alone.

Gary Larson: Don't ask me. I am retired. Stan Laurel: I'm sorry, Ollie. It escaped when I opened the run.

Timothy Leary: Because that's the only kind of trip the Establishment would let it take.

John Le Carre: Because it knew, at the core of its being where none could ever reach, that its only course of action now that its cover was blown wide open was to try and slip away into the grey, foggy, bleak evening before Smiley came, accompanied by his silent shadow Peter Guillam, asking questions for which there could never be answers.

Dr. Hannibal Lector: So I could eat its liver, with some fava beans and a nice chianti .......thththththththth.

Leda: Are you sure it wasn't Zeus dressed up as a chicken? He's into that kind of thing, you know.

Foghorn Leghorn: To get to that damn Dawg, Boah!

Gottfried Von Leibniz: In this best possible world, the road was made for it to cross.

Vladimir Lenin: It is not the chicken's road. It is the PEOPLE'S road!

David Letterman: And the No. 1 reason - fricasee!

Rush Limbaugh: Beacuse of those damn bleeding heart liberals, trying to save one stupid bird while thousands of jobs are being lost. Dave Lister: Because of the smegging space corps directives.

Any Late Evening News Anchor: The chicken crosses the road. Film at 11:00.

Abraham Lincoln: Fourscore and seven eggs ago, our forefeathers...

Logan (Law and Order): To buy a plaid tie

Jack London: To answer the call of the wild.

H.P. Lovecraft: To futilely attempt escape from the dark powers which even then pursued it, hungering after the stuff of its soul!

George Lucas: Because the Force was with it.

Machiavelli: So that its subjects will view it with admiration, as a chicken which has the daring and courage to boldly cross the road, but also with fear, for whom among them has the strength to contend with such a paragon of avian virtue? In such a manner is the princely chicken's dominion maintained.

Marvin (the paranoid android): "Here I am, brain the size of a planet, and you ask me why the chicken crossed the road? I could tell you, but I really don't think it's worth while."

Marvin the Paranoid Android: Here I am, brain the size of a planet, and what do they ask me? Why did the chicken cross the road? As if their pathetic cerebelums could even comprehend my answer. Chickens, don't talk to me about chickens... they're SO depressing.

Karl Marx: It was a historical inevitability.

Karl Marx (again): To escape the bourgeois middle-class struggle.

Groucho Marx: Chicken? What's all this talk about chicken? Why, I had an uncle who thought he was a chicken. My aunt almost divorced him, but we needed the eggs.

Groucho Marx (again): This morning I shot a chicken in my pyjamas -- and lemme tell ya, that chicken ran out of my pyjamas in a second!

Jackie Mason: Whaddaya want, it should just stand there?

Perry Mason: Cross the road you say? But how can you be sure? No one else would have known the chicken crossed the road except for the real killer!

Dr. McCoy: How should I know? Damnit Jim, I'm a Doctor not an ornithologist!

Marshall McLuhan: The Road is the Medium. The chicken is the Message!

Gregor Mendel: To get various strains of roads.

A.A. Milne: I imagine that if I thought very hard I shouold come up with a reason. (also applicable to Winnie the Pooh)

John Milton: To justify the ways of God to men.

Indigo Montoya: It too pursues a man with six fingers on his left hand.

Michael Moriarity: To annoy Janet Reno.

Jim Morrison: To break on thruough to the other side, I am the chicken king

Ralph Nader: A chicken on a road is unsafe at any speed

Sir Isaac Newton: Chickens at rest tend to stay at rest. Chickens in motion tend to cross the road.

Jack Nicholson: 'Cause it (censored) wanted to. That's the (censored) reason.

Nietzsche: Because if you gaze too long across the Road, the Road gazes also across you.

Col. Oliver North: I do not recall any such events. I had no knowledge of these occurrences.

Peter Norton: It was a virus and it saw me coming...

Richard Nixon: That part of our conversation was accidentally erased.

George Orwell: Because Big Brother was watching to make sure that it did cross the road, although in its heart, the chicken never did.

Thomas Paine: Out of common sense.

Michael Palin: Nobody expects the banished inky chicken!

Emporer Palpatine: Foolish chicken! Only now, at the end, do you see the head-lights!

Dorothy Parker: Travel, trouble, music, art / A kiss, a frock, a rhyme / The chicken never said they fed its heart / But still they pass its time.

Patsy: Oh, F*&% the chicken. Run it over and lets have a drink.

Gen. George S. Patton: To get those yellow bellied chickens outta here.

General George S. Patton (again): The way to win a war is not to cross a road for you country. The way to win a war is to make some OTHER poor chicken cross a road for HIS COUNTRY!

Wolfgang Pauli: There already was a chicken on the other side of the road.

Frank Perdue: How the heck do I know? Do I look like a chicken to you -- don't answer that.

Marlin Perkins, on Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom: Watch, as the chicken mauls Jim yet again...

H. Ross Perot: I'm crossing. I'm not crossing....

H. Ross Perot2: Crossing the road is that chickens primary concern! PRIMARY concern!

H. Ross Perot3: Chickens and roads, I'll tell ya what it means! It means 4 trillion dollars of dafficit, it means the end of our infrastructure, it means... look at this chart!

H. Ross Perot4: Let me tell ya, it's all about NAFTA. This chicken represents your job, and this road represents the Mexican border...

Jean-Luc Picard: To see what's out there.

Jean-Luc Picard (again): Because it's shields were down and it had no other options left...

Piglet: Because ch-ch-chickens are such very s-s-s-small animals.

Plato: For the greater good.

Edgar Allan Poe: Quoth the chicken,"Nevermore!"

Emily Post: When a chicken is confronted with a road, it is only proper for the chicken to stand erect, turn to face the road, look both ways and cross... remembering to send a sincere thank you letter within one month of the event.

Elvis Presley: You aint nothin' but a chicken, crossin' all the roads!

Psalms: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no road!

Pyrrho the Skeptic: What Road?

Monty Python: For Something Completely Different

Dan Quayle: "chicken" C-H-I-K-E-N "chicken"

The Red Queen: Who cares? Off with it's head!

R2D2: beep bleep be deep birp whirrrrrrrrr!

The White Rabbit: It was late!

Ayn Rand: The chicken crossed the road in order to get away from the flock that is stifling his creativity.

Ayn Rand (again): If not for the intransigently independent vision of that first chicken, none of the other chickens would have been able to cross the road. And they condemned him for his acheivement!

Ronald Reagan: I don't recall. What was the question?

Georg Friedrich Riemann: The answer appears in Dirichlet's lectures.

Pat Riley: The chicken crossed the lane in less than 3 seconds, so a "fowl" should not have been called.

Rimmer: Aliens!!!

General Jack D. Ripper: To maintain the purity of its precious bodily fluids.

Geraldo Rivera: Stay tuned as a panel of chickens reveals the shocking truth.

Tom Robbins: Well you see, that chicken was a special chicken who was a descendent of a parrot family that once built pyramids for tourist pharohs. This chicken liked the other side of the road whose shamanic whispers beckoned Anastasia, the parrot, like the popped cherry of a ritually consumated white wedding. That's the meaning of it all, baby!

Oral Roberts: He couldn't raise the $10,000,000.00 so God called him home.

Oral Roberts (again): And I said to the chicken: "Put your claw on the screen! Put your claw on the screen, upon the hand of Brother Oral, and you shall be healed. Make a love offering of $50 or more, and then touch the screen. And that chicken did put his claw on the screen. And the power of God, in his infinite wisdom and mercy, flowed through me and out through that television set, and that chicken was healed *PRAISE GOD!*. And then that chicken, stricken for so many months, rose up and walked across the road. But, since he had forgotten his love offering, God never warned him about the 30 ton semi barreling down on the crosswalk...."

Carl Sagan: To see the billions and billions of stars.

Col. Saunders: It Ran, Suh! I offered it a coating of 11 herbs and spices and it ran, Suh! So I shot it, Suh, shot it while it was trying to escape, suh!

Sappho: For the touch of your skin, the sweetness of your lips..

Jean-Paul Sartre: In order to act in good faith and be true to itself, the chicken found it necessary to cross the road.

Arnold Schwarzenegger: It was going back...

Mr. Scott: 'Cos ma wee transporter beam was na functioning properly. Ah canna work miracles, Captain, wi' no dilithium crystals left to speak of!

Agent Scully: There simply must be a rational, scientific explanation. Chickens don't just "cross roads"

Neddy Seagoon: WhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatWHAT?

William Shakespeare:

1: This is the road of chicken's discontent, Made ignoble abbatoir by this half-ton truck... (Richard II)

2: Bring me no more reports, let them fly all; 'Til a chicken remove to other side of road I cannot taint with fear. What is this chicken? Was he not born of hen? The spirits that know All fowl consequences have pronounced me thus: "Fear not, MacNugget; no chicken that's born of hen Shall e'er lay beak upon thee." (Macbeth)

3: If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly: if the crossing Could scoot across the dotted line, and catch, Beyond passing car, sidewalk; that but these feathers Might be the be-all and end-all here, But here, at this corner of street and avenue, We'd cross at the light to come. (Macbeth)

4: To cross, or not to cross? That is the question, Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The wheels and axles of the city's mass transit Or to take flight against a sea of motorists And by opposing, end me? To cross, to peep No more! And by that peep to say we end The chickhood and the thousand fender-shocks That chicken is heir to. 'Tis a perambulation Devoutly to be wish'd. (Hamlet)

Homer Simpson: ohhhhhhhh Chicken.....

Bart Simpson: It's outta here, man!

Mrs. Slocum: Now look what you've done, there's chicken all over my pussy!

Kenneth Starr: In view of President Clinton's dealings with the Tyson Poultry Company, the matter of the chicken crossing the road is under investigation for its possible connection with the Whitewater affair.

George Steinbrenner: Because I offered him a $4 million contract.

George Steinbrenner2: Because I fired him!

George Steinbrenner3: Because he's now my new manager.

George Steinbrenner4: Because I fired him again!

Dr. Suess: See the end of this document for the full Dr. Suess version.

Sisyphus: Was it pushing a rock, too?

B.F. Skinner: Because the external influences which had pervaded its sensorium from birth had caused it to develop in such a fashion that it would tend to cross roads, even while believing these actions to be of its own free will.

Mr. Spock: It was not logical for the chicken to do so, but I have frequently observed that the behaviour of chickens is not logical

E.E. (Doc) Smith: Your humble narrator can barely do justice to this climactic event that rent asunder the fundamental ether of space itself, as the chicken, embodying all that is good and hard and straight and keen in the Avain world, fearlessly approached, bridged, and conquered the road for Civilization.

Socrates: To pick up some hemlock at the corner druggist.

The Sphinx: You tell me.

Joseph Stalin: It was clearly a conspiracy. Take all the chickens out and shoot them. At Once!

John Steinbeck: The road baked in the relentless summer sun as the chicken, looking about, began to cross. It stopped occaisionally to peck at a grass seed that had become lodged in a crevice in the cracked macadam. The chicken reached the other side, then began making his way to the Salinas, which lay muddy and turgid in the July afternoon, all the while thinking of the cool shade by the river and how good the can of beans in his bedroll would taste tonight.

Ben Stone (Law and Order): Because the defendant made it, sir.

Oliver Stone: He went back, and to the left. Back, and to the left. Back, and to the left. Back, and to the left. Back, and to the left. Back, and to the..

Dr. Strangelove: Because it could not afford to be caught on the wrong side of the road-side gap.

John Sununu: The Air Force was only too happy to provide the transportation, so quite understandably the chicken availed himself of the opportunity.

Grand Moff Tarkin: Fear will keep the chickens in line, fear of this thoroughfare!

Tim "The Toolman" Taylor: This here bird'll cross that road in no time flat, now that I've made a few "special modifications! We've added the Binford 7100 Multi-Purpose power unit, which I've souped up by adding a United Aircraft PT-6 jet engine - Urrgh urrgh urrgh! Heidi, bring out the chicken, please....

Alfred, Lord Tennyson: So that it could sail beyond the sunset.

Old Testament: And rooster and hen were married. And rooster did begat chicken. And chicken did cross the road.

New Testament: He among you who has not crossed roads, let him cast the first egg!

Margaret Thatcher: There was simply no alternative!

Theodoric of York, the Medievil Barber: Because of an imbalance of bodily humors caused by an elf or small toad living in the chicken's stomach. What this fowl needs is a good bleeding. Dylan Thomas: To not go (sic) gentle into that good night.

Hunter S. Thompson: Why the &*%$#@ not?

Henry David Thoreau: To live deliberately ... and suck all the marrow out of life.

Tiggr: Because that's what chickens do best!

Tiggr: (again) That's the wonderful thing about Chickens, Chasing Chickens is FUN FUN FUN, And the Wonderful thing about Chickens Is that when crossing streets they RUN!

Tim, the Enchanter: It's got wings that... and a beak that... good god man, look at the bones!

Brian Tobin (new premier of Newfoundland): It followed the cod....

J.R.R. Tolkein: The chicken, sunlight coruscating off its radiant yellow- white coat of feathers, approached the dark, sullen asphalt road and scrutinized it intently with its obsidian-black eyes. Every detail of the thoroughfare leapt into blinding focus: the rough texture of the surface, over which count- less tires had worked their relentless tread through the ages; the innumerable fragments of stone embedded within the lugubrious mass, perhaps quarried from the great pits where the Sons of Man labored not far from here; the dull black asphalt itself, exuding those waves of heat which distort the sight and bring weakness to the body; the other attributes of the great highway too numerous to give name.

Thomas de Torquemada: Give me ten minutes with the chicken and I'll find out.

Anthony Trollope: Why, to avoid Mrs. Proudy and Mr. Slope, of course.

Mark Twain: The news of its crossing has been greatly exaggerated.

Darth Vader: Because it could not resist the power of the Dark Side.

George Washington: I cannot tell a lie. I was going to chop it with my little axe, so it crossed the road.

Mae West: 'Cause I invited it to come up and see me sometime.

Jerry White: Why does a chicken cross the road only half-way? So she can lay it on the line.

Walt Whitman: To cluck the song of itself.

Robert Anton Wilson: Because agents of the Ancient Illuminated Roosters of Cooperia were controlling it with their Orbital Mind-Control Lasers as part of their master plan to take over the world's egg production.

Major Charles Emerson Winchester, the Third: What do you two-bit quacks know about chickens? Did you learn about them in medical school, or did you just read the comic book?

Ludwig Wittgenstein: The possibility of "crossing" was encoded into the objects "chicken" and "road," and circumstances came into being which caused the actualization of this potential occurrence.

Wittgenstein #2: There are indeed things that cannot be put into words. They make themselves manifest. They are what is mystical.

Wittgenstein #3: What we cannot explain we must pass over in silence.

Tom Wolfe: Kesey, muscles rippling under his shirt, a mysterious smile on his face, surrounded by the Merry Pranksters, placed the chicken at the road's edge. The chicken paused at the edge of the road, looking this way and that, and then rending the air with a tremendous, "ba-BAAWWWWKKK!" bolted across the road, its disheveled wings flapping uselessly about, leaving a trail of feathers and dander that, whenever two-ton chromium steel, 300 horsepower tail-finned symbols of Detroit's and America's supremacy passed, would swirl in a miniature version of a cyclone like the ones Mr. and Mrs. America see on the TV news every evening when he's come home from work and she's setting the table for dinner, both only half paying attention to the cyclones that devastate midwestern cow towns on sweltering summer afternoons. And the heat, dander, tornados, asphalt, tail-fins and the sweat of Mr. and Mrs. America as they move mechanically in their daily routine like the figurines in one of those huge medieval clocks on some cathedral in some European town, moving in the same way, every hour on the hour, it was all summed up by the "ba-BAAWWWWKKK!" of a scampering chicken accompanied by the "skritch, skritch" of its feet.

William Wordsworth: To have something to recollect in tranquility.

Mr. Worf: I do not know, Klingon chickens do NOT cross the road.

Molly Yard: It was a hen!

Yoda: Crossing the road makes not a chicken great

Henny Youngman: Take this chicken ... please.

Zeno of Elea: To prove it could never reach the other side.

STAR TREK CHICKENS CROSS THE ROAD TOO

Chakotay: Whatever its reason, whatever its goals, we should respect its right to cross the road and seek its own spiritual awareness.

Neelix: Actually, Captain, I'm not really familiar with the chickens in this system. But--if you can catch it, I can cook it.

Riker: I don't know why, but I do know how: with pleasure, sir.

Garak: To get to the other side? Of course not! Do you realize how ridiculous that is? I'm sure it was a simple matter of its farmer expelling it from the coop for...embezzling eggs.

Odo: I don't have the slightest idea--and I don't particularly care...but then, I've never understood you ornithoids' need to engage in such pointless behavior.

Quark: Now really, why would I have bribed him to do it so I could make a tidy profit in the station pool? Besides, all I know is that chicken tastes just like tube grubs.

Q: Wouldn't you like to know? Too bad your puny human brain wouldn't be able to comprehend the answer.

O'Brien: Well, it's nothing a good pint or two won't fix.

Uhura: Shall I open hailing frequencies so you can ask it, sir?

V'Ger: To join with the Creator.

Sulu: To get back to San Franciso; it was born there.

Troi: It was running...running away from...no, escaping...oh, Captain, it was fleeing from such -pain-!

Kira: I bet those damn Cardassians were after it!

Picard: Dammit, that's not for us to answer! It's his fundamental right as a sentient being to determine the time and manner by which he travels towards his goals!

Dr. Bashir: I suppose it wanted to play some darts.

The Grand Nagus: Stupid chicken! You don't cross the road all at once! You sneak across it quietly, without anyone noticing! (Inconceivable!)

Sisko: I don't care -why- it was crossing the road! All I want to know is -why- it left the coop! So it wanted to "get to the other side"--there is only -so far- that my tolerance will go!

Barclay: Uh, chicken?!! Where?!!! C-c-c-ommander, did I ever mention my problem with small feathered things?

Gul Dukat: Well, that's a very interesting question...I'm sure we can work out some kind of arrangement to obtain that information that will be to everyone's satisfaction.

The Borg: Crossing the road is irrelevant. It will be assimilated.

Hugh the Borg: Maybe it wanted to be my friend.

Geordi: Well, wherever it's going, I'm sure it'll be there in an hour or two--but any later, and it'll be absolutely impossible for it to make it.

Jake: To check out the babe that just came off that transport!

Gene Roddenberry: To boldly go where no chicken had gone before.

Kes: It was remembering back to the times when its ancestors crossed roads all the time! They lost those abilities because they stopped using them!

Wesley: I'm not sure, but I can figure it out if I reroute these systems and reconfigure the warp field and run a complete internal whootchacallit on the computers and...

B'Elanna: I'm sure it felt suffocated by all the [BEEP] regulations of [BEEP] Starfleet and just couldn't stand it any longer!

Worf: I don't know. KLINGON chickens do NOT cross roads.

Spock: Fasincating, Captain, it seems driven by a beam of pure energy.

HoloDoc: How should I know? No one tells me anything around here! I didn't even know we added chickens to the crew! All I know is that it would have been nice, BEFORE the chicken went off to the cross the road, if it had remembered to turn me off!

Data: The chicken, in observing that it was on the opposite side of the 20th century Terran paved roadway, was aware that its immediate goal should have been to traverse the distance without interception by an kind of combustion-propelled personal transport vehicle, but I am unclear as to why any kind of domesticated fowl should desire to perambulate upon a conveyance normally reserved for the usage of...yes, sir.

Sarek: Sometimes my logic fails me where chickens are concerned.

Dax: To get to the other side. Kurzon might have disagreed with me, Tobin I'm sure wouldn't have had a clue,and then there's...

Tuvok: That's not a question we'd prefer to hear from a senior officer. It makes the junior officers nervous.

Dr. Crusher: Maybe since he couldn't make the other side to get to him, -he- had to get to the other side....

Dr. Soran: His heart just wasn't in it. (Scenes of chicken torture with nanoprobes have been edited out.)

Scotty: Because she couldna take much morrrrrre.

Charlie X: Because it didn't want to STAY...STAY...STAY...

Kirk: You chicken bastard, you killed my son...YOU chicken BASTARD, you killed...my SON...you CHICKEN bastard....youkilledmy...son!

Bones: Dammit, I'm a doctor, not an ornithologist!

Tasha: That depends...was it fully functional?

Chekov: It must have been on its way to assist in saving my life for the billionth time..did I scream this time?

Khan: With my last breath I spit at the chicken...

Harry: I don't know, it's my first mission.

Paris: Well, I think that...say, that's a lovely shirt you're wearing.

Harvey Mudd: Chicken? I don't remember any chicken. No no no, there's been a terrible misunderstanding.

Crewman in red suit: "Captain, this chicken seems to have crossed the AAARRRGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Nurse Chapel: Oh, Spock, I fixed you your favorite Vulcan plomeek and chicken soup!

Lwaxana: Oh, Jean-Luc!

Janeway: Its primary goal was no doubt to get back to the Alpha Quadrant...and it probably misses its dog.

Dr. Suess:

Would you, could you cross the street On your two small chicken feet?

I would not, could not cross the street On my two small chicken feet. Across the road I will not scram Even though a fowl I am.

Would you cross it in Japan To flee Godzilla and Rodan

Not in Japan Godzilla and Rodan I would not, could not cross the street On my two small chicken feet. Across the road I will not scram Even though a fowl I am.

Would you cross the road and cluck And jump to avoid the speeding truck?

Not with a cluck to avoid a truck Not in Japan Godzilla and Rodan I would not, could not cross the street On my two small chicken feet Across the road I will not scram Even though a fowl I am.

Would you hop across the road As though you were a garden toad?

Not across the road as though a toad Not with a cluck to avoid a truck Not in Japan Godzilla and Rodan I would not could not cross the street On my two small chicken feet. Across the road I will not scram Even though a fowl I am.

Would you cross it in the night Lit by passing car headlight?

Not in the night With car headlight Not across the road As though a toad Not with a cluck To avoid a truck Not in Japan Godzilla and Rodan I would not could not cross the street On my two small chicken feet. Across the road I will not scram Even though a fowl I am.

Please dear chicken give it a try For across the road you can not fly.

Alright! Alright! I'll give it a try For it is true, chickens can't fly. Hey! It's not bad, infact it's neat! I truly love to cross the street. Across the road I LOVE to scram. I cross the road, a fowl I am.

#AnimalJokes #ChickenJokes #jokesonfamouspeople

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theflashdriver · 5 years

Text

Something Borrowed

This is a little something I wrote to promote Silvaze week on twitter! Tumblr hates links, but if you search ‘Silvaze week’ in twitter search you’ll for sure find the page! I maybe went a little overboard with this one, it’s pretty long at 7.3k, but I hope you enjoy. It tells the tale of Silver and Blaze searching for a new home in Crisis City and fits into the week’s “Wedding” prompt so expect little more than cute fluffiness within.

"So, what're you thinking this time?"

"I think we'll take what we can find."

"Oh, well, yeah; of course. But you know, we should probably pick one we both like, right? I think I want something like the last one, it was nice while it lasted."

"It didn't last very long though, did it?"

"… You didn't like it?"

"You're so naïve, that's not what I meant."

Blaze was walking behind Silver, the hedgehog occasionally floating off to peer at a building but consistently re-joining her on the path. On both of their backs hung rucksacks, stuffed to the brim with bedclothes, salvaged food, books and other, simple amenities and luxuries. They'd packed up most everything they owned, anything too large or wasteful left behind, and begun a search for a new residence within the bowels of Crisis city.

The first home they'd shared was fine enough for a couple of kids, the last room of a long collapsed bungalow, but they'd outgrown before Iblis could destroy it. Over the years they'd hopped from place to place, going from supermarkets to libraries but around a year ago they'd taken up residence in an old townhouse. For a while it'd been wonderful; specialised spaces for eating, sleeping and storage, but with time their presence had drawn the spawn of Iblis. They'd held them off for around a month, battering them back every other day, but the monsters had gradually worn away at their home. Gashes had opened in the walls, torn by magma claws, and soon the flaming birds had scorched holes from the roof through to the bottom floor. Giant chasms had compromised the safety of the upper floors; they'd gone from sleeping in separate bedrooms to burned mattresses atop the living room carpet. A move had become inevitable and so, rather than wait for the house to collapse around them, they'd said their goodbyes this morning and set out on a hunt.

Following the thunk of his return to the tarmac, the hedgehog was ahead of her again; looking back with a quizzical stare.

Her eyes rolled, ignoring her nostalgia for their last house, she began to explain. "Practicality is more important than comfort. As nice as a big house is, evidently it's much more of a target than a tower flat or bungalow. Finding a secure building comes first, then we can work to make it comfortable."

"I guess that's true…" Silver's eyes began to wander again, scanning the decrepit buildings that surrounded them. "It'd be nice to find somewhere to settle though, right? A constant place to rest, even if we're fighting every day."

"You're so naïve," Perhaps it was a little soon to say it again, but she couldn't stop the words from tumbling beyond her lips.

Moving house was a bizarre experience for Blaze. Once upon a time, it'd been a cataclysmic shift; the loss of a home had spelt the end of an era, being tossed from safety and into the streets. Now though, Blaze felt prepared. As she packed for their next move she couldn't help but feel excited. This wasn't an ending; more like a brand new start. Between then and now quite a lot had changed, she was older and stronger, but more important than that was the partner by her side. As long as he was there, even as they fled from a crumbling abode, she may lose a house but she'd always have her home.

Blaze had, admittedly, lost herself in thought for a moment; just catching his confused gaze before she could stumble into him. Eyes rolled once again, simply an attempt to avert her gaze and avoid embarrassing herself further. "It's not like I wouldn't like to s-settle," Did he have to use that word? It conjured images of the peaceful, almost domestic, life they'd only read about. Such foolish notions were nothing new from him, yet still, it struck a cord. "I-It's just… unrealistic, we'll always have to keep moving. Even if we find somewhere fortified it'll get worn down eventually, bricks walls can't protect against lava. "

"Oh, yeah. I guess you're right." He conceded, eyes finally returning to the path ahead. "But what about when we finally beat back Iblis for good?"

"When that happens yes, then we can think about finally…" Blaze bit back the red on her face, shaking off foolish thoughts before they could seep sink any deeper, "Settling down."

Unlike Silver, Blaze didn't often think of a world beyond this one. As much as she believed they'd end Iblis' reign, she thought it unwise to set her expectations too high. Even after that monster was defeated; society would remain in disarray, it wasn't as though crisis city would heal overnight. Rebuilding would likely take generations, so she thought it wise to focus upon their immediate problems; short-term goals like finding food and making sure he didn't work himself to death. Thus, she knew she should be focused on finding their new home, not the fluttering in her chest or the naïve ideas he was surely still dwelling upon.

Fists clenched, amber eyes scoured the surrounding buildings, most were shops; their large front windows shattered long before either of them were born. They could reinforce such holes, he'd hold a metal sheet over it and she'd weld it in place, but then their sanctuary would be cast in darkness. Making holes in such a large barrier severely weakened it. Small windows were ideal, like those in the flats above; you could board up two-thirds of it, proving cover, yet leave a hole exposed to filter in light. They were much easier to repair too. Second-floor homes were, in some ways, more vulnerable. While both of them could manage the jump to street-level, if the lower floors were infiltrated and destroyed the whole building could collapse; then they wouldn't merely lose their home but much of their belongings too. Of course, that knowledge came from experience rather than mere theory; a first-floor apartment or the likes of some kind of storehouse was the uncomfortable ideal. But, as she'd said, they'd take what they could find.

Silver had left the trail again, using his cyan glow to scan through windows; undoubtedly searching for some sort of distraction as much as he was their new home. Though she rarely admitted it aloud, only following particularly successful spars, she'd always loved how he unabashedly embraced his power. Reading a book? He'd use psychokinesis to turn the pages. Tidying up? It'd be done with a few waves of the hand. House repairs? They basically did themselves. Her power was less applicable to such mundane things, part of her still saw it as no more than a weapon, but his unintentional endeavours were winning her over. It was… almost a little inspiring, as embarrassing as that was to think.

Having thought of his power however, she was about to require its aid. She called out to him, "Silver, the road's out ahead!" It was still a little ways off, but ahead of her spanned one of the giant magma rivers that coursed through the city. The road ahead was beginning to dilapidate, harsh fissures running through it and pits of tar perpetually smoking. Living any closer to such a site was begging for trouble, the moats were a breeding ground for those monsters.

The hedgehog flit away from an impacted bank and dropped down beside her. "Alright, it looks like this area's a bust, where should we look next? Are we crossing the river or?"

"I don't recall ever crossing this one," After a moment of thought he gave an affirmative nod, "It might be worthwhile to see what's over there. There could be another survivor stronghold, that's worth checking for information even if we can't stay."

"That or more food stores, it's worth a look if nothing else." With a flick of his wrist, her rucksack removed itself from her shoulders before its straps knotted onto his. Silver's bent, arms extended; he was expecting her to hop up.

Blaze ignored the flaring of her face, wrapping an arm behind his neck before swinging her legs up into his grasp. Despite how embarrassing it was, they'd long agreed this was the most practical way of flying. If she were on his back she'd have to cling to him, with her hands filled and vision obscured she'd struggle to defend them from monsters. She felt his metal wristlet press between her knees, another on her right shoulder blade, and his fingers just beyond them; following a gentle squeeze, a blue aura encompassed their shared form. Without prompting, her tail found its way around his waist.

Soon they were airborne, first gently elevating before she heard the whirring of gathered psychic energy. They shot forward, soon their surroundings shifted from a blur of crumbling city blocks to stalagmites jutting from a body of lava. Lava dogs howled and burning serpents blindly lunged after them but neither species stood a chance of reaching. The only true obstacle was directly ahead, a flitting storm of magma wings and lashing tails was rapidly approaching; as Silver soared higher the swarm tracked their assent. Blaze brought her hands together, heat traced around her shoulders and escaped at her palms; soon a ball of fire had formed between them. As they gained altitude Blaze continued to feed the orb energy, growing it well beyond her finger's reach. Just as the first embers started to slip from her grasp they'd found themselves directly above the Iblis bat swarm, without exchanging a single word their plan had gone off without a hitch.

He stopped their movement, his psychic grasp preventing any whiplash; she paused, letting the monsters draw closer, before dropping the sphere beneath them. It drifted down slowly but, now beyond her control, the flame was pulsing and shredding its own boundaries; expanding from its condensed form. As the first of those bats blindly collided with it the restraint was fully undone; a great swirling flame fully eclipsed the burning monsters and, making use of its cover, Silver shot forward. Racing through smoke, sparks flickering off their psychic coat, they'd soon bypassed the flames and found themselves above lava dry land; the other side of the city street. A glance beyond his shoulder confirmed the remaining beasts had given up their pursuit; no hounds were tracking them by land either. She kept an eye open until their flight slowed and the river was far from sight.

Contented, a sigh slipped free from her lips; she allowed her head to rest in the crook of his shoulder. It hadn't been a particularly taxing endeavour, far from it in fact, but she told herself that taking this momentary respite was wise. It was unclear when they'd find a suitable home, their next proper rest could be hours if not days away. That and, as much as she'd ever admit it, he did make an especially good pillow.

Just as she'd gotten comfortable, her ears flicked in response to his voice, "You've gotten stronger again Blaze, I can tell. We'll beat Iblis for good soon, I can feel it!"

The feline couldn't help but smile, "As have you Silver, I remember when those bats could outpace your flight. I know you're stronger than you think."

Even through the cyan light Blaze could see the blush on his face, she couldn't help noticing how quickly his eyes had flickered back to the city ahead. While he was oblivious to most of his own embarrassing actions, she knew the hedgehog couldn't handle compliments. Blaze fully understood why he was like this. When they were small, she'd hear him struggle to compliment himself before training, shouting about how strong he was and how he'd fix the future with his own hands in an incredibly shaky and uncertain voice. However, whenever she said those same words to him the hedgehog was overjoyed; rather than struggle under the weight of his own goals. He'd always do his best, hoping to show her she was right. It was undeniably endearing, watching the glow in his eye and the red on his cheeks as he pushed himself further than he thought possible; likewise, his drive had driven her to get stronger.

"Hey, that one looks pretty good. Want to give it a closer look?"

His words pulled her from her thoughts; Blaze quickly tore her eyes from him and to the way ahead. It didn't take long to sight his selected abode, wedged between a florist and a haberdashery was a rather unsightly green door. The slot between the two buildings was thin but above it was what appeared to be two separate apartments, one atop the other, or a singular dual story apartment.

"By living in the lower floor we'd be sheltered from the flying monsters, but by being above the ground floor we'd be protected from the hounds and golems," She mused, "That's a surprisingly sensible choice."

"Oh, y-yeah. Of course," By his stutter she could tell he hadn't thought that far ahead, "I also noticed the door and windows are in good condition, that means the insides should be safe."

Feet met the ground before Silver gently set her down. The hedgehog was right, while the paint had peeled and faded with age the door stood solid before them; charring licked near its edges but hadn't reached the door's centre. Blaze went to step forward only to feel something tug near her waist, glancing back she found her tail wrapped around a befuddled Silver hedgehog. Red returned to her face, Blaze tugged her tail to follow and stepped up to the hearth; hand grasped the doorknob.

A crease quickly crossed her brow, "It's locked. Somehow, despite being abandoned for who knows how long, it's still shut tight." Having hoped to push on and hide her embarrassment, now unable, she took a few steps back; arms folded across her chest.

"Really? This place must be really safe," She heard him step forward, the whir and glow of psychokinesis soon following.

He wasn't wrong. Though most doors were still locked, the licking of flames had worked away at their frames; with no more than a shove the charcoaled wood would give way and rusty hinges would swing.

Pushing away the last of her blush, Blaze took in the surrounding city. It wasn't all untouched, many of the lower level shops had lost their doors entirely, but in comparison to their prior homes and much of the city, this place was untouched. Blaze could only compare its miraculous sanctity to a survivor settlement, but those homes had been rebuilt and had a defended perimeter. She had one theory to explain the area's good fortune; they looked to have found an upper-class area of the city. There were no corner shops or supermarkets; instead, the area was rife with clothing stores and those that specialised in luxury goods. Nowhere to buy food nor survival equipment, this had been one of the first districts to clear following Iblis' rise; without lives to snuff out, the monsters had no reason to hunt here.

"Sorry for the wait! I've finally got it." She heard the door creak open, "The lock was weird, way more complicated than the usual sort; lots of pins to push in." As if to accentuate his point the lock suddenly resealed, the latch springing out the open door. "This place seems really safe, I guess the river kept other survivors from moving here."

"It does, but I don't think we'll find much food around here." Blaze agreed, "It seems like a smart trade-off, but we'll need to see how manageable it is. Let's just see if it's as safe on the inside as it looks."

Silver nodded; using his power to disengage the lock before leading the way up, as Blaze closed the door his glowing symbols became their only light source. Time had been kind to the building but it wasn't immune to its stresses; with each creak of the stairs crumbling paintwork would harmlessly flake from the walls and ceilings. Blaze raised a hand to her muzzle to protect against the particulate and soon Silver had done the same. She'd been proven correct in her assumption, be it only for this abode, no person or monster had entered these walls since society fell. Silver came to a halt before her; she heard the groan of a door handle before the squeal hinges as he pushed another door open.

"It looks clear to me, no real damage so far." Beyond his rucksack Blaze saw his ears perk up and with them, his tail began to swish. Before he spoke she knew what he'd say. "I think I like it already…"

"Let's make certain it's secure before we set our hearts on it."

They shrugged the bags off of their shoulders, setting them by the door. As anticipated the apartment indeed had two floors, a thin set of stairs ran alongside the indoor hallway; ascending into darkness and beyond the reach of his light. Discounting the entrance there were only three doors on this floor, the one on the immediate left had been long left open Presumably there was a kitchen and some sort of living space, what the third door hid was more of an anomaly; perhaps a bedroom or a bathroom. Silver was taking it all in, using his power to neaten what'd been jostled during the evacuation. Sets of shoes, heels and slippers alike, were quickly aligned before he flipped upright a coatrack toppled long ago. Two coats still hung on it, a well-worn leather jacket and a light, mint green, cardigan with billowing sleeves.

"I guess, with all the fire, they wouldn't have been useful…"

For a moment she saw the excitement fade from his eyes, likely remembering this house hadn't always been empty. She steeled herself, reaching across to take his hand. "It looks like they made it outside, must have heard about it long before Iblis took over the city."

"Right," His smile was weaker but it had returned, "Hopefully they got away and found somewhere safe to live."

Blaze returned the expression, nodding; "We'll put what they left behind to good use, I'm sure they'd rather that than it go to waste."

That soft smile grew stronger still, "So, you think we can stay here?"

"By the looks of it so far, yes." She had to turn away as that spark fully returned to his eyes, "But it's better to be safe than sorry."

Turning from the hedgehog's joy, Blaze scanned their surroundings once more. There were picture frames on the stair wall, Silver's light reflecting off their glass and obscuring their details. Judging from the lack of light upstairs there weren't any holes in the ceiling, though a shut bedroom door could be hiding a world of damage.

She raised her free hand; following a moment's focus a bright orange flame was flickering from the tip of her forefinger. "I'll head upstairs, you check down here."

The naïve hedgehog was beaming again, stepping in much to close and squeezing her hand. "Alright, I'll give it a quick once over and head on up! If you need anything just call." He left her, chest fluttering and fire briefly spread across all her fingers.

Reigning in the glow she managed to set off, half hearing the sounds of cupboards being opened as she climbed the stairs. The teal ambience was gone, in its place a warm orange one. The stairs creaked, just like the ones before, and with every step long-settled dust spiralled up to tickle at her nose. As she passed the first picture Blaze couldn't help but take notice of it, three young girls sharing periwinkle fur and jade eyes. They were sisters most likely, with so few similarities between them they were likely triplets, no older than twelve. She ascended higher, her eyes caught the next frame; a family photo. The three sisters had returned, looking even younger, but behind them stood a squirrel who's fur matched theirs and an owl with his daughter's eyes. Though the family connection caught her eye it wasn't the first thing to; rather, that was the way they dressed. It looked to be a wedding photo and, though it was clear the parents weren't the wedding couple, the quality of the dresses was rather stunning. The daughters looked like they might be princesses, their dresses almost like ball gowns, while the mother's was long and sleek; the patterning on its upper half looked to be stitched like feathers.

As she neared the top of the stairs there was one more picture, this time depicting an extended family. All five from the prior picture were there, now dressed much more casually, but among them was another owl, an elder woman with greying feathers, and a robin with a bright red chest. It took less than a moment to notice, the owl was wearing the cardigan and the robin a leather jacket. The same outfits from the hall. This had been their home.

Blaze cast such thoughts aside, having reached the second-floor hallway. There were four doors, all but the end one closed. She pushed open the closest, a door on the right, and light filtered into the hallway. Heading inside Blaze found the room clean and barren, a large single bed at the far end of the room (its covers neatly made) and a small metal alarm clock on the bedside cabinet. The cupboards and drawers were empty, Blaze quickly understood this had been a guest room… likely one for the birds' son and his wife. Refusing to let herself dwell on that, Blaze snuffed her fingers and drew the curtains fully open; allowing the orange light of flames to properly fill the room and thus brighten the hall.

She quickly crossed to the room opposite but this time the room wasn't so empty. There were three separate beds aligned along the far wall, their bedclothes nearly made and a soft toy topping each pillow. In the corner was a plastic box filled with toys, next to it a wooden doll's house that looked to be handcrafted. As she pulled her eyes from the sight, they met with a dusty corkboard; littered with the scribbling of children, ranging from graded schoolwork to drawings of Chao and the family. A sigh escaped her lips, her imagination alight with the trio of girls playing in the room long before the end had come. They hadn't been staying here when the world ended, the family would've been separated by monsters and distance. She hoped they'd managed to reunite. Again, trying not to dwell on such thoughts, Blaze drew the curtains open; the light colourising the red roof of the toy house and the splotchy drawings on the wall. The room was safe, that was what mattered.

Quickly exiting she made her way to the last unopened door. She took a deep breath and stepped inside, this beyond the light of the hall this room was pitch black. Relighting her fingers she found herself in a bathroom, unlike the prior two rooms there'd clearly been a scramble for supplies. Much of the toiletries had fallen out of their cupboard, including a shattered cologne bottle that had long lost its scent. There was no window, frosted glass or otherwise, and thus Blaze turned toward the final room.

Undoubtedly, this room would hold the most memories. Even peering through the half-ajar door the feline could see the mess, on the immediate left was a walk in wardrobe and much of its clothing was strewn on the floor. Waving away her flames Blaze pushed inside, it was by far the messiest room. The bedclothes were scattered across the room, not a single drawer was left unopened and a picture had fallen from the bedside cabinet. She'd forgotten moving into a home was, in a lot of ways, more difficult than an old shop or restaurant. Stepping over the clothes she drew open the curtains, unlike the other rooms this had broken. The glass wasn't inside; undoubtedly one of the elders had stumbled into it during the panic.

"It's all clear down here Blaze! Rotten food in the freezer but, outside that, it shouldn't be too hard to clean up!"

Just as Blaze turned away from the window, about to call back to him, something caught her eye. Hanging on the far side of the wardrobe's door was a dress, but even by what little of the hem she could see; Blaze knew it wasn't a normal gown. More than a little hesitant she reached up, taking it by the hanger and drawing it out. It was a sleeveless white dress masked grey by dust. Its skirt was wide and long. The neckline was rather exposed, a permeable layer of silk decorated with two-dozen sewn white lilies. At the top of the hanger was a veil, moving it aside Blaze saw a note written and stuck to the hook; 'For Madelyn Argyle, due for review. To be finalised by the 22nd of March.' Had she not seen the veil Blaze might have convinced herself otherwise, but this was going to be someone's wedding dress. Two hundred years ago, the end of the world prevented Madelyn's wedding. Her dress went unused. Someone had come so close to settling, just like the family in this house. Who was it for, perhaps a relative? Maybe the parents were yet to marry? Whoever this Madelyn was, they weren't much taller than Blaze herself; the dress almost looked like a perfect fit.

Realising what she'd thought embarrassment flared, had she really just considered how she'd look in it? This had been someone's wedding dress, she couldn't just-

"Blaze? Are you alright?" Silver's shouting up the hall shook her from her thoughts; she quickly called back a reply.

"Yes! I-I'm fine Silver, I've just…" Her eyes flickered between the doorway and her dress, "Found something!"

Before she could overcome her blush, he was in the doorway, "Really, what've you fou-

The sparkle hadn't left his eye but at the sight of the dress Blaze swore it grew even brighter, he stumbled his way into the room; tripping over the piles of clothes. Glad to be rid of the thing she let him take it, turning away. "Oh wow! They managed to get another one done before the end, it looks so pretty."

"Another one?" She questioned.

"One of the rooms downstairs looks like a workshop? There are lots of different fabrics and sketches for designs. I'm pretty sure the couple who lived here made them for a living." He explained, "On the fridge, there are hundreds of photos of people in dresses like that and it's not just the ones from their family, there's way too many for that."

"I see." Despite her best efforts, Blaze's eyes had drifted back to the dress, "It's sad to think she never got to wear it, she was so close to fully settling but they had the chance stolen from them…" There that word was again; perhaps that was why the dress had struck such a cord.

It was then that the hedgehog asked the unimaginable, "Do you want to try it on?"

Cheeks flushed a warmer red, "S-Silver, this is someone's wedding dress."

"I know that, but you said it's better that we use the things people left behind. We should put it to good use." Despite the nature of his question, Silver was clearly unembarrassed. "If there was a problem with that, then we shouldn't be in a house like this, right?"

"You're so naïve." Blaze felt her temperature soar higher still, she wanted to ask why she'd ever use a dress like this but the embarrassment it would bring was just too much. She attempted to scrutinise his stare, undoubtedly frowning as she scanned for some speck of understanding or motive, only to be met with blinking confusion and an eventual glint of fear. He couldn't have understood what he was implying, talking about her having a use for a dress like this. Her arms folded as she turned away from him, "If you wait outside I'll put it on."

"I-I mean, if you don't want to you don't have-

Blaze took back the dress, certain fear had prompted his stutter rather than some sudden upwelling of embarrassment, "I said get out, I-I'll call you when I'm ready."

He tried to stammer a few more words out but, with another blushing glare, she sent him stumbling from the room; closing the door behind himself. There were no further footsteps, he was probably leaning against the door and questioning whether he'd made some mistake. Blaze felt the fabric between her fingers, even outside of his view her ruddiness refused to fade. It hadn't quite set in that'd she'd be doing this… it wasn't as though she wore dresses often, they were constantly fighting and searching for resources; clothes were meant to be practical rather than pretty. Blaze held the dress against herself and, as she'd thought, it was almost her size. Maybe a little broad on the shoulders and perhaps it was just a little long but Blaze knew she'd at least get it onto her frame.

Even through her gloves, she could feel the softness of the material. The brush of her thumb unveiled a brilliant white layer beneath long set dust. It was so delicate; she couldn't run and fight in a dress like this regardless oh want but Blaze got the feeling it would tear under any strain. Blaze gently drew free the hanger and veil, setting them on the bed, before gently brushing off the gown, struggling to ignore the tickling of her nose and eyes.

Why was she doing this? Before she'd scared him off he'd taken his word back, told her she didn't have to wear it if she didn't want to. Did she want to wear it? The undeniable answer forced a sigh from her lips, she'd called him naïve but who was really being childish. Just as she knew him better than he knew himself, he knew the same of her. Perhaps it'd been how she held the dress or the way her eyes had lingered upon it. Regardless, something had given away that tiny, insignificant, nagging want.

Even after her minimal effort, the dress was brighter than it'd been for the last a hundred years. She lowered it to the ground, spreading it wide so the carpet was visible through its centre. Blaze slipped off her heels, not wanting to chance a misstep tearing the fabric, before shedding her purple overcoat; a white string top that matched her tights lay beneath. She stepped into the dress, pulling it up her body. It was surprisingly comfortable. Well, being designed to be worn for an entire day, she supposed that made sense. It didn't catch on her fur and, though it clearly wasn't suited for fighting, her upper body felt free to move. Perhaps even, a little too free.

The dress seemed to hang off of her shoulders, refusing to remain taught no matter how she shifted it. It had been a long time since she'd last worn a dress and she'd never worn one quite like this. They'd been simple and plain, the sort she could throw on in a pinch and still wear while fighting, rather than… this. Blaze reached behind herself, trying to tug the dress from a different angle, only to find it split in two. There was a gap, what felt like loose ribbons hung between the two sides. This was complicated, she'd worn dresses with zips before but this was on a different level. She tried to approach the strings from different angles, first over her shoulders and (when that failed) reaching up her back.

It seemed like she was supposed to pull the two sides, tightening them, before fastening it with a knot or through some loop she couldn't see. Fiddle as she might, she couldn't get it to work; she'd pull the strings and the dress would close but she couldn't retain that tension and tie a knot. Even if she took the dress off, she doubted she'd be able to sort it before pulling it up her body. Especially not without ripping it. There was a collar to it that, when the back closed, became far more form fitting; far too tight to shift past her shoulders. This dress required two people, one to wear it and one to fasten it. There were only two people in the house.

Blaze pushed a hand to her chest, attempting to hold the dress in its proper place, feeling the heat of embarrassment return to her cheeks. It wasn't as though she was naked beneath the loose dress, it was no worse than when she wore pyjamas, but the combination of the dresses' purpose and her compromising position was catalysing her blush. Her mind scrambled for another way, face twisting as she continued to fumble with the ribbons at her back. Whenever she successfully tied a knot it'd be much too loose, untying those knots was even harder. Just as she'd undone a knot, a voice cut through the door.

"Blaze, is everything okay?" The ribbons slipped from her grasp, she hadn't realised how long she was taking.

"Silver, I…" She turned away from the door and to the window, again pressing a hand to her chest in an attempt to hold the dress in place. "Can you come in, I need your help."

"I'm coming, what's wro-

The door had been flung open, he'd stumbled in, and undoubtedly hesitated at the site. Try as she might, she couldn't find the strength to look back to him. "I can't tie up the back myself, can you…" She didn't quite know what to say but she hoped he understood.

There was a pause, soon followed by footsteps. "I-I'll give it my best shot?"

Unable to see him, she couldn't place his stutter. In hindsight, she wasn't sure how much the hedgehog new about marriage. He claimed to know what a wedding dress was, but had he just seen the word downstairs? Blaze herself only knew the basics, that marriage was a celebration of love bringing people together, that objects, most commonly rings, would be exchanged and vows given. Being truthful to each other, treating the other when they're sick and protecting one another. As she thought of them, Blaze felt Silver's touch; his hands had finally reached the back of her dress.

Blush bubbled further; if those vows were the criteria to marry then they already met them. Being truthful? Even when he wasn't, understating an injury or his hunger, she could read his face as clearly as he could read hers. Treating the other when they were sick? Of course, they did that. One of the few times they'd bicker was over who to treat first, be it injuries or illness. Protecting one another? They'd done that today even, they did that every day. She'd give everything to see him safe and Blaze had no doubt he'd do the same for her. It wasn't that they were doing it out of choice though; they were doing it to survive.

Weren't they?

They'd chosen to survive together. They'd decided to change this world together. She didn't have much choice, the flames that clung to her kept away others, but he could have fit in at one of those survivor settlements. Truth be told, he was probably better served there; helping maintain their homes and defending people. It was so easily imagined. The pact they'd made in their youth, promising to fix the world together, was the strongest vow they'd made. Could it be compared to marriage? The words 'till death do us part,' another common vow, came to mind. It'd take that much to undo their bond at the very least, she couldn't imagine one of them dying without the other… even if it was very easy to imagine them dying for one another.

He was still working away but she managed to pull her hand from her chest, finding the fabric almost fully taut. "Thank you Silver, are you almost done?"

"Th-There's just a couple more, they're really fiddly." He explained, the warmth of his breath so close to her ear refreshed her blush. "I think I'm doing it right, does it feel okay?"

"Y-Y-Yes," She swallowed, cursing internally her stutter, "Yes, Silver. You're doing fine."

Though her mind was still stuck on marriage, she managed to pry it away from the prior comparisons. The other things she knew were rather strange, smaller pieces of a bigger puzzle she presumed. Things like a thrown bouquet determining who was going to get married next, the pressure of such a bond seemed rather unfair to dump on a person, and giant cakes being cut, cakes too big for even the large groups who typically attended the festivities. Fancy outfits, music and large halls were often involved, albeit those were a common sight at most festivities. The event seemed strange but, in a way, there was a wholesomeness to the concept. Commemorating a bond by bringing other people together, when things were finally fixed maybe such festivities could retu-

"That's it done! I-It might take me a bit longer to undo but you're all fastened up." The stutter lingered in his voice but, mixed with it, there was a clear excitement.

"Thank you, Silver." Blaze stood fully straight, fiddling with the gown to be certain it was on properly… but more pressingly, to buy enough time to quash her blush. "Can you pass me the veil?"

Blaze reached up, undoing her ponytail and taking the hairband around her wrist, just in time from him to pass the semipermeable fabric over her shoulder. She brushed loose much of its dust before raising it to crown her head. As the material fell into her vision she was able to make out its intricacies, to match the dress small flowers of a lighter texture were woven into it.

Her eyes closed tight, she turned on her heel and, just in time for embarrassment to swell again, she was facing him. Albeit, much too flustered to meet his gaze.

For a moment there was silence, not a peep from the hedgehog, but she soon broke it, "S-So, w-what do you think?"

Suddenly, her feet were swept from the floor; she felt his arms around her. Surprise forced her eyes open, she found herself staring down at his beaming face. He'd lifted her up and into a tight hug, wearing a grin wide enough to redden his cheeks. She'd forgotten he could do that, without her heels he was a good few inches taller than her.

Her gaze averted, just in time for him to answer. "You look beautiful Blaze! It really suits you!"

She couldn't muster the will to speak, only managing to avert her gaze from his; even through the veil, the sparkle in his bright yellow eyes was far too potent. Blaze lowered her hands to his shoulders, stabilising herself, fingers intertwining with his overgrown chest fur. It was such an embarrassing hold, his arms crossed beneath her thighs; the billowing fabric of the dress acting as a cushion.

"Is this okay Blaze?" Excitement has turned to worry all of a sudden, Blaze's eyes returned to his. "Should I put you down, a-are uncomfortable?"

"Y-You're so naïve, I-I'm fine Silver. It's just… you know," Despite her effort, words were still failing her. She was embarrassed enough as it was without explaining that embarrassment, "I don't wear dresses often and this one has… a lot of meaning behind it." The veil folded back on itself, awash in cyan light. Though the light still lingered Blaze could see the seriousness in his eyes, he was making sure she was really okay. It was unavoidable; he'd see her blush. "I-I'm fine Silver."

"I wasn't lying, you look really pretty Blaze." She felt her temperature rise further, the flush on her cheeks undoubtedly darkening, she couldn't look away; if she did, he'd worry more. The mixed messages of his compliment, the close way he held her and the seriousness of his tone wasn't helping matters.

"Thank you, Silver." Blaze knew his words were genuine but, equally, she knew he didn't really understand them. Well, she supposed she could return the feeling. Perhaps if they were both embarrassed it wouldn't be so bad. Her fists balled at his scruff, "Y-You look v-very handsome."

No, that hadn't made things better. Now he was blushing, his eyes dropped to the hem of her dress, and she was flushed twice as crimson. Both of them unable to move, struggling to think what to say let alone say it. With him looking away Blaze, eventually, managed to cast her gaze past him; opting to fixate on one of the few barren patches of carpet. Why couldn't this be easier? Why hadn't she just kept-

"Y-You should keep the dress," Her gaze shot back to him, only to find he wasn't looking at her. Pinkness tipped his ears and thoroughly lit his muzzle, "I-If you want it that is. O-Of course, you don't have to."

Eyes widened, curiosity was piqued. Why had he said that and, arguably far more importantly, how much did he know about marriage? "What use would I have for it? I can't fight in a dress like this."

"I-I don't know," His answer offered no confirmation but his next words were so easy to misinterpret, to make out as more than they might have meant. "M-Maybe someday you'll find one?"

Was that a proposal or a simple answer? Regardless of the meaning behind it, he'd left her too stunned to think. As he finally lowered her to the ground, their height difference once again becoming evident, her hands lingered on his shoulders for just a moment longer. Summoning the sum total of her courage, Blaze made a promise. "A-Alright, one day we'll find a use for it."

#silvaze #Silver the Hedgehog #Blaze the Cat #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic 06 #crisis city

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black-strike-otp · 6 years

Text

LT : Chapter 5

♪♫ Holding onto what we find. We don’t want to lose this fight. You, me, and gravity. Brave enough to give it all, knowing that the faint will fall. You, me, and gravity~ ♪♫

Was home here, or was it out there? Here felt foreign. The planet recovering and not full of life; a thousand memories of war, a childhood hardly lived. Here tasted like defeat and sadness mixed with endings and beginnings never fully over or fully starting. Here was an unfulfilled dream and false hopes.

But there was no better. There had beauty and adventure, but it was hollow. There had no connections and no secure place to ever rest your head long. There was just as much muddled with loss as it was with triumphs. There had whispered promises and torn them down; ripping them from outstretched fingers the moment you thought you had grasp.

Cybertron was not home. But space neither felt like home.

Staying or going, Novastrike felt no yearning for either conclusion. At the end of the cycle, the only benefactor of each was one held a somewhat reliable source of energon and the other the possibility of a long overdue retribution. These only positives the top of a pamphlet of further ‘good’ qualities as they were filled with bad.

The answer to leave though wasn’t a question. After all, she could never forget and never forgive. The dreams that haunted her at night; the recollections that would be with her forever now in her processor. So much loss. So much more that could come. Yet it was something she felt had to be done.

Guard had always been the biggest supporter of everyone. He was determined to see the qualities in someone that spoke to a goodness in them. Their strengths could be assets; their weaknesses something he would acknowledge and see them through. It didn’t matter what faction you came from; your history, your background, everyone deserved a justified evaluation and a chance. Everyone deserved the right to live and to change and grow; everyone deserved a helping hand and a smile, a shoulder to lean on, someone to listen.

Should it be so baffling that someone so thoughtful was once a Decepticon? There were tales of glory and sacrifice from them; though most believed to be untrue. To think that Megatron had once vowed for peace essentially considered a myth by all standards now...

She twirled a small artifact between her digits as she mused; feeling the channels and cuts scored into metal. With just a glance, the light of her optics caught on the polished silver sphere. A simple yet elegant design had been painstakingly carved into the surface, with a small set of initials on the other side. Dangling from it, a thin flexible strand of silver to attach to her wrist and slip beneath the armor on her arm for safekeeping.

A smile played across her mouth as her thoughts cleared. With a flick of her digit, she popped open the lock on the penny-sized objects hinge.

Inside, a pulsing light show of silver and blue tones danced across the gemstone inside. A single chip hidden beneath it let out a most unusual sound; an enchanting chime of soft music mixed with a darker, richer undertone. It wasn’t something especially special to anyone but her and one other individual, but the tune soothed her when little else did.

There was a long road ahead. A journey that like the voyage that originally took Cybertronians off their home world and into the unknown left them with hope but no tell of success or victory. Things could go a number of ways. For all she knew, they may never return to this place again.

It would all be worth it in the end. She had to assure herself of this.

Closing the locket with a soft ‘click’, Nova slipped it beneath her wrist and up into her armor with a heavy vent. Her helm fell low as she jiggled her dangling legs over the edge of the chasm before her; watching the world and its people pass her by.

Her audios flicked back and she turned her helm sluggishly to look over at the scorpion approaching her. He blinked his many optics at her out of sync as he approached.

“All okay?”

“Yes- fine, just a bit lost in thought I suppose. Why? Something wrong, Scorp?”

Clicking in response, the bug shook its helm from side to side. Its thin prong legs tapped swiftly upon the metal ground underfoot as he approached the remainder of distance to her side.

Upturning her lips into a smile, Novastrike reached out to brush her digits against the dark gold and silver minicon’s side. There were fissures that lined his armor senselessly; without pattern from wounds battle and nicks and dents that were either old or needed repair from careless digging tactics. He otherwise appeared in notably good shape, thanks to Blackout’s devotion to taking care of his small mechanoid friend.

“Checking on you,” he chirped in response.

“Awwww, what, are you worried about me?” Nova cooed, scratching in the space between his the armor surrounding his helm and his body.

A delighted mechanical whirl escaped the bug as he gave a slight shiver in response.

“Second partner,” he confirmed. “Seem distant. Making sure.”

Offering a reassuring smile, the small white-armored femme turned her gaze off to the side.

“She does appear very far away from here,” agreed a rumbling voice; catching Nova off guard as she whipped her helm around.

With arms crossed, the obsidian giant had crept up on her without her realization. Strange how someone so unbelievably large could do such a thing. The sheer force of his weight and presence shouldn’t allow it.

“I hope she doesn’t stray too far,” he went on a bit quieter as he stepped closer. “Though, where she may roam among stars, I would follow.”

Novastrike gave a snort in response. She could feel the burn in her audios as she smirked up at the moron; his softened crimson optics and the slight smile he usually reserved only for her a few others that she could count on one servo.

“We’re going to the same stars together,” she emphasized, trying to play serious.

“You appear to be walking among them already.”

“I’m just… having some alone time with my thoughts.”

“Do you wish for us to go?”

“N-No you’re both quite alright, Blackout,” Nova hurried in response, raising both hands up to him in surrender before dropping them to her lap.

“Hmm,” he grumbled deep in his chassis. “If you’re sure of that. Notwithstanding; you do appear to have walked in starlight and bathed in the presence of the universe’s light.”

“Bet you tell that to all the femmes,” she hissed, squirming in place.

An amused smile in black, Blackout echoed a deep chuckle to himself. He slowly moved to a kneeling position; offering out a servo to each small Cybertronian.

Scorponok was quick to scale up his master’s arm and perch himself awkwardly over his shoulder. With his frame being built more horizontal, he simply lounged himself over the mech with a self satisfied trill. He wasn’t normally up so tall to take in all the views.

Giving a small shake of her helm and a roll of her optics, Nova huffed and carefully climbed up to kneel on her sparkmate’s servo just before he moved to stand at full. She tried not to look too closely at his damned handsome faceplate or the ridiculous warmth and love emitting from his gaze. Stupid mech had a way with making her spark pitter patter and do flips like it was on a carnival ride. A reaction she couldn’t control.

The giant mech gingerly offered her a place upon his shoulder, which she accepted gracefully. Slipping from servo to shoulder, Novastrike dangled her legs off the edge and leaned back as he dropped his arms to his sides.

“I most definitely don’t say that to all the femmes,” he finally replied with a mischievous grin.

“The only reason you’re saying that is because my armor is white,” she laughed quietly.

“Your armor could be as dark as mine and the statement would still be true,” he disagreed matter-of-factly. “You are a good individual. A very compassionate femme who likes to spread her kind spark with anyone she can.”

“Mmmm,” Nova hummed thoughtfully. “You’re sweet, handsome devil.”

She leaned in to press a light kiss to his cheek. Blackout smiled a fraction more; his chassis rumbling with a noise of appreciation.

Something felt… off.

“You didn’t just come here to smother me with sweet words, did you?”

“I… didn’t know you were up here,” Blackout admitted slowly. “I came here hoping for a little quiet time, too.”

“Well, if you need the space…”

“No,” he breathed in quick response. “Stay. Please. I…”

A ray of emotions moved over his faceplate. Conflicted, hopeful, nervous… Novastrike’s audios drooped a little as her tail swished, reaching out to caress the side of his face.

“Hey…”

Leaving was worrying him. She could feel it. Even with their sparkbond closed off for the time being, it was something that had been building within him. She’d seen it, sensed it, watched it morph and evolve. There was a lot on his shoulders.

And leaving his best friend behind again; not knowing when they’d return, what they’d return to, if communications would be able to continue between them while they were in the bowels of space…

Whatever it was Blackout had meant to say, he didn’t finish. He looked over to Scorponok, reaching up to scratch along the side of his helm for a moment.

His other arm reached up a handful of nanokliks later; digit extending to stroke the side of her faceplate. Nova let out a small little ‘huff’, scowling at him a little.

It didn’t seem to prompt a response, but he leaned her a bit closer and kissed the top of her helm.

Venting out sharply, the small femme exhaled as she murmured, “I’m here for you, you know. If you want to talk about it.”

“I know, Novastrike.”

“We’re a team here: don’t forget that.”

Blackout grinned then; a flash of confidence lighting up his optics. “How could I forget?”

Snickering quietly, she placed her palm to his shoulder for support as she leaned back. Her voice soft and gentle as she spoke: “If you don’t want to do this, love, we don’t have to. Guard wouldn’t think any less of you for wanting to stay here, wanting to spend time with Barricade and Venus.”

A frustrated noise escaped Blackout. He raised a servo to place it against his faceplate. Scorponok on his other shoulder chattered with reassurance.

“I know,” he stressed. “But the bots left on the Rising Star, they didn’t have a choice in what happened and what situation they’re in now. They were as much allies and support as Guard had been. I owe them so much for accepting me, for helping repair me, for their kindnesses. Guard wouldn’t let them down, and I won’t either.”

“And Neutroboost,” he snarled the mech’s name like a curse, “Needs to pay for what he’s done.”

“You know, for a mech who likes to say how dark and vile you are, you’re very noble, sweetspark.”

“You say that after I threaten the life of a mech?”

“Well, yes,” Nova stated, perplexed. “Any justice system would say he needs to be punished for his crimes.”

Blackout snorted. “You realize my punishment will be very different from a just punishment, according to many of Cybertronians old laws?”

“Duh. Trust me: I too want to make him bleed.”

“Heh,” Blackout chuckled shortly. “You spend too much time with me.”

A quiet metallic laughter escaped Scorponok. Blackout tossed him a dirty look, but Novastrike felt a fire burning in her chassis. She scoffed loudly and gave her mate’s face a little shove, causing him to look back at her with some surprise.

“Shut,” she threatened in a scathing tone. “You can’t blame yourself for my thoughts or actions. I… offlined a mech when I thought he was going to kill you. I’ve fought my own battles. I’d have offlined a mech for Guard, too. He took me into the Neutrals group and even when Crookedwing and Neutroboost weren’t certain of me; saw me as an expense but at least one who didn’t consume a lot of their resources, Guard saw potential and said that I should train. That there were things he saw in me and knew I could do with my own skills and size that no one else could.”

“In his name and honor, I want to get revenge on his behalf, too,” she seethed. “He didn’t deserve what his own so-called ‘friend’ did to him. They were together in this war before any of us were, and that was how Neutro repaid him? No, I want to see this through, and if that means that my servos get dirty in the process, it’s a risk worth taking. There’s no governing system for Cybertronian. Even if there was; frag them.”

She huffed dramatically at her last point. In a sulking fashion, she threw her arms up, and then crossed them tightly to her chassis as she pouted.

Blackout stayed silent for some time. Slowly, he turned his optics away from her to stare at the horizon. After quite some time of silence, allowing her to cool off, he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry if I seemed insensitive of your feelings.”

“No you didn’t, not really I just… I want to make it clear: I’m doing this just as much for Guard as I am myself. And I understand that this might not be easy, and it certainly won’t be pleasant, squeaky clean work.”

“You know,” Blackout said quietly, “If things get too much for you… I’m willing to stand up and do the hard stuff.”

“Oh please,” she teased, letting out a shaky sigh as her shoulders relaxed, “I’ll be the one finishing off Neutroboost most likely, anyway.”

“Is that so?”

“You bet your firm aft.”

Dark laughter escaped Blackout. He pressed a servo to his chassis a moment, shaking his helm. With a sharp contrasting bright light emitting from his scarlet optics, he tilted his helm slightly towards hers. Novastrike mimicked the gesture as she stood up, placing her forehead against his.

“I love you, and your spunky fireball of sass,” he chuckled.

“And I love you, and your firm aft.”

He raised an optic ridge.

“What? It’s a nice aft.”

“I knew you only liked me for my frame.”

“Oh, shut up,” she hissed, laughing as she shoved at his faceplate while they both laughed.

A quiet, underlying set of notes sung forth from her spark as she snorted on her laughter. Though she couldn’t make it out through their cackling, its matching counterpart echoed in a resonating deep hum in Blackout’s chassis.

It occurred to her that home was neither here nor there. Home was with Blackout; with Blackout, with their friends and their family.

They were the home she’d been missing all those years ago. And she’d do anything to fight to keep it whole and safe.

#Lex Talionis AU #OTP AU #OTP Lit #Cute OTP

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misc-oneshots · 8 years

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Living with the bond

Words: 3,892 This is longer than I intended! Set during Eclipse Part three of the Embry Call imagine Part one – Just one look Part two – Learning to trust This is part three Part Four - A new wolf Part Five - Facing the Future Part Six - The promise

“Come on, come on, break it up.” Paul laughed as he nudged you and Embry apart and dropped himself down heavily onto the couch between you. Embry crossed his arms and tried to hide his pout at the loss of contact with you. Paul’s arm fell over your shoulders and gave you a squeeze. You raised a brow at him, “Smooth Paul, subtle.”

Paul gave you one of his wolfish grins, “I thought so. I just think that you should spend more time with me. Remember me? Your favourite.” “Well that’s a lie because Leah has always been my favourite.” You countered and Paul narrowed his eyes and squeezed your shoulder with his massive hand playfully. “Ha! I told you!” Leah shouted from the kitchen making everyone chuckle.

Damn wolf hearing.

“Why can’t I spend time with my boyfriend?” You whined and over Paul’s shoulder Embry gave you a grin at the word. Paul dropped his head back onto the back of the sofa and groaned, “Because it’s all you ever do. Even when you’re doing your homework he’s there.” Jacob dropped down heavily onto your other side on the couch, none of these guys seemed bothered about what they were doing to Sam and Emily’s furniture. He gave you a playful elbow, “There’s a band playing in Forks this weekend, we’re all going, you in?” You regarded him curiously, “As long as you promise not to sing.” Jacob gave you a hurt look and placed his hand over his heart in feign heartbreak and Embry reached over Paul to give you a high five causing the rest of the pack to laugh at Jacob’s expense.

So it was decided and when the weekend came you spent the afternoon hanging out with Emily and Kim before Leah joined you and the four of you headed into Forks. The guys were to join you later. They had some super-secret pack stuff to finish up but they agreed that Leah was enough to protect you alone and the girl time together did her well. As the only female wolf, Leah didn’t get a lot of quality time away from the guys and, Lord knows, she needed it.

The band weren’t bad for a few greasy faced teens with ancient equipment, they were playing at a pavilion in Forks park and most of the town had spilled out to see them. Even with the smallness of the town a few food stands and trucks had shown up and you’d all been relieved to see it. The boys liked their food after all.

You’d had about an hour of quality time with your girls when you spotted Bella standing alone beside one of the street lights. Nudging Kim beside you, you inclined your head towards were Bella was stood and Kim followed your gaze, “Well she looks as awkward as always.” You nodded, it was difficult not to agree when Bella was stood with her arms wrapped around herself ignoring everyone and looking at the floor. Part of you felt bad for her. “Billy told me that Charlie’s banned Edward from being in the house since she came back from going off with him and his sister.” Emily told you. “Fang banger.” Leah spat as she joined you, her second burger of the night in hand. “Jacob still thinks that he has a chance.” You mumbled, he’d not spoken to Bella since she’d left with Alice for Italy, though you knew he had written to her. It was odd, a few months ago you were desperately trying for Jacobs affections and now you were dating, and let’s face it hopelessly in love with, his best friend Embry and trying to help him fix his love life. Jeez. Life was strange.

“I’m going to talk to her.” You decided and jumped down from the railing that you were sat on, “Ask her if she’s heard from Jake. You guys mind if I invite her to join us?” Kim and Emily shook their heads, they didn’t mind at all along as it was only her and not her little undead family. Leah swallowed what was left of her burger and fixed you with a hard stare for a moment before sighing, “Fine. Only because it’s you and Jacob will be in my head next time I phase. Just her though yeah, Y/N? If those leeches come around then she has to bounce, got it?”

You laughed, “Yeah, yeah I got it. Bounce? What’re you from the 80s?” She took a playful swing at your arm as you stepped off towards Bella, you called her name to get her attention and she gave you a surprised look at her presence, “I’m just waiting for Edward.” You resisted the urge to tell her that you hadn’t asked and that you didn’t care – barely. Instead you smiled and kept your tone light, “Do you want to wait with us?” She glanced behind you at Leah, who was probably glaring but that was her default setting, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You smiled again to try to reassure her, “Leah doesn’t mean anything by it, that’s just her face. And we both know that she can hear me so she mustn’t be very scary if I’m willing to say it.” To her credit Bella attempted a smile before her face fell again, “No, I mean Edward wouldn’t like it.”

“What’s it got to do with him?” You questioned without thinking. She looked appalled, like you’d slapped her with your question, “He’s my boyfriend.” She squeaked in indignation. You shrugged your shoulders at her attitude, “And Embry’s my boyfriend but if he tried to tell me where I could go, who I could talk to or what I could do then he’d get a face full of fist. And I’m his imp-” You stopped just short of the word. Imprint. You’d not admitted it out loud yet.

But Jacob must have told Bella because she caught the word and her face scrunched in on itself like she’d chewed on a wasp and she pointed at you as she snarled, “Imprint, right? You think that makes you special? Because it doesn’t, I’m Edward’s blood singer, that’s special, that’s fate. An imprint is basically just lust, it’s nothing special and neither is your boyfriend.”

Violence is not the answer. Don’t hit her. Violence is not the answer. Don’t hit her. Violence is not the answer. Don’t hit her.

Your inner mantra failed you. All at once you were yanking her towards you by her collar. The shock stunned her and you tightened your grip on her collar and leaned in close to her face, “Do not talk shit about Embry again.”

Her panicked breath tickled your face and a thought prickled the back of your mind, that this wasn’t you. You weren’t a violent person but you couldn’t release her if you wanted too, your entire body had seized up and your breath came out ragged. It was a cold hand covering yours that brought you back to life. Emmett.

His hand gently, incredibly gently given that you knew what strength he really held, unfurled your fingers from her collar and Bella dropped back a couple of steps. He ran his thumb over your hand to let you know that he wasn’t mad at you before letting it drop and you let it fall to your side. If it had to be any of the undead army of Forks then you were glad it was Emmett, he was the only one that you liked out of the bunch and before you knew what he was you’d often found yourself talking to him about books in the park. He was incredibly well read for someone who presented themselves as just muscle. But then you had found out that he was Vampire and chasm had grown between you, one that you both knew was inevitable and one that you couldn’t come back from.

You were scared of him now.

He still tried to make you laugh though, and now was no different, “Now why aren’t you lovely ladies getting on?” “She just went mad.” Bella snapped, she was pretty brave hiding behind the giants shoulder. Emmett looked over your shoulder than back at you for a moment but you ignored him in case it was a ploy to distract you. “She was talking shit about Embry!” You snarled, and stepped forward making Bella jump back. Vampire guard or not she needed to stop running her mouth. “Woah woah woah.” Emmett held his hands out to stop you, “Let’s take it steady now.” He looked over his shoulder to give Bella a look of utter disappointment, “Bella probably didn’t understand what she was saying. It’s hard to understand a bond if you’re not a part of it.” You accepted his answer but made sure to point at Bella, like she had to you, when you answered him, “Fine but the next time she talks about Embry like that she’s going to be picking up her teeth. Got it?” “Got it.” He promised and he fixed Bella with another look to keep her mouth shut.

You nodded, happy with his answer and turned on your heel to walk away and walked straight into Leah. You cursed in surprise and her hands found your upper arms to steady you. How long had she been stood there? That must have been why Emmett was looking over your shoulder. That was why Leah was your favourite, besides Embry of course, she let you do your thing but always had your back. Even when you didn’t ask her, she just appeared to help people that she loved. She looked incredibly proud of you and for a moment you felt proud of yourself, you hadn’t had to hide behind Leah like Bella had done with Emmett.

For the next hour you had tried to push thoughts of Bella to the back of your mind but the girls wouldn’t let you, Kim and Emily also seemed shocked that you had such anger in you but that didn’t stop the jokes at your expense. The rest of the Cullen clan had arrived soon after and Edward had spent the entire night glaring at you, after he’d gotten Carlisle to check Bella’s neck from your ‘savage’ attack. Rosalie hadn’t tried to hide her amusement at Bella getting threatened, she’d even shot you a smirk at one stage, as far as she was concerned it was a conflict between both of you as humans and that was that. There should be no repercussions from her family or the wolves, so she the blonde vampire had allowed herself the amusement.

You were distracted from the undead family’s antics by your phone buzzing in your pocket, you pulled your phone and read the text from Embry, he told you that he was on his way and you blushed at the obscene amount of kissy faces on the text. The girls must have got the same texts from Sam and Jared because they joined the queue to the burger truck with Leah. Kim gave you a thumbs up which told you that she would buy one or two burgers for Embry while you waited with the picnic blanket that you had laid out.

Emmett took the chance, while you were alone, to come over and when you moved over to give him space he sat beside you but he kept a healthy amount of space between you. “You’d think that I’d broken her neck.” You said and nodded over towards where Bella was rubbing her neck and demanding attention from the other Cullen’s. Emmett grinned, “She definitely would be quieter if you had.” You smirked and you fell into silence again until he asked, “Are we cool? You know, aside from the whole ‘I’m mortal enemies with your mate thing’?” You laughed, “Aside from that, yes, we’re good.” “Good,” He grinned.

“I’ve been that angry before.” You admitted and pulled at a frayed part of the blanket. Emmett scratched the side of his pale face in thought, “It’s the imprint bond. I wouldn’t sweat it, you’re going to be as protective of him as he is of you.” “Just without the teeth and claws to back it up?” You joked. “I dunno, I thought that you might grow some claws back there.” Emmett laughed and you joined him. He dropped his arm around your shoulders like Paul often did and playfully pulled you as you laughed and that’s when it went to shit.

Emmett was pushed to the ground, his hands came up to defend himself from Embry’s punches and Jared caught you as you were pushed away. “Embry stop it.” You hissed, you were in the middle of crowd, everyone was starting to look, he couldn’t lose it now. He ignored you and went to swing down at Emmet again but Jacob caught him in his thick arms and hauled him away. Sam snarled, “Go home now.” And Embry complied, dragged away by Jacob. He didn’t look at you. Sam shook his head at you and left with the others. They were gone. Even Leah, who had to go because of the Alpha’s orders, had left you sat on that picnic mat surrounded by the whole town and the leeches that they hated.

---

Emmett walked you home. Not a smart move usually but you got the impression that he felt guilty about what had happened and that he was worried about Edward approaching you now that the pack was gone. He tried to shield the cracked diamond skin on the side of his face from you as you walked and in fairness you didn’t want to see that Embry had managed to get that angry.

You’d never seen him like that.

You let him stew overnight and when you woke the next morning to texts from every member of the pack and their imprints. Everyone expect Embry. You sighed and read the other messages:

Paul: I followed you and the leech home, message me when you get back so that I know you’re safe please. Jacob: I can’t believe you did that to Bella. We need to talk. Kim: Hope you’re okay, me and Jared are thinking about you. You didn’t do anything wrong, Embry knows that. Quil: He was an idiot, you were an idiot. Come back and be idiots together okay? Leah: Can I see you? I want to know that you’re okay. Also, I may have kicked Embry’s ass. Seth: Please come round Y/N, we want to know that you’re okay. And you need to talk to Embry, Leah kicked his ass. Emily: You come round whenever you’re ready Y/N. You don’t have to see Embry, it can just be me and the girls if you want to talk. Xx Sam: I’m sorry about yesterday. I hope you’re okay. Please come and see Embry, he needs you.

Your heart throbbed at the thought of Embry needing you but if he needed you that much, and if he could sense how shitty you were feeling, where was he? He hadn’t even sent you a text. You got up, ate breakfast at a leisurely pace even though your stomach didn’t feel too much up to the task, showered, got ready and headed off towards Emily and Sam’s house where you knew Embry would be sulking.

And you were right. As soon as you set foot on their property the door flew open and Leah was running towards you with Paul on her heels, your favourite duo as always. They stopped just short of you and started patting you down for injuries and despite yourself, you smiled. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” You reassured them. Leah pulled you into a hug, “I’m sorry that I had to leave you.” She whispered. “I know that you didn’t have a choice,” You reassured her before giving Paul a hug as well, “And thank you for stalking me home.” “Doesn’t sound great when you say it like that.” He mumbled.

They stayed outside when you went inside and Jared and Kim both greeted you warmly before leaving. Embry was sat on the couch, it was just you two now and he refused to look at you. You sat on the opposite end of the couch from him, “So, what do you have to say for yourself?” He continued to look down at his lap, “I thought that he was flirting with you.” His answer riled your anger instantly, “Well you know how you could have known for certain? Ask me!”

He flinched but said nothing. You sighed, “Should I just leave? If you’re not going to talk to me then what’s the point of me being here?” “Don’t leave.” He looked at you, finally, and you hoped that he couldn’t see the shock on your face at the state of him. His eyes where dark and heavy, his hair was a mess, he’d clearly not slept at all. Other than that he looked okay, his super wolf healing must have already fixed Leah’s ass kicking.

“I know what I did was stupid, I’m sorry.” He mumbled. You shook your head, it was much more than that, “No, stupid is breaking something. This is insane. You realise that if you had gone any further you could have outed your packs secret to the whole of Forks? And that of the Cullen’s? You think they’d let a whole town know about Vampires?” You were shouting now, “They could have attacked and killed the whole town! And all of La Push, never mind the whole pack and their imprints because you’d have to try to stop them!” Your voice fell to a whisper, “And you hurt me Embry. How could you not trust me? How could you not talk to me?”

His eyes had welled but you didn’t let it stop you, “Emmett was just checking that I was okay after what I did to Bella, he was trying to make sure that Edward didn’t exacerbate things. Embry I lo-,” you sighed, “I love you, there I said it. But that will never give you the power to tell me who I can and can’t talk too. Especially when you know that I wouldn’t be talking to Emmett unless it was for a damn good reason. Do you want us to end up like Bella and Edward?”

He jumped up and stepped over to your side of the couch, his warm hands found your face and he made you look up at him, “I am, honestly, truly sorry Y/N and for what it’s worth I love you too.” Your heart cartwheeled and you reached up to kiss him, his chapped lips brushing against yours. Your hands came up to his warm chest, running over hard, shirt clad, stomach muscles on the way while his hands held your face still. You pulled back from the kiss slowly but he followed the movement and peppered your face with light kisses, your checks, nose and forehead all getting loving attention. You giggled, “Embry stop it that tickles!” He chuckled and kissed you more, his hands coming to your sides to tickle you slightly as your squealed and squirmed trying to get away from his evil fingers.

You fell back onto the couch and he pulled you onto his chest, you both settled and you cuddled. You enjoyed the heat radiating off of him and ran his hand up and down your back as you rested on his chest. “Okay I’m sorry, so why were you talking to the leech?” He mumbled and kissed the top of your head. You absentmindedly drew patterns on his chest with your finger, “He was trying to stop me beating Bella up.” Your chest-mattress rumbled as he laughed and you looked up at him to see his face split into a wide grin, he already looked loads better than five minutes ago. “I’m so proud of you.” He laughed. “So was Leah,” You mused, “I suppose she told you all about it.” “She did.” He told you, “I couldn’t enjoy it at first because it made me feel like even more of an idiot.” “No you’re only half an idiot.” You teased and he playfully swatted your hip. After a moment of silence you mumbled, “I’m not a violent person, I don’t know what happened. Emmett thinks it’s the imprint.” “As much as I hate to say it, he’s probably right. Don’t feel bad Y/N, what you did was nowhere near as bad as what I did.” He told you. “We’re just idiots aren’t we?” You asked and he agreed with a nod.

“So,” He said after a moment, “How about next time, before I beat someone’s face in, I get your permission?” You laughed, “And before I threaten stupid people I’ll let you know.” He grinned and squeezed you with his thick arms as you laughed at the way you’d both handled last night. He kissed the top of your head again and you tickled his abs making him wiggle and try to tickle you back.

Your bliss was interrupted when Sam and Emily’s door slammed open and Jacob stormed in with Sam, Paul, Leah and Quill in tow. Embry pulled up both up so that you were curled up in his lap, Jacob threw his hands up, “She’s going to fucking marry him after graduation. The fucking leech!”

“Jacob, what happened?” You asked and he scowled at you, Embry tightened his grip but it was clear that Jacob’s anger was fresh, he’d forgotten about his anger at you from last night.

“Bella chose him!” He snarled and kicked over one of Sam’s chairs, the Alpha didn’t stop him, “I put myself out there for her and she chose him! Just like you chose Embry!” Embry’s chest rumbled with a growl, “I’m about to ask you for face beating permission.” He grumbled in your ear. You placed your hand on his arm to calm him down before setting your sights on Jacob, “Jake you can cut that shit out right now. You know that’s not how it is.” He rubbed his face in frustration before setting the chair that he’d kicked right and dropping himself into it, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” You shot Embry a smug look that screamed, see talking works. He pinched your arm in response. “At least you know now Jacob. You can move on.” You tried to reassure him and some of the pack made noises of agreement.

He shook his head, “It’s not over, I know I can show her that it’s me that she wants. I’m going to go to her graduation party, I’ll show her.” You and Embry shared a worried look but in a few short weeks you’d miss the time when your only worry was Jacob’s hormones.

I really enjoyed revisiting this fic! I’m SUPER tempted to carry on this Embry/Reader through to the end of the saga. It does mean I’ll have to watch the films because it’s a LONG time since I read the books! So if that sounds like something you wanna stick around for then drop me a message and I’ll add you to the tag list :) @emmersdagreat @dracvmalfoy @know2glow

#learning to trust #just one look #living with then bond #embry call #embry call imagine #Female reader #Embry #embry call x reader #embry call onehot #embry imagine #twilight #twilight one shot #twilight oneshot #twilight imagines #twilight x reader #wolf pack #wolf pack imagine #wolf pack x reader

2K notes · View notes

ultrasfcb-blog · 6 years

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Bournemouth 2-Zero Cardiff Metropolis

Ryan Fraser has scored 16 targets for Bournemouth in 134 appearances for the Cherries

Bournemouth spoiled Cardiff Metropolis’s Premier League return with a hard-earned 2-Zero victory.

The technically superior hosts had been fast to dominate possession, pinning their opponents again in their very own half for lengthy durations and deservedly taking the lead when Ryan Fraser fired in from shut vary.

Bournemouth had been then awarded a penalty when Callum Wilson was introduced down after a tangle with Bruno Ecuele Manga, however the ahead’s low spot kick was nicely saved by Neil Etheridge.

Cardiff roused themselves within the second half with a flurry of probabilities from set items – the perfect seeing Sean Morrison thwarted a yard out by Asmir Begovic.

However Wilson struck in added time to provide Bournemouth a primary opening day win since they had been promoted to the highest flight in 2015.

There was a way of reduction because the unseasonably heavy rain descended on the Vitality Stadium, the place the hosts had seemed set for a routine victory earlier than they had been unsettled by Cardiff’s second-half resurgence.

For the guests, regardless of competing with the tenacity anticipated from a Neil Warnock facet, this was a harsh reminder of the chasm in high quality between the Championship and the Premier League.

Bournemouth’s lavish summer time bears fruit

Seeking to enhance on final season’s 12th-place end, Bournemouth had loved a comparatively lavish summer time by their requirements, signing younger Wales ahead David Brooks and full-back Diego Rico for greater than £10m every, after which breaking their switch document to purchase Colombia midfielder Jefferson Lerma for £27m.

Neither Lerma nor Rico had been accessible right here however Brooks supplemented a slick Bournemouth midfield and assault, whose motion and crisp passing typically left Cardiff’s gamers flailing.

One such instance led to the opening purpose halfway by way of the primary half, Wilson darting to the byline and pulling a low cross again to an unmarked Fraser, who completed firmly.

Bournemouth managed recreation nicely – Howe

Cardiff had prided themselves on defensive solidity within the Championship however they struggled to become familiar with their opponents on this event, and Wilson was once more a thorn of their facet when he fell underneath a problem from Ecuele Manga for what appeared fairly a tender penalty.

Wilson’s penalty miss threatened to show expensive as Bournemouth needed to face up to a tirade of Cardiff set-pieces that nearly resulted in an equaliser within the second half.

Finally, nonetheless, it was tutorial because it was Wilson who delivered the killer blow, assembly Simon Francis’ cross to complete neatly in added time.

Cardiff’s Premier League return

This was a extra harmonious return to the Premier League for Cardiff, freed from the discord of their earlier one-season keep within the high flight by which a change to pink shirts was probably the most divisive side of a tumultuous 2013-14 marketing campaign.

Proprietor Vincent Tan mentioned this summer time that he had realized from these errors and, with the workforce again in blue and the membership united on and off the sector, the sensation amongst many Bluebirds followers was that they’d get pleasure from this season even when it had been to finish in relegation – as bookmakers had tipped.

Nonetheless, it is a Cardiff facet used to confounding the chances, as they did by securing promotion from the Championship final season, a document eighth for Warnock.

Bournemouth 2-Zero Cardiff Metropolis: Neil Warnock says gamers had been ‘nervous’

The 69-year-old revels within the function of underdog and he’s bullish about his workforce’s prospects regardless of spending lower than £40m on six gamers this summer time, in stark distinction to fellow promoted sides Fulham and Wolves, who’ve spent nearly £150m between them.

A stable defensive construction was the muse for Cardiff’s promotion final season, so Warnock could have been livid to see his facet unlocked as simply as they had been for Bournemouth’s opening purpose.

He’ll, nonetheless, have been a bit of extra inspired by his gamers’ endeavour within the face of strain from the hosts, and the best way by which they fought again within the second half.

Man of the match – Ryan Fraser

Bournemouth had been too fast and skilful for Cardiff, and diminutive winger Ryan Fraser (proper) embodied this superiority

‘We wanted this win’ – what they mentioned

Bournemouth boss Eddie Howe informed BBC Sport: “We had management of the primary half and moved the ball nicely and did not get penned in. The penalty gave us a platform to construct from.

“The second half was a bit extra nip and tuck however we stood up rather well. We stored a clear sheet which we did not do a lot final season which was good.

“If we are able to preserve Ryan [Fraser] match he’ll be a giant participant for us this season. We wanted this win after a poor begin final yr.”

Cardiff Metropolis boss Neil Warnock informed BBC Sport: “I assumed we did alright, we received higher as the sport went on. On one other day we may have gotten a end result however it wasn’t to be.

“They had been higher in sure areas however not different. We had our probabilities and I am dissatisfied. The penalty was tender. It simply felt a bit of bit onerous for us as we speak at occasions.

“They’re a longtime workforce within the Premier League and we may have gotten a end result right here on one other day. We’re trying ahead to the season and some lads had been a bit nervous however as soon as that rubbed off, it was okay.”

BBC Match of the Day pundit Alan Shearer: “I do [think Cardiff will struggle] however they’ll take a look at is what Huddersfield achieved final season. While you take a look at what Fulham and Wolves have spent, Cardiff have purchased 4 gamers from the Championship.

“They are going to be very tough to beat at residence, nonetheless. Neil Warnock could have them nicely organised on the Cardiff Metropolis Stadium and it is going to be very tough for away groups.”

Match stats

Bournemouth registered their first win on the opening day of a Premier League season, having misplaced their earlier three

Cardiff have misplaced on the opening day in simply two of their previous 11 seasons (W5 D4) – however each have been within the Premier League (2013-14 and 2018-19)

Within the Premier League, Bournemouth midfielder Ryan Fraser scored along with his closing shot of the 2017-18 season towards Swansea Metropolis and his first shot of 2018-19 towards Cardiff Metropolis.

Neil Warnock has by no means gained on the opening day of a top-flight season (D1 L3), failing with 4 completely different groups – Notts County in 1991-92, Sheffield United in 2006-07, QPR in 2011-12 and Cardiff in 2018-19.

Cardiff Metropolis goalkeeper Neil Etheridge turned the primary participant from the Philippines to seem within the Premier League and was additionally the primary goalkeeper to avoid wasting a penalty on his Premier League debut since August 2013 (Allan McGregor for Hull Metropolis v Chelsea).

There’s a hole in age of 28 years and 363 days between Bournemouth supervisor Eddie Howe (40 years, 255 days) and Cardiff boss Neil Warnock (69 years 253 days), the biggest hole in age between two opposing managers on the opening day of a Premier League season.

Regardless of failing to attain a penalty within the first half, Bournemouth striker Callum Wilson was concerned in additional targets on this match (two, one purpose, one help) than in his earlier 13 Premier League video games mixed (one).

What’s subsequent?

Bournemouth journey to face West Ham on the London Stadium on 18 August (15:00 BST) whereas Cardiff face Newcastle at residence (12:30 BST) earlier that day.

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ultras FC Barcelona - https://ultrasfcb.com/football/10262/

#Barcelona

#Football

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whitesnow-bunny · 7 years

Text

“A-are you sure this is necessary?” I asked Katrina, still taking small spoonfuls of shaved ice (Which was OK, but not quite as good as ice cream) as we hiked up Mahalo Trail. It was nighttime now, and it was much easier for me to be outside - Especially with the cool ocean breeze blowing through my hair.

“AFFIRMATIVE. It is local custom to visit the local TAPU SHRINE before commencing the ISLAND CHALLENGE. It is a ritual meant to bring SUCCESS and GOOD FORTUNE.”

“I-I didn’t know robots believed in s-superstition...”

Katrina puffed her cheeks and crossed her arms - it was the first overtly human reaction I’ve seen her make in the few hours we’ve been in each other’s company. “KATRINA is not a ROBOT. KATRINA’S MENTAL ARCHITECTURE is not wholly NATURAL, but KATRINA is still composed of flesh and blood. KATRINA will thank you for refraining from such nomenclature in the future.”

“P-perhaps if you d-didn’t refer to yourself in third person s-so much...?”

Katrina made an odd noise that, by context, I assumed was meant to be a grumpy little grumble, but through her strange monotone came out more like the sound of grinding gears. It was... a little endearing, I’ll admit.

“O-oh... The bridge is out...”

Two halves of a rope bridge swung severed over a wide river chasm. Katrina put a hand up to her chin as she began to process the situation, but Hyou beat her to the punch. The little Glaceon darted out from between my legs, and, with a deep inhale and a mighty huff, tried to blow us an ice bridge.

My little baby was certainly brave and tried his best, but... perhaps it was a task a bit too large for him. All he really achieved was leaving a light frost upon the grass.

Katrina and I shared a laugh (I didn’t know she could laugh!), but were interrupted by a frantic Peeeeewwwwww!!!

“Nebby! Wait!”

CAAAAW. CA-CAAAAW. CAAAAAW.

A purple, gaseous pokemon (Kind of like a Gastly, but... not) darted past us, followed by what I presumed to be its trainer... And a flock of angry Spearow.

Hyou immediately whipped around into battle position, and Katrina was quick on the draw to let Voyager out of his ball. The four of us stepped between the Spearow and their prey the moment the girl and her pokemon passed, ready to defend them.

“VOYAGER, WATER GUN. Fire freely, provide COVER for TRAINER and UNIDENTIFIED POKEMON.”

“H-Hyou! H-h-help them out! C-combine your Ice Wind with their Water Gun and drive these S-spearow back!”

The two pokemon nodded, and quickly begain working together to lob dangerous, high-speed icicles into the swarm. The girl and her pokemon took shelter behind us, but... We were very desperately outnumbered, and with our backs to the cliff...

It was only a matter of time before our defenses were broken, and all of us found ourselves falling.

Katrina’s other Pokemon, the strange pair of hands, swan dived after us - This time, accompanied by a floating body that resembled a bamboo shoot. I wasn’t quite sure where it appeared from - Katrina hadn’t tossed another ball - but I wasn’t one to complain. The purple pokemon locked eyes with it, and they seemed to share some sort of odd expression, before Katrina’s pokemon caught us all.

There was an odd pulling sensation - like being yanked through a taffy stretcher - and for a split second, I could have sworn the sky turned orange, and that I caught glimpses of giant craters in the earth and strange stone spikes bursting from the ground. It must have been a hallucination, brought on by being brought so snug together with all these other trainers and pokemon, and all their collective body heat - right?

Another pulling sensation, and we were back on solid ground. The Spearow were nowhere to be found - neither was Katrina’s bamboo pokemon. I looked at the other two incredulously, but neither of them seemed to be even remotely phased by what occurred.

“Perhaps KATRINA and KOYUKI are now visiting the TAPU SHRINE today.” My partner stated very matter-of-factly. “We will perhaps try again another time.”

“Ah, um... Would you two mind walking me back to town? I’d rather not be attacked by Spearow again.” The other girl spoke up. “Um... Lillie, by the way. If you two were trying to visit the shrine, you must be new trainers? I could maybe help you two get hooked up with pokedexes and trainer passports. I’m Professor Kukui’s assistant, and it’d be the least I could do for you two saving Nebby and I.”

“Th-that would be wonderful, thank you!” I tried to push out excitedly. I was secretly still pretty shaken from our fall and... Whatever that was afterwards, but I think my naturally wavering voice hid it well. Even so, the prospect of actually getting my adventure moving again was a genuinely wonderful thought. “C-could we perhaps bother you for a place to sleep, as well? With air conditioning, if it’s at all possible.”

Lillie looked back at me quizzically. “Air conditioning? At this time of year? Um... ok. I’ll... see what I can do. You did save us, after all.

Come on, let’s go.”

She waved for us to follow her back down the trail. Perhaps I was being paranoid, but I could have sworn I heard her whisper to her pokemon,

“Air conditioning, Nebby! Tourists are so strange sometimes, aren’t they?”

0 notes

ultrasfcb-blog · 6 years

Text

Bournemouth 2-Zero Cardiff Metropolis

Ryan Fraser has scored 16 targets for Bournemouth in 134 appearances for the Cherries

Bournemouth spoiled Cardiff Metropolis’s Premier League return with a hard-earned 2-Zero victory.

Bournemouth had been then awarded a penalty when Callum Wilson was introduced down after a tangle with Bruno Ecuele Manga, however the ahead’s low spot kick was nicely saved by Neil Etheridge.

Cardiff roused themselves within the second half with a flurry of probabilities from set items – the perfect seeing Sean Morrison thwarted a yard out by Asmir Begovic.

However Wilson struck in added time to provide Bournemouth a primary opening day win since they had been promoted to the highest flight in 2015.

Bournemouth’s lavish summer time bears fruit

Neither Lerma nor Rico had been accessible right here however Brooks supplemented a slick Bournemouth midfield and assault, whose motion and crisp passing typically left Cardiff’s gamers flailing.

One such instance led to the opening purpose halfway by way of the primary half, Wilson darting to the byline and pulling a low cross again to an unmarked Fraser, who completed firmly.

Bournemouth managed recreation nicely – Howe

Wilson’s penalty miss threatened to show expensive as Bournemouth needed to face up to a tirade of Cardiff set-pieces that nearly resulted in an equaliser within the second half.

Finally, nonetheless, it was tutorial because it was Wilson who delivered the killer blow, assembly Simon Francis’ cross to complete neatly in added time.

Cardiff’s Premier League return

Nonetheless, it is a Cardiff facet used to confounding the chances, as they did by securing promotion from the Championship final season, a document eighth for Warnock.

Bournemouth 2-Zero Cardiff Metropolis: Neil Warnock says gamers had been ‘nervous’

He’ll, nonetheless, have been a bit of extra inspired by his gamers’ endeavour within the face of strain from the hosts, and the best way by which they fought again within the second half.

Man of the match – Ryan Fraser

Bournemouth had been too fast and skilful for Cardiff, and diminutive winger Ryan Fraser (proper) embodied this superiority

‘We wanted this win’ – what they mentioned

Bournemouth boss Eddie Howe informed BBC Sport: “We had management of the primary half and moved the ball nicely and did not get penned in. The penalty gave us a platform to construct from.

“The second half was a bit extra nip and tuck however we stood up rather well. We stored a clear sheet which we did not do a lot final season which was good.

“If we are able to preserve Ryan [Fraser] match he’ll be a giant participant for us this season. We wanted this win after a poor begin final yr.”

Match stats

Bournemouth registered their first win on the opening day of a Premier League season, having misplaced their earlier three

Cardiff have misplaced on the opening day in simply two of their previous 11 seasons (W5 D4) – however each have been within the Premier League (2013-14 and 2018-19)

What��s subsequent?

Bournemouth journey to face West Ham on the London Stadium on 18 August (15:00 BST) whereas Cardiff face Newcastle at residence (12:30 BST) earlier that day.

Morph.toInit.bundles.push(function() Morph.versions["[email protected]"]=react:"0.14.7",requirejs:"2.2.0",function(e)function t(n)if(o[n])return o[n].exports;var r=o[n]=exports:,id:n,loaded:!1;return e[n].call(r.exports,r,r.exports,t),r.loaded=!0,r.exportsvar o=;return t.m=e,t.c=o,t.p="",t(0)([function(e,t,o)Morph.modules["[email protected]"]=o(1),function(e,t,o)function n()!window.bbccookies)&&(e=window.bbccookies.readPolicy(),e.personalisation&&e.performance&&e.necessary)var r=o(2),s=o(3),i=o(4),a=o(5);e.exports=r.createClass(displayName:"SocialEmbed",render:function()var e,t;return n()?(e=new a(this.props.url,this.props.title),t=r.createElement(i,text:this.props.translations.report)):e=r.createElement(s,url:this.props.url,brandingTool:this.props.brandingTool),r.createElement("div",className:"lx-stream-embed",e,t)),function(e,t)e.exports=React,function(e,t,o)var n=o(2);e.exports=n.createClass(displayName:"LxSocialEmbedMessage",render:function()var e=["lx-stream-embed__message","gel-long-primer"];return this.props.brandingTool&&e.push("br-box-page"),n.createElement("div",className:e.join(" "),n.createElement("p",null,"You are unable to view this content because you have disabled third party cookies. 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You can change you settings at any time."),n.createElement("p",null,"View content: ",n.createElement("a",href:this.props.url,this.props.url)))),function(e,t,o)var n=o(2);e.exports=n.createClass(displayName:"LxReportBtn",render:function()return n.createElement("a",className:"lx-stream-embed__report-button gel-long-primer",href:"/complaints/complain-online",this.props.text)),function(e,t,o)function n()var e,t,o;for(t in i)if(i.hasOwnProperty(t)&&(o=i[t],e=this.url.match(o.regex),e&&e.length>0))return React.createElement(o.component,url:o.transform.call(this,o,e),title:this.title,cssClasses:o.cssClasses,componentMount:o.componentMount);return React.createElement(s,url:this.url,title:this.title)function r(e,t)return this.url=e,this.title=t,n.call(this)var s=o(6),i=o(7);e.exports=r,function(e,t,o)var n=o(2);e.exports=n.createClass(displayName:"LxSocialEmbed__Unsupported",render:function()return n.createElement("a",href:this.props.url,this.props.title)),function(e,t,o)function n()return this.urlfunction r(e,t)return e.url.replace("identifier",t[1])function s(e,t)return e.url.replace("identifier",encodeURIComponent(t[1]))var i=o(8),a=o(9),c=o(10),l=o(11);e.exports=youtube:regex:/http(?:s)?://(?:www.)?youtu(?:be.com,twitter:regex:/^http.+twitter.com/.*/status/(.*)/i,transform:n,component:i,cssClasses:"twitter-tweet",componentMount:function()l.twitter(),instagram:am.com)/i,transform:n,component:i,cssClasses:"instagram-media",componentMount:function()l.instagram(),soundcloud:regex:/(^http.+soundcloud.com(.*))/i,transform:s,component:a,url:"https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?visual=true&url=identifier&show_artwork=true",vine:regex:/^http.+vine.co/v/(.*)/i,transform:r,component:a,url:"https://vine.co/v/identifier/embed/simple",flickr:regex:/^https?.+flickr.com/photos/(.*)/i,transform:r,component:a,url:"https://www.flickr.com/photos/identifier/player",facebookVideo:http.+www.facebook.com/.*/videos/.*)/i,transform:n,component:c,componentMount:function()l.facebook(),facebookPost:http.+www.facebook.com/(media/set,function(e,t,o)var n=o(2);e.exports=n.createClass(displayName:"LxSocialEmbed__Blockquote",componentDidMount:function()this.props.componentMount&&this.props.componentMount(),render:function()return n.createElement("div",className:"lx-social-embed",n.createElement("blockquote",className:this.props.cssClasses,n.createElement("a",href:this.props.url,this.props.title)))),function(e,t,o)var n=o(2);e.exports=n.createClass(displayName:"LxSocialEmbed__IFrame",componentDidMount:function()this.props.componentMount&&this.props.componentMount(this),render:function()return n.createElement("div",className:"lx-social-embed",n.createElement("iframe",src:this.props.url,width:"100%",height:"400",frameBorder:"0"))),function(e,t,o)var n=o(2);e.exports=n.createClass(displayName:"LxSocialEmbed__Facebook",componentDidMount:function()this.props.componentMount&&this.props.componentMount(),render:function()return n.createElement("div",className:"lx-social-embed-facebook",n.createElement("div",className:"fb-post","data-href":this.props.url,"data-adapt-container-width":"true",n.createElement("blockquote",className:"fb-xfbml-parse-ignore")))),function(e,t)var o;e.exports=twitter:function()requirejs(["//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"],function()twttr.widgets.load()),instagram:function()requirejs(["//platform.instagram.com/en_GB/embeds.js"],function()instgrm.Embeds.process()),facebook:function()var e,t=document.getElementsByTagName("script")[0];return document.getElementById("facebook-jssdk")?(o&&clearTimeout(o),void(o=setTimeout(function()window.FB&&window.FB.XFBML.parse(),100))):(e=document.createElement("script"),e.id="facebook-jssdk",e.src="http://connect.facebook.net/en_GB/sdk.js#xfbml=1&version=v2.3",void t.parentNode.insertBefore(e,t))]);; ); BBC Sport – Football ultras_FC_Barcelona

ultras FC Barcelona - https://ultrasfcb.com/football/10262/

#Barcelona

#Football

0 notes

ultrasfcb-blog · 6 years

Text

Bournemouth 2-Zero Cardiff Metropolis

Ryan Fraser has scored 16 targets for Bournemouth in 134 appearances for the Cherries

Bournemouth spoiled Cardiff Metropolis’s Premier League return with a hard-earned 2-Zero victory.

Bournemouth had been then awarded a penalty when Callum Wilson was introduced down after a tangle with Bruno Ecuele Manga, however the ahead’s low spot kick was nicely saved by Neil Etheridge.

Cardiff roused themselves within the second half with a flurry of probabilities from set items – the perfect seeing Sean Morrison thwarted a yard out by Asmir Begovic.

However Wilson struck in added time to provide Bournemouth a primary opening day win since they had been promoted to the highest flight in 2015.

Bournemouth’s lavish summer time bears fruit

Neither Lerma nor Rico had been accessible right here however Brooks supplemented a slick Bournemouth midfield and assault, whose motion and crisp passing typically left Cardiff’s gamers flailing.

One such instance led to the opening purpose halfway by way of the primary half, Wilson darting to the byline and pulling a low cross again to an unmarked Fraser, who completed firmly.

Bournemouth managed recreation nicely – Howe

Wilson’s penalty miss threatened to show expensive as Bournemouth needed to face up to a tirade of Cardiff set-pieces that nearly resulted in an equaliser within the second half.

Finally, nonetheless, it was tutorial because it was Wilson who delivered the killer blow, assembly Simon Francis’ cross to complete neatly in added time.

Cardiff’s Premier League return

Nonetheless, it is a Cardiff facet used to confounding the chances, as they did by securing promotion from the Championship final season, a document eighth for Warnock.

Bournemouth 2-Zero Cardiff Metropolis: Neil Warnock says gamers had been ‘nervous’

He’ll, nonetheless, have been a bit of extra inspired by his gamers’ endeavour within the face of strain from the hosts, and the best way by which they fought again within the second half.

Man of the match – Ryan Fraser

Bournemouth had been too fast and skilful for Cardiff, and diminutive winger Ryan Fraser (proper) embodied this superiority

‘We wanted this win’ – what they mentioned

Bournemouth boss Eddie Howe informed BBC Sport: “We had management of the primary half and moved the ball nicely and did not get penned in. The penalty gave us a platform to construct from.

“The second half was a bit extra nip and tuck however we stood up rather well. We stored a clear sheet which we did not do a lot final season which was good.

“If we are able to preserve Ryan [Fraser] match he’ll be a giant participant for us this season. We wanted this win after a poor begin final yr.”

Match stats

Bournemouth registered their first win on the opening day of a Premier League season, having misplaced their earlier three

Cardiff have misplaced on the opening day in simply two of their previous 11 seasons (W5 D4) – however each have been within the Premier League (2013-14 and 2018-19)

What’s subsequent?

Bournemouth journey to face West Ham on the London Stadium on 18 August (15:00 BST) whereas Cardiff face Newcastle at residence (12:30 BST) earlier that day.

Morph.toInit.bundles.push(function() Morph.versions["[email protected]"]=react:"0.14.7",requirejs:"2.2.0",function(e)function t(n)if(o[n])return o[n].exports;var r=o[n]=exports:,id:n,loaded:!1;return e[n].call(r.exports,r,r.exports,t),r.loaded=!0,r.exportsvar o=;return t.m=e,t.c=o,t.p="",t(0)([function(e,t,o)Morph.modules["[email protected]"]=o(1),function(e,t,o)function n()!window.bbccookies)&&(e=window.bbccookies.readPolicy(),e.personalisation&&e.performance&&e.necessary)var r=o(2),s=o(3),i=o(4),a=o(5);e.exports=r.createClass(displayName:"SocialEmbed",render:function()var e,t;return n()?(e=new a(this.props.url,this.props.title),t=r.createElement(i,text:this.props.translations.report)):e=r.createElement(s,url:this.props.url,brandingTool:this.props.brandingTool),r.createElement("div",className:"lx-stream-embed",e,t)),function(e,t)e.exports=React,function(e,t,o)var n=o(2);e.exports=n.createClass(displayName:"LxSocialEmbedMessage",render:function()var e=["lx-stream-embed__message","gel-long-primer"];return this.props.brandingTool&&e.push("br-box-page"),n.createElement("div",className:e.join(" "),n.createElement("p",null,"You are unable to view this content because you have disabled third party cookies. 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You can change you settings at any time."),n.createElement("p",null,"View content: ",n.createElement("a",href:this.props.url,this.props.url)))),function(e,t,o)var n=o(2);e.exports=n.createClass(displayName:"LxReportBtn",render:function()return n.createElement("a",className:"lx-stream-embed__report-button gel-long-primer",href:"/complaints/complain-online",this.props.text)),function(e,t,o)function n()var e,t,o;for(t in i)if(i.hasOwnProperty(t)&&(o=i[t],e=this.url.match(o.regex),e&&e.length>0))return React.createElement(o.component,url:o.transform.call(this,o,e),title:this.title,cssClasses:o.cssClasses,componentMount:o.componentMount);return React.createElement(s,url:this.url,title:this.title)function r(e,t)return this.url=e,this.title=t,n.call(this)var s=o(6),i=o(7);e.exports=r,function(e,t,o)var n=o(2);e.exports=n.createClass(displayName:"LxSocialEmbed__Unsupported",render:function()return n.createElement("a",href:this.props.url,this.props.title)),function(e,t,o)function n()return this.urlfunction r(e,t)return e.url.replace("identifier",t[1])function s(e,t)return e.url.replace("identifier",encodeURIComponent(t[1]))var i=o(8),a=o(9),c=o(10),l=o(11);e.exports=youtube:regex:/http(?:s)?://(?:www.)?youtu(?:be.com,twitter:regex:/^http.+twitter.com/.*/status/(.*)/i,transform:n,component:i,cssClasses:"twitter-tweet",componentMount:function()l.twitter(),instagram:am.com)/i,transform:n,component:i,cssClasses:"instagram-media",componentMount:function()l.instagram(),soundcloud:regex:/(^http.+soundcloud.com(.*))/i,transform:s,component:a,url:"https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?visual=true&url=identifier&show_artwork=true",vine:regex:/^http.+vine.co/v/(.*)/i,transform:r,component:a,url:"https://vine.co/v/identifier/embed/simple",flickr:regex:/^https?.+flickr.com/photos/(.*)/i,transform:r,component:a,url:"https://www.flickr.com/photos/identifier/player",facebookVideo:http.+www.facebook.com/.*/videos/.*)/i,transform:n,component:c,componentMount:function()l.facebook(),facebookPost:regex:/(http.+www.facebook.com/.*/(posts,function(e,t,o)var n=o(2);e.exports=n.createClass(displayName:"LxSocialEmbed__Blockquote",componentDidMount:function()this.props.componentMount&&this.props.componentMount(),render:function()return n.createElement("div",className:"lx-social-embed",n.createElement("blockquote",className:this.props.cssClasses,n.createElement("a",href:this.props.url,this.props.title)))),function(e,t,o)var n=o(2);e.exports=n.createClass(displayName:"LxSocialEmbed__IFrame",componentDidMount:function()this.props.componentMount&&this.props.componentMount(this),render:function()return n.createElement("div",className:"lx-social-embed",n.createElement("iframe",src:this.props.url,width:"100%",height:"400",frameBorder:"0"))),function(e,t,o)var n=o(2);e.exports=n.createClass(displayName:"LxSocialEmbed__Facebook",componentDidMount:function()this.props.componentMount&&this.props.componentMount(),render:function()return n.createElement("div",className:"lx-social-embed-facebook",n.createElement("div",className:"fb-post","data-href":this.props.url,"data-adapt-container-width":"true",n.createElement("blockquote",className:"fb-xfbml-parse-ignore")))),function(e,t)var o;e.exports=twitter:function()requirejs(["//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"],function()twttr.widgets.load()),instagram:function()requirejs(["//platform.instagram.com/en_GB/embeds.js"],function()instgrm.Embeds.process()),facebook:function()var e,t=document.getElementsByTagName("script")[0];return document.getElementById("facebook-jssdk")?(o&&clearTimeout(o),void(o=setTimeout(function()window.FB&&window.FB.XFBML.parse(),100))):(e=document.createElement("script"),e.id="facebook-jssdk",e.src="http://connect.facebook.net/en_GB/sdk.js#xfbml=1&version=v2.3",void t.parentNode.insertBefore(e,t))]);; ); BBC Sport – Football ultras_FC_Barcelona

ultras FC Barcelona - https://ultrasfcb.com/football/10262/

#Barcelona

#Football

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