#the bees were buzzing in my brain and they needed to be let out

[murdleandmarot]

@realreulbbrband SHES BEEN HAUNTING ME AND ROTTING MY BRAIN SHES SOOO CUTE <3

This lovely lady’s name is Chiffon :))!!

[becoming-less-than]

Master told me I needed to make a post about how I feel when we are done with a training session. Our sessions are a lot of conditioning through association of pleasure with the things Master wants me to internalize. Lots of hypno gifs filled with the best most humiliating and most degrading debaucheries that make me soo aroused and needy, truths he wants me to repeat and internalize until they become second nature and irrefutable. We opted for this kind of training because conventional hypnosis is hard for me my Autistic ADHD dyslexic brain gets easily distracted, or starts correcting grammar, meter, syntax and diction, or the voice of the tist just grates and I tend not to be able to relax into trance. Regardless Master has opted to undermine my current self with pleasure through edging and controlled orgasms. I initially thought this would be mostly ineffective, that it wouldn’t achieve desired results but I am more than able to admit when I am wrong.

Our third such session caused me to drop into a headspace I don’t think I have ever experienced before that time. It was like trying to think through honey. My thoughts felt slow and seemed to stick together in a way that made articulating them very hard. I felt spacey and spaced out like I had disassociated but instead of boredom or distraction being the trigger it was pleasure. Just kind like lost in this syrupy sweet haze of pleasure and contentment that slowed everything down in a way that not even the best drugs or hours of meditation have ever achieved. I was trying to provide feedback on the session so Master could more effectively continue to brainwash me and that analytical process did seem to cause the feeling to burn away quite a bit more quickly than it might have otherwise, but threads of it lingered for over an hour in various corners of my mind.

It was during our fourth session, and my second drop into the warm comforting embrace that he broke my sexual orientation. That he made me accept the reality that I crave cock. Ache to serve cock. To suck cock. To be fucked by cock. And the haze felt even better I struggled to articulate thoughts into sentences, to find words for discrete ideas, to remember what I’d done that day other than edge for Master because he told me to; to repeat the truths he spoke into being within me; and to cum because he commanded me. That sweet honeyed haze lasted until I fell asleep that night almost two hours later.

I awoke with the sticky gossamer of it wrapped around my mind the next morning. It urged me to let go and fall back tried to tempt me into seeking it back out and surrender. I managed to hold off long enough to complete essential tasks,but when they were done, I begged Master to let me edge and he graced me with my fifth session. One that left me appreciably dumb and slow and spacey and blissed for several hours before my next commitment during my day. However, when that commitment ended Master gave me a 6th session I was utterly unprepared for and hadn’t expected.

It left me broken in the wake of it feeling like my head was abuzz with the pleasure of obedience, of pleasing my Master, of being his dumb bimbo cow slut. I literally couldn’t remember the words I was looking for when Master asked me to describe the feeling. I told him “I feel like my head is full of buzzing insects, the cute ones, that are good for the environment and plants, that make honey… bees” it took me nearly 3 minutes to remember the word “bees” and that small humiliation was in and of itself arousing but drove home to me just what an impact this work I am doing with Master is having on me. Things linger longer after each session, I crave them more in between, and I fall deeper, get dumber, and better understand the bliss of service and obedience with each one; they are changing me and I love it!!!

Thank you Master for your time and effort in making me your pleasing dumb bimbo cow. I hope this meets your expectations; and that that success means I’ve been a good girl. Moo! 🖤

[thecampjuicebox]

What if Gale and Tav (romantically involved or interested in each other) got into an argument over if or not he should use the orb to destroy the elder brain and it leads to this exchange:

Gale: If I must use the orb to keep this world safe, then so be it; I'll die to keep you safe.

Tav: *no longer able to keep their tears hidden* I don't want someone who will die for me! *clutches Gale to themself as if afraid that he'll disappear if they let go* I want someone who will live for me. Please...

I've been itching for some more Mr. Dekarios content eeeeeeee this is gonna hurt so GOOD

Someone To Live For

Pairing: Gale x Tav(gn)

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

POV: 3rd Person

Warnings: Angst, talk of death, lots of crying, fluff, game spoilers

Dinner around the fire was awfully quiet that night. The only sounds that broke the somber silence being the crackle of flames against wood, soft chewing, and silverware clinking against dented silver plates. The troubling news thrust upon the group just a few hours prior weighed heavy on each companion's heart, especially Gale's. His mentor and trusted friend, Elminster, paid an unexpected visit to camp. Told Gale of an opportunity to earn Mystra's forgiveness. His words were soft, almost a whisper. "I'm here on behalf of Mystra. The message and the charge I bring you are hers." Tav could feel the guilt bubble up in Elminster's voice in that moment. A sadness they'd never felt before. This had to be bad. "You know where you went wrong, Gale. I trust you've told your fellow traveler here the nature of your ills." Gale shifted in an uneasy manner, tossing his weight from one foot to the other nervously. "I.. Can't say that so far I've volunteered the entire truth."

Tav's stomach sank. Little beads of sweat bubbled up on their forehead and in their eyebrows, threatening to drip into their already burning eyes. "What's going on here?" Tav questioned meekly, their fingers and bottom lip trembling. "Gale?" No response. Just a lowering of Elminster's eyes. "You two have much to discuss after I have taken my leave." He paused his words with a heavy sigh before continuing on. "In short, Gale - through his own doing - has become a living explosive that could wipe from this world this very gathering, and much more besides. For his folly, Mystra forsook him, but now she has decreed he is to be given a chance of redemption." Another small sigh. Tav's eyes shifted from the ancient wizard to Gale, curiosity sizzling in the back of their throat. Gale had briefly explained his dealings with Mystra. Talked of the Netherese orb nestled in his chest, just beside his ever beating heart, and how it needed to consume magic to remain sated. Gale's eyes locked onto Elminster with surprise.

"Mystra would consider.. Forgiveness?" His tone wavered as he leaned toward Elminster, eyebrows raising. The wizard closed his eyes for a moment and spoke softly "She would consider what she considers to be forgiveness. Mystra is aware of the misadventures that have befallen you both. She knows of your strife with the Absolute." Tav couldn't hold back any longer. So many questions buzzed around in their skull like an angry bee's nest. "If the goddess is aware of our situation, why are we facing these threats alone?" The ancient wizard nodded at Tav's question and placed a kind hand on their shoulder. "The very purpose of my presence - in a roundabout sort of way. You must know that the Absolute is more dangerous than you can possibly conceive." An irritated Tav crossed their arms over their chest and huffed. "Yeah, no shit." Gale reaches out to slap their shoulder with the back of his hand and they shot him a look sharp as daggers. It's his fault they were in this mess in the first place. It's his fault Tav feels like they, themselves, could explode at any moment.

Elminster continued, his voice lowering once more. "That is why I have come here to charge you, Gale, with its destruction. it is Mystra's belief that only you can." More questions filled the space behind Tav's eyes. The tadpole wriggled in irritation at mention of the Absolute and Tav winced. "Gale alone? How so?" A question Tav would grow to regret. Gale's lids lowered and his gaze dropped to the ground for a moment, lifting back up to meet Elminster. "The orb.." he muttered. "Precisely." Elminster turned to Tav, eyebrows knitting together at their obvious disdain for the current conversation. One hand lifted to stroke the end of his wiry beard before turning back to Gale. "Mystra has granted me the power to stop the clock, as it were, on the orb's rush to overpower you. Instead, you will be able to unleash it's lethal combustion at will." Fear rose in Tav's chest, their heart thumping at what felt like a dangerous pace. A hand flew out to find Gale's.

"You must find the Heart of the Absolute, whatever that may be, and use yourself as the catalyst that will burn it from this world." Tears stung in Tav's eyes and they wiped them with the back of their right hand, the other still clutching Gale's tightly. In a burst of confidence, Tav raised their voice at the ancient wizard, spittle spraying involuntarily from their lips. "That's monstrous! You're tasking him to kill himself!" Gale sighed quietly and gave Tav's hand a gentle squeeze. "He's not.. But it seems that Mystra is." His face twisted into a scowl, jaw clenching and unclenching between breaths. Tav wanted to cry in that very instant. To scream, grab Elminster by the shoulders and shake the gold from his pockets and the brain in his skull. How could he say such words so plainly? Surely it pained him as much as it pained Tav. Not to mention Gale.. Poor, sweet Gale.

Elminster's eyes fell to the ground and his arms came up to embrace his own torso, holding that position for a moment before reaching for Gale's free hand. He took it in his, squeezing it in a way a father would squeeze the hand of his son with reassurance. "It brings me no pleasure saying this, my friend, but such is Mystra's will. Yours must be the sacrifice that will undo the Absolute. And for your sacrifice, you will be redeemed - such is Mystra's promise." He shakes his head slowly. "With that, I have said my sorry piece, and need only to bestow unto thee the charm I was bid." Tav took a step back from the two wizards, fingers fumbling with each other to keep themselves busy as they watched. Elminster's hand raised into the air, a flurry of purple weave fluttering from his fingertips as he spoke the words "My'Nahastra Mystra'Ryl. E'Deelion Thras'Anas'Tthra." Gale winced as the orb marking on his chest glowed and sizzled, his head turning to the side and eyes squeezing shut at the strange sensations.

"It is done. Both charge and charm have been committed into your care." The ancient wizard's words directed at Tav now, his finger pointing toward Gale as he spoke. "To you, I commit into care Gale himself. I count on you to shepherd him well on this strangest of journeys." Through tears, Tav simply nodded. They wiped their eyes with their sleeve and turned to leave the scene before they lost their composure completely, boots shuffling against the dirt and stone of the campsite. Still, Elminster spoke. His words a bit louder to make sure Tav could still hear him, even though they were almost out of sight now. "Like moons make swell and wane the nescient seas, so too the sky-strewn gods obtain the tidal fates of mortal days. And yet - a notion born in lonely hours - come ebb, come flow, come all that is beyond the breadth of our dominion: be a moon unto yourself. Even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will. Farewell, my friend." With a puff of dark smoke, Elminster disappeared into the afternoon air as quickly as he had arrived. Gale sighed and palmed his eyes for a moment to clear the threat of tears, mumbling quietly to himself. "Farewell, Elminster. I'm glad she chose you."

Tav sat themselves on a nearby rock, hands covering their now wet eyes. They sobbed and cursed into the air, tears hot like lava streaming down their warm cheeks. How could Gale agree to such a disastrous fate? They despised Mystra for such a request. Why Gale even sought forgiveness from the baneful goddess in the first place, Tav couldn't understand. Why beg for any attention from the wretch, especially after all she'd put him through? Cast him out, stripped him of his position of her chosen, and now had the audacity to preposition him to blow himself up for her forgiveness. Bile burned in the back of their throat at the mere thought. There must be another way. A gentle hand rested on Tav's shoulder and they gasped in surprise, quickly wiping the remaining tears from their cheeks before looking up at the figure in front of them. Gale stood there, lips curved into a frown. "I'm sorry.."

...

Weeks passed now, Tav and Gale growing closer and closer each day they traveled together. The immanent threat of the orb still lingers in the back of Tav's mind. How they'll stop Gale from needing to use it in any circumstance. The shadow curse poses a new threat to their wellbeing now, and with each step closer to Moonrise, Tav can feel the impending doom grow near. With a deep sigh, they settle into their newly acquired spot in Gale's tent, legs outstretched and crossed in a relaxed position after such a long day. Gale sits to their right, nose deep in a tome he'd picked up at the Last Light Inn. An interesting read about the history and making of honey mead. Tav rests their tired head against his shoulder, eyelids fluttering as a toe-curling yawn forces its way in and out of their lungs. Gentle fingers tap a random rhythm against Tav's thigh and Gale sets his book down to encircle his lover in his arms tightly, his nose buried into the soft locks of hair. He inhales deeply. Their scent invades his nose and he exhales happily.

"Has your plan.. Changed at all?" Tav mumbles, eyes opening now to watch as Gale shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Their question perplexes him. "My plan?" he asks, adjusting their position so Tav is sat on his lap now. Sweet fingers brush a strand of deep brown hair from Gale's eyes. "To use the Orb, my love." Tav sighs. A twisting feeling in their gut tells them they may already have their answer as Gale scrunches his nose and tightens his grip on Tav's hips. Near bruising fingers knead at the flesh there and Tav places their hands on his stubbly cheeks, forcing him to look them in the eyes. "Gale.. Answer me." The wizard blinks at his lover for a moment, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. He can't speak. Can't muster the courage to tell them the truth that he does, in fact, intend to continue with the plan to use the orb. With a frown, Tav presses their forehead to Gale's, bottom lip quivering. "Please tell me it isn't true.. Please.." their voice cracks as tears threaten their eyes.

"I can't lie to you." Gale finally speaks. Large hands rub soothing circles at the small of Tav's back. A hint of anger bites at Tav's thoughts, evolving into pure rage in a matter of seconds. They yank away from Gale, standing and quickly storming out of the tent and into the cold night air. Gale blinks slowly at the sudden change of attitude and shuffles to his own feet. "Tav, come back. Let's talk about this." he calls, shoving the tent flaps open and squinting his eyes into the darkness. The air is bitterly cold. A heavy shiver rattles Gale's spine as he steps out and toward their trembling partner. Tav stands in front of the pile of smoldering wood in the middle of the circle of tents, arms crossed, head resting against their own shoulder as they mull over their words. They roll their tongue behind their teeth and turn to the wizard, face red. "Talk about what, Gale? Talk about your willingness to just.. To just.. Explode?!" Gale is taken aback by the venom in their voice and he raises an eyebrow, throwing his hands up into the air in frustration.

"You wanna talk about your willingness to leave me?" Tav's voice breaks and Gale's heart goes along with it. The metaphorical steam billowing from his ears and nostrils settles and he reaches for Tav's body, Tav swatting reluctantly as his hands as the take short steps away from him. "Tav, please.." he begs. His own resolve falters as Tav continues to back away from him into the dark. The heavy scent of burning wood and smoke assaults his nostrils as he feels around in the dark for Tav's figure, stumbling over a log and toppling into a rigid body with a thud. The air falls still as they stand for a moment, waiting for each other to speak. Finally Gale breaks and he reaches for Tav's cold fingers, intertwining them with his. He gives them a gentle tug toward his warm body, encircling them in the tightest embrace he can muster. "Speak to me..". he mumbles into their pointed ear, breath steaming in the frigid air.

"You're going to do it, aren't you?" Tav asks again as they nuzzle their face into Gale's chest, the velvet of his robe comforting and soft against their cheeks. A hand reaches up to smooth down Tav's messy hair as Gale ponders his next words carefully. Sure his true intentions would fall on deaf ears right now. He's in love with Tav. He'd do anything to keep them safe. To make sure they make it out of this alive. His heart thumps in his chest, blood near boiling with anxiety as he places his hands on Tav's shoulders and tugs them away from him, forcing eye contact. "You know that.. I love you, right?' Tav's stomach drops. They nod slowly, eyebrows knitting together tightly as their bottom lip quivers. "Of course I do.." Oh gods, here it comes. Heat rises in their throat and they swallow the lump harshly. Gale inhales deeply through his nose as he prepares his words, tugging Tav close to him again to avoid having to look them in the eye. He can't bear to watch them cry.

"If I must use the orb to keep this world safe, then so be it; I'll die to protect you." The damn breaks, tears cascading down Tav's cheeks in an uncontrollable stream of salty waterfalls. Their grip on Gale tightens now, fingers grasping at the back of his robes as if he'd vanish in their arms in that very instant. Their voice cracks and trembles through their sobs, heart skipping in their chest. "I don't want someone who will die for me!" their voice raises to a strained yell. Fists raise from around Gale's waist and to his chest, pounding weakly against it with saddened rage. Gale's eyes fall closed, a tear of his own trickling down his cheek and into his beard. His hands snap up to grasp at Tav's wrists swiftly stopping their, albeit weak, assault on his ribs. Their eyes meet his and they finally fall apart, knees buckling beneath them as they force out their next words. "I want someone who will live for me.."

Gale kneels down, face nuzzling lovingly into Tav's stomach, his hands resting on either side of their thighs. With a heavy sigh, Tav tangles their fingers in the wizard's hair, sniffling and blinking tears away from their long lashes. Gentle fingers rub soothing circles into where they lie and Gale speaks softly, voice partially muffled by the way his forehead rests on Tav's pelvis now.

"I'd die and live a thousand times if it meant eternity by your side."

[syn4k]

Doc chronic ilness/pain that man works too hard or he has to take his mech arm off for pain/fatigue reasons and is trying to do shit anyway even though he needs rest. Also have this song it's related in my brain https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=0hEQi-cmnQY&si=SBkzpTLoj12w4Yw5

He's also a system 2 me <3 hivemimd supremacy

(that is a girl-tier take on the hivemind whats it like having a huge brain)

Doc sighed frustratedly as he tried and failed once again to weld a piece of metal with one hand.

The Hivemind had been cajoling him to take a break and rest, dammit, especially since the whole reason he was working with one hand at all was because his arm had started to dig into his shoulder and sting and it was going to draw blood soon if he hadn't tossed it aside with a low growl and his vision was blurry and his back ached and his muscles were leaden and-

You need to take a break, They hissed. The Hivemind's constant bee buzz in the back of Doc's mind tickled sometimes, but he'd gotten used to it over the years.

"It's fine, guys," he muttered with a small chuckle that he didn't quite feel. He always responded out loud when he was alone. It was easier than having distinguish between his thoughts and Theirs, anyways, and They could hear. "I'm just tired, that's all."

You're about to burn your finger, a quiet solitary voice chimed in, and Doc snapped to and adjusted his grip on the welder before dropping it and veritably growling with frustration. He felt the muscles in his legs start to work, and he desperately fought to stay in the chair. "Guys. Guys! It's fine! Let me- give it back!"

No, They hummed smugly.

"We only grind here, remember?" said Doc through gritted teeth, finding himself standing up suddenly as the buzzing in his mind grew louder. "Twenty-four seven."

Can't grind forever without taking a break, said the Hivemind, sing-song. You may be the G.O.A.T, but you're still mortal, and that means you have to sleep sometimes.

"No," said Doc, losing his grip on the chair and, briefly, his vision, as he saw from a distance (it felt like) himself going to the closet, his hand opening the door and grabbing a blanket, then shutting the door and walking over to his bed. "Dude, give my body back. I was in the middle of a project, guys."

You can finish it tomorrow, said one voice.

Or next week, suggested another. Anyways, no, you're getting a nap.

"One day I will kick you guys out of here and you will have nowhere to go," mumbled Doc, who was now tucked into bed. "No one to come home to."

And you won't have your 73,492 braincells, They responded cheekily. No, make that 73,493. Another one just joined the Hive. Good night, Doc.

The last thing Doc remembered before he passed out completely was a vague sense of grudging affection towards the Hive that populated his mind, and a chorus of quiet laughter that was laughing at him but for him at the same time.

[stars-and-birds]

Hiii wenclair nation i miss you

Getting some nostalgia so here’s a scrapped wip I’m not sure I ever posted

Enid dangled upside down on her bed, watching Wednesday pack her black flashlight and black rope and black knife into her black backpack. It was past curfew, but Wednesday was up and dressed, planning to go stake out a house she thought might be related to the monster. Enid wrinkled her nose.

“Why can’t I go with youuuuuuuuuu?”

“For the last time. You need to be here in case Thornhill and Weems come poking around, which they have an unfortunate habit of doing.” Thing hopped on her shoulder, his fresh coat of black nail polish perfectly matching Wednesday’s stubbornly goth aesthetic. Enid let out an exaggerated sigh that dragged on and on and on and on and—

“Shut up.” Wednesday grimaced, glancing down at Enid with a glare she had become all too familiar with. If looks really could kill everyone would be dead.

“Whatever. You still owe me. For the bee thing.” Her and Eugene were on better terms now, but she could still remember the terrifying buzz that had seemingly closed in on her the moment Eugene let the bees out. For whatever reason, Eugene had stopped hitting on her as well. Enid assumed this was because Wednesday had made him, but he would sometimes glance over and giggle at them whenever Wednesday dragged Enid into the shed for some likely illegal scheming. It annoyed Enid to no end, especially when he would just shake his head and grin that weird little grin of his whenever asked about it.

Wednesday paused packing her particularly shiny medieval mace (black of course) and turned back down to stare derogatorily at Enid.

“I suppose an Addams always keeps her word. What do you want?” She turned back to her backpack.

“You’ll give me anything?” Enid rolled over onto her stomach, hair flying around her head like a tornado.

“Anything reasonable and within my power, yes.”

Huh.

“Like… a unicorn?” She challenged playfully

“Difficult and disgusting but not impossible.” Wednesday said without missing a beat. Enid rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, no way.”

“I could.”

“Knowing you, you probably could.” Enid relented. Knowing Wednesday, she would stop at nothing to get it should Enid dance with disbelief any longer.

“Okay. How about… the Mona Lisa.”

“You want me to break into one of the most famed museums of all time to steal one of the most prized artworks in history. As a favor for spending an hours worth of time with some bees.”

“No, just wondering if you could.” Enid said, gazing up at Wednesday still packing her things. Gosh, she was so pretty. The way the fading moonlight caught on her midnight hair, glimmered in her eyes, danced across her lips, dusted her eyelashes. She really was beautiful. Objectively, that is. A friend could think a friend was beautiful. Obviously. And anyways, anyone would think the same. Most people did, after all. Wednesday seemed to have boys falling over themselves and tripping for a half hearted smile never to be earned.

“There has to be something you can’t give me.”

“Try me.” The words were a challenge, an invitation. Okay then.

“An iPhone 13 Pro”

“Security would be laughable”

“A sarcophagus. A gold one.”

“My family stores some in our basement.”

“Water from the fountain of youth.”

“I have some on meat the moment”

“Wait really?” Enid raised her eyebrows in disbelief. Wednesday ignored her, continuing to pack. Enid shook her head. Of course Wednesday did.

“What aboutttttttttttttt.” Enid racked her brain, trying to think of every myth and legend she had heard of that could stump the unstumpable Wednesday Addams. Maybe not an object, then.

“What about a kiss.” The words crawled out of her mouth unexpectedly, without an coherent thought or reason. Wednesday stayed silent, and Enid laughed nervously. Yeah no. She wasn’t sure what she’d been thinking. It’s not like she wanted Wednesday to kiss her. Though… hypothetically would she hate it? Like maybe a friendly peck on the cheek… but then an all too vivid image Wednesday and her kissing on the lips imprinted itself into Enid’s mind, and she could feel her cheeks turn redder than tomato.

“Well,” she laughed nervously again.

“Guess I stumped you.” She straightend on her bed as Wednesday shouldered her backpack onto her left shoulder, and turned to face Enid. Enid looked to the ground, trying not to show how much red had bloomed on her cheeks, or worse, have Wednesday somehow peer into her mind with her penatrating gaze and see every thought that had sneaked its way through the cracks into Enid’s mind. A shadow cast over her, and Enid glanced up to see Wednesday… eye to eye with her, so close Enid could see the brown specks in her seemingly void black eyes. Wednesday’s eyelids narrowed, her eyebrows furrowing together like rabbits cuddling for warmth. Like she was thinking, considering.

“Wha-”

Without warning, suddenly and unexpectedly, Wednesday leaned in and kissed her. It was like the first snowflake, cold to the touch but then melting on her skin as Wednesday pulled away before Enid could even consider kissing her back. Shock spread through Enid, pushing her back onto her bed and tripping her words.

“I… uh. Um. Uh.”

“We’re even.” Wednesday’s words were a careful knife cutting through Enids careless own, as she pushed herself to her feet and walked out of the room. Enid watched her leave, hand covering her mouth.

Holy shit

Wednesday Addams had kissed her. And the real stumper? Enid had enjoyed it.

[mareenavee]

WIP Whenever~

Hello my friends <3 Been tagged by @thequeenofthewinter to participate in WIP Wednesday Wife Worship Wednesday! I never get to play this because Nyenna and Athis have... so, so many problems. But today we do, because Nyenna is dreaming. Having brain nonsense, really. But first, tags.

Let's go! Tagging the most esteemed @paraparadigm, @changelingsandothernonsense, @thana-topsy, @rhiannon1199, @snippetsrus, @orfeoarte, @inquisition-dragonborn, @the-storytellers-seer, @archangelsunited and @polypolymorph!

Below the cut, part of Chapter 28 from The World on Our Shoulders.

---

She heard the wind before she felt the morning mist on her skin. Things were slowly greying, like a light after she’d hidden under her covers. The sun, maybe, though she couldn’t recall when last she’d seen it. It hid behind clouds, mimicking her own hesitation. She opened her eyes, not having realized they’d been closed before. Whatever this was, with how quickly the image changed, she was thrown off balance at best. But the mist — yes. This felt familiar. Something like Whiterun, out by the river. Yes. The tundra cotton. She could see it now. She could feel her hands and feet where they’d only been vague concepts before, and liminal ones at that. She sighed and flexed her fingers. She’d never seen Skyrim in the height of summer, but she’d always imagined it like this — warm, plenty of flowers. Even bees buzzing, working as if all was exactly as it had always been and not this odd dream-version of things. Nyenna turned her face to the sun, let herself bask in its warmth as if she was one of the scraggly trees which dotted the landscape. She reached her arms toward it, and a dusty blanket fell from her shoulders with a strange, muffled, heavy sound. “What are you doing?” came a voice. Familiar, but distant. Something ached in her chest at the sound. Athis. Gods, she missed him. Her heart hurt trying to decide if he was really here or if this was some cruel madness. Likely the latter. She turned anyway, her grey mage robes billowing in a warm breeze that cut across the plains. He was as beautiful as she remembered — all the stress gone from his eyes, none of the weariness held in his shoulders or jaw. The weariness she’d caused. “Waiting for you,” she felt herself saying, though this seemed like a lie. He accepted it easily. He ran a hand through his ginger hair, ebony mail gleaming in the summer sunlight. She closed the distance between them and crushed into his embrace, heedless of heavy layers of metal between them. He didn’t say anything, only shifted to hold her against his chest. He smelled of mead and snowberries, like he always did. The memory struck her like steel against steel. Like she’d only dreamt of leaving, and she would wake up any moment now, wrapped in his arms, skin against skin. “I waited so long,” Athis said, voice quiet and somber, incongruous with the life that thrummed through this place, like the cry of Nirnroot at the river’s edge. “I’m sorry. I was on my way back to you,” Nyenna said, and somehow, that too was a lie. She tried again, forcing the words from her throat, which still hurt. “I miss you.” “Do you?” Athis asked. Not sarcastic, nor accusatory. A question, which needed an answer. A real one. “Of course.” He accepted that, too, and kneaded the muscle of her shoulder blade as he held her. He’d looked off into the distance, eyes focused on the mountains or the clouds. Mist gathered on his beard, his armor; he seemed like a permanent fixture here, rooted deep into the soil, never to be cut down. And she loved him. The ache of it was tearing her apart. She’d do anything at all — anything — for this to be real. For this image to love her back. She looked at him and felt rootless. Unmoored. A scrap of parchment fluttering in an ethereal breeze, belonging nowhere and to no one. He took her face in his hands, expression still oddly distant, eyebrows knit in confusion. He kissed her and her eyes fluttered closed. This was was right. If she had to be lost in a dream, then she was glad it was one of Athis.

[itsbrandy]

A Very Bee and Dieter Christmas

Summary: Set in the Burnout universe. Bee hasn't experienced a full fledged Christmas before. Dieter goes all out to make it the best.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: Fluff. Fluffy Dieter because he just looks so fluffy. Mention of the word "butthole".

A/N: If you celebrate, I hope you all had a wonderful holiday. Hope the new year brings you good health and happiness <3

“I’ve never been big on Christmas,” Bee said, leaning back in her chair. She’d just taken a heaping bite of homemade fettuccine alfredo, courtesy of Claire, who looked at her funny.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Claire asked. “You’ve never been big on what?”

The two of them were sitting at the table, catching up for their weekly girl’s night, where Claire insisted on cooking dinner for Bee, complete with a wine pairing. She also insisted that Bee bring the dogs over so that Claire could have her “shared custody meetings.”

“Christmas,” Bee said. “I’ve never really, y’know.”

“You need to be more specific,” Claire said. “You’ve never gotten presents?”

Bee shrugged. “No, not really. Christmas isn’t really a real holiday, isn’t it? Not for adults anyway.”

Claire was wide-eyed. “I should slap you.”

“What? Just because I don’t like Christmas?”

“No!” Claire protested. She pointed at Bee with a forkful of noodles. “Because you’ve never really experienced Christmas, and you’re judging a perfectly good holiday based on what? Disappointment?”

“Can’t be disappointed if you never had expectations in the first place,” Bee said with a shrug.

Claire groaned. “You’re the worst, Bee. Actually, the worst best friend I’ve ever had. Well, be prepared for expectations this year. You have an actual cool best friend and an actually decent boyfriend.”

Bee finished another bite of pasta. “Dieter’s more than decent. He’s great.”

“My point exactly,” Claire said, finishing off her glass of wine.

As Bee left Claire’s house that night—picked up by Dieter himself because she’d had a little too much wine—she couldn’t help but feel overburdened by the thought of a real Christmas with expectations. Sure, she’d enjoyed getting little gifts and new clothes from her mom as a kid in the years they could afford them, but she’d never given or received gifts as an adult. At least, not like they do in the movies.

“Do you like Christmas?” Bee asked Dieter as they drove to his place.

“I love Christmas,” Dieter said. “Why? Do you have something against celebrating?”

“I—” Bee stopped herself from saying that she thought Christmas was stupid. The thought sounded so juvenile in her buzzed brain. Plus, she didn’t want Dieter to think that she didn’t want to celebrate with him. She did, she was just afraid.

Yeah, afraid of Christmas. How dumb.

“I’m just not used to it,” Bee said.

Dieter was silent for a moment, and he reached to turn the radio down.

“Well, do you want to get used to it?” Dieter asked as they pulled into the garage. “I’d love to celebrate with you. It’s been years since I put up a tree or stockings or anything.”

“I do make really good cookies,” Bee said.

Dieter turned the car off and planted a kiss on Bee’s cheek.

“You make the best cookies,” Dieter said. “Better than any cookie I’ve ever had before.”

“That sounds like an innuendo,” Bee wrinkled her nose. “Get away from me, creepy old man.”

Dieter smiled and rolled his eyes. “Okay, let’s get you to bed, Miss Tipsy. We can talk more about sugar cookies and Christmas presents in the morning.”

****

Before Bee knew it, Bee was coming home from a rehearsal to find Dieter at the top of a very tall ladder, trying to arrange the top part of the 12-foot tree. He stood all the way up, balancing himself by placing a hand on the ceiling.

Dieter never did anything small, which was part of Bee’s concern over Christmas. Within a few days of their initial conversation, a massive, 12-foot Christmas tree was delivered to his house by a poor, scrawny Amazon delivery man. A smorgasbord of lights and ornaments followed that first delivery, plus stockings from Pottery Barn with their names embroidered on them—the really nice ones.

“What do you mean we’re doing this ourselves?” Bee asked. “That looks dangerous. Can’t you hire someone?”

“Oh my gosh, Bee,” Dieter said. “Hiring someone to put your Christmas tree up is so unChristmassy. Plus, I’m almost done. I’m literally putting the top on. Can you start fluffing the bottom?”

“Fluffing?” Bee asked, hands on her hips.

“Yeah, pull apart the branches,” Dieter said. “Like this.”

He demonstrated by pulling apart a few of the artificial tree limbs at the top to make the tree seem more full, but doing so made him unsteady on the ladder. Bee rushed forward to grab the bottom of the ladder and stabilize it.

Spooked by his near-fall, Dieter begrudgingly climbed down the ladder and planted a relieved kiss on Bee’s lips.

“Okay, maybe I’ll hire someone,” Dieter relented. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. “But only because I’m kind of afraid of heights.”

“Then why did you do it, silly?” Bee pulled back to look into his eyes. “If you’re afraid of heights, why are you at the top of a thousand-foot ladder? Where did you even get it?”

Dieter shrugged. “Home Depot.” Then, he sighed. “I really want you to have a good Christmas, Bee. I want it to be special.”

“It can be special without a head injury,” Bee said.

Dieter pulled her close again. “Now that I can agree with.”

****

The team Dieter found to assemble and decorate their over-large Christmas tree made his house look stunning, and garland wound its way through each rung of the staircase in Dieter’s house. The living room was warm from the heat of the oven going in the kitchen, where Bee had baked an absolute marathon of Christmas cookies.

Claire would come over in the early afternoon to decorate them with her girlfriend. Then, they would all open presents together. Fudgy and Marshmallow sat on the couch in matching Christmas pajamas.

There were presents under the tree, and Dieter had found a playlist on Spotify called ‘Relaxing Jazz Christmas’ that played on a loop.

He was perched on the couch with the dogs, watching Elf while Bee pulled the last batch of cookies out of the oven.

“There is one present I want you to open before Claire comes over,” Dieter said as Bee walked into the living room.

“What’s that?” Bee asked. She held a mug of hot coffee out for Dieter to grab and held one of her own close to her chest.

“I’ll grab it,” Dieter said, setting his coffee down on the side table.

He walked over to the pile of presents under the tree, then bent down on his hands and knees to retrieve a small box from down by the lowest branches.

Bee’s breath caught in her chest. There’s no way he was proposing to her like this, was he? They hadn’t even talked about marriage—it was too soon. No, Dieter would never propose like this. Bee took a deep breath. It was a suspiciously sized box, but there was no way he would spring marriage on her without at least broaching the topic first.

“It’s not a ring,” Dieter said, calming Bee’s fears. “I promise.”

“Good,” Bee said genuinely.

“Okay, now I’m a little offended,” Dieter teased, rejoining her on the couch. “What if it had been a ring and I’d lied? Then you’d be feeling like a butthole, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe,” Bee laughed.

Dieter set the small present down in her lap. It was wrapped in shiny red and white paper and tied with a perfect little bow. Bee could tell Dieter had put a lot of effort into tying it.

“Open it,” he said.

Bee did. First, she carefully pulled apart the ribbon and then peeled the paper back by the tape, careful not to rip it.

“We need to train you better,” Dieter teased. “You’re supposed to tear right into it.”

“This feels special,” Bee protested. “I’m trying to be gentle.”

When the paper fell away, there was a box inside. It was unmarked, and when Bee opened it, there was a simple key inside.

“What’s this?” Bee asked, furrowing her brow. “I already have a key to your place.”

Tears sprung to Bee’s eyes, and she clutched the key close to her chest.

“So, I thought…” Dieter said. He shifted the position he was sitting in, obviously a little nervous. “Well, okay. I had a better speech planned for this, but I just thought that we spend so much time going back and forth between our houses, and I know you take great pride in being a homeowner. I don’t want to ask you to move in with me. I’m giving you this key to let you know that I’m ready to buy a home with you when you’re ready. It doesn’t have to be now. It could be years from now. But when you’re ready, I am.”

“I’m ready,” she said. “I’d love to buy a house with you, Dieter.”

Dieter kissed her.

“Merry Christmas,” Dieter said.

“Merry Christmas.”

[rozieramati]

8/4/23

my brain feels so numb. completely devoid of everything. not empty. just absent. like yes, there's something there, but also, i have not the consciousness to recognize it, yet.

usually listening to music helps me get out of this state of un-feeling. but it's not working.

usually this state suggests the calm before a storm.

i have reason to predict a storm.

maybe it's a good storm. i don't feel calm though. i feel numb. this happens when i can't feel what comes next. to a degree, i can mostly feel what comes next. how one action will lead to a certain outcome. that's what drives me, the inner knowing. but today it was taken from me.

sometimes i know deep down what the truth is and i'm not un-knowing, but rather, in denial. that's not what this is though. it's as if i'm not supposed to know. this happens from time to time. all is up to the wind. where will it carry me?

i can feel the swarm of the new coming towards me. like bees buzzing in a pretty bubble. the problem i face, is the fact that this new is so rampantly unfamiliar. there's no way of telling how it'll end up. or how it'll feel. or how i'll get through it all.

i'm trying to beat my usual self-destructive tendencies. i think i'm doing an ok job. if i were to grade, i'd give myself a C+ in improvement. i was really very good for a couple days. i don't know how to live healthily. that's a lie, i do. but it's hard to be consistent in living life, and to not fall back into my obsessive ways of being.

i know i need to let go of my previous ways of existing. at least the unhealthy aspects of it. i wish i had more control over my obsessions.

i think if i get out of bed and read in the park it'll all be okay.

the thought of that action alone made me feel better.

it's 10:40 am. i think i just need to inspire myself a bit. be with myself for a moment. there's definitely more magic in the tree stump i'll be leaning on, than in the phone to the left of me.

[jungle-angel]

“Honey We’re Shrunk!”: Chapter 4 (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Royal was right, there was something weird about that hole in the west pasture. So what happens when Rhett, (Y/n), Amy and their kids wake up one morning and find that they’re only as big as a flea? Shit’s bound to ensue somewhere.  

Tagging: @sebsxphia​ @peachystenbrough​ @bradleybeachbabe​

Walking through the backyard felt like walking through a huge forest, with danger around every corner and never knowing what lay ahead. The flowers in the garden seemed like trees, their stems as thick as the trunks while the heady scents reached the six Abbotts from high above. 

“Mommy I’m hot,” Tatum complained. 

“Me too,” Tanner said, chiming in with his twin. 

“C’mon my little honey bunches,” you said to the kids. “We’re looking for shade, don’t worry.” 

One look at Rhett and you knew you needed to find a shady spot soon, his face having gone red and the sweat shining on his skin in a thin layer. Every little bit of shade you came across seemed to evade you, like a mirage in a desert. But at last, you crossed that endless sea of grass to the old tree near the porch that had once been planted well over a hundred years ago when the land was first settled. 

The shade was a welcome relief, but so too was the clattering of the drainpipe on the side of the house, a sign that rain had come in the night. “Rhett?” you asked. “Rhett you ok?” 

Your husband’s thousand yard stare quickly turned into that mischievous grin you knew a little too well. “You know darlin,” he chuckled. “It’s hot out and it rained last night. Are ya’ll thinkin what I’m thinkin?” 

It took a minute before it all clicked and you realized what Rhett was getting at. “Yeah but how are we gonna get up there?” 

Out of the grass flitted a bee, a huge bumble with a rather adorable little fat behind and all covered over in fuzzy looking black and yellow fur. The kids were absolutely delighted by his buzz, reminding them of all the stories that Rhett and Cecelia would read to them on warm summer nights. 

“There’s our ride,” Rhett answered. 

Rhett gave a shrill whistle and sure enough, five more bumblebees zoomed out of the grass and landed right before you. God they were adorable, so fuzzy and plump from having fed on the nectar and pollen in the flower garden. “Are we really gonna ride the bees?” you asked him.

“All the way to the top,” Rhett said with a grin.

You sighed but were excited anyways at your husband’s hair brained schemes. “Alright babies, we’re going for a ride!” you announced rather loudly.

Amy, Hannah and the twins cheered as they hoisted themselves onto the backs of the bumblebees who were as patient as well trained horses. As soon as they were on, the bees spread their wings and lifted off into the air, zooming high above the grass to the gutters on the roof while Diesel watched from below. You and Rhett waved to him before you landed and hopped off near the opening to the top of the drainpipes. 

Rhett thanked the bees with a playful scratch on the head but you knew they would be waiting down below just in case. 

“Daddy are we gonna slide down the drainpipe?” Hannah asked. 

“You bet babies, let’s go!” 

Amy was first, a little scared but bravely zooming down in the water nonetheless. Hannah followed close behind her along with the twins, their joyous shouts echoing all the way down. 

“Well darlin?” 

“Well what?” 

“You gonna join or not?” Rhett laughed. 

“I’d be insulted if you didn’t let me,” you laughed. 

You took his hand and followed him down, the thick river of water carrying them down, down into the darkness of the plastic piping and into the little indent in the grass, just deep enough for a swim. Each time you wished to go again, the bees carried you up, only for you, Rhett and the kids to splash back down again. 

“Again, again again!!!” the kids demanded. 

“Daddy can we do it again?” Amy asked eagerly.

Rhett had been about to answer when a foreboding sound was heard up above, the skies threatening and darker than usual. 

You both looked at each other, calmly trying to shuffle the kids out of the water and into the safety of the grass. “We’ve gotta get outta here before it rains,” Rhett said nervously. “One wrong move and we get washed into the creek.” 

You and Rhett each took the kids by their hands, frantically searching for a place to go. Finally you found it, a little tunnel under the tree that was perfect for you to fit in. Hurriedly you rushed when a loud *PLOP!* was heard nearby, the first raindrops beginning to fall to the ground. Rhett immediately picked up Tatum first and dropped him into the sandy hole and Tanner after him. Amy was next and Hannah being the last before you and Rhett slid in after them, rolling into the soft dirt before you all moved back a little bit. 

A big boom of thunder suddenly crashed outside, startling all of you at once. Hannah curled right into Rhett, her hysterical cries muffled a little by the noise. “I know Hannah-Banana, it’s ok,” he assured her. 

“Daddy I don’t wanna be little anymore, I wanna go home,” Hannah sobbed. 

Pretty soon, all the kids were sobbing, you and Rhett trying to keep it together for their sake. You both wanted nothing more than to be normal sized again. Though you had gotten a taste of the adventure you both desperately craved, you wanted to be normal sized again, to sit in the book barn and read to your babies, to sleep in your own bed again. 

Whether it was the lull of the storm or the kids crying themselves out, you all soon fell asleep, deep in that sandy burrow, all piled against each other. You had never slept so deeply and so soundly than you had at that moment, just the six of you who were as close as could be. 

[atangledfate]

Lover’s Quarrel

Laying there in the little bed her Uncle made up for her, and reading Carol’s messages had made her smile. It was comforting to know that they were working things out, and she really did hope that who ever this guy was, he made Carol happy. She sighed closing her eyes and laying her phone on the table next to her. She really should get some rest, but her mind was wandering as it did when she was bored. Not like she would ever prank Shu, no way she learned the hard way that what ever she could dish out! that old Codger could dish it out 10x’s worse! lessons learned as a kid she would never forget!

Her Phone buzzed again and she picked it up reading the text, this time it was from Whisper. Her heart caught in her throat, she hadn’t spoke to Whisp since she ran off to find Mimic. She hadn’t spoke to her since... since she dug herself out of that hole. Since she crawled her way down that road. She barely recalled who found her, just that she was found and that Whisper was missing for a long time after. When she did return she was a mess, a gunshot wound to the stomach. Espio had found her, lucky enough but just barely in time. 

Her mind drifted back to that day, outside the infirmary, it was such a painful memory...

Her feet fell against the marbled floor, as she raced her way down the lobby of the hospital. Dodging her way around civilians, and doctors alike and straight out the lobby door. She burst outside still in her hospital gown, and her head was bandaged tight. She wasn’t suppose to be up, but she couldn’t stop herself, the text she got from whisper had shook her to the core. 

‘ I’m leaving today Tangle, i’m going to finish things. “

She could see the wolf, not far ahead of her, and despite her head throbbing and even the dizzyness she called out to her “ WHISP! WAIT! “ she shouted, her hand outstretched toward her. The Wolf paused turning herself toward Tangle and placing her Rifle on her shoulder. The bandage around her mid-section visible but, she didn’t seemed bothered by it. Not as much as Tangles concussion. Then again Mimic brained her with, a steel rod she was lucky to be alive. 

“ Where are you going? you got shot... i never thought i’d say this but... you should stay until they release ya...”

The Wolf smiled but shook her head and sighed looking off to the side. Her hands moved to form signs, which tangle had been learning she still wasn’t the best at it. Whisper went slow though, as always she knew Tangle was not the best at signs.

✋ I’ll be Ok, I Have to find him Tangle, settle things for good  ✋

The Lemur looked off to the side and clenched her fists tight

“ Then let me come with you... let me help you! “ 

The Wolfs face hardened and she looked away from Tangle unable to even look her in the eyes.

✋ No, This is to personal Tangle. Things aren’t like before, things are different i need to handle this. I need you to be safe... please,  ✋

Tangle closed her eyes, all she could think of was she was leaving again, she was gonna be alone again. Why did she keep doing this? They were almost happy after The outbreak and then, Mimic showed up and ruined it! Why couldn’t she just be happy?

“ So you’re leaving me AGAIN! “

Tangle shouted tears in her eyes as she rubbed at her face trying to stop her emotions.

“ I thought... we partners? i thought we were something! fightin’ together, watchin; each others backs! i’m not some kid Whisp! I can handle myself, i can handle Mimic! I dun need you to bee my guardian Angel! “

She shouted at the top of her lungs! so loud that she was sure that whole parkinglot heard her. But Whisper barely budged other then her eyes opening and giving Tangle a very stern look, one that chilled her to the bone. 

✋ You almost Died, he targeted you because he knows i care about you. You are a liability.  ✋

She growled baring her teeth at Whisper and shouting even louder

“ AM I NOW! CAN’T TAKE CARE OF MYSELF IS THAT IT! “

Tears were welling up in her eyes, was that how she thought of her? a Liability? a Weakness? 

“ and what happens when you don’t come home huh? what happens when i have i have to bury you? What happens when i’m the one left alone? you almost died this time to! and i don’t wanna lose you either! please just let me help you! you aren’t alone damn it! you have friends! allies! people that love you! “

She took a deep breath and slammed her tail into the pavement in frustraition!

“ Will you stop living for the dead for once in your life! “

She caught herself near the end realizing what she said, and covered her mouth with her hands. But she couldn’t take it back could she? She didn’t mean it, she didn’t! but she said it and she couldn’t undo what was said.

“ Whisp... i didn’t... i didn’t mean...”

But the Wolf simply pulled her Mask down, and turned to walk away. She didn’t respond to Tangle, no matter how loud she yelled or how much she apologized the Wolf simply lifted her Rifle and used the hover mode to float away.

She snapped back to the present and held her cheek reading the message, she was almost scared to read it. After what she said could there relationship even be salvaged? Was it just---over for them?

Sniperwolfnakita: How Are you? Sniperwolfnakita: Just wanted to check in... Sniperwolfnakita: See how you were... Sniperwolfnakita: Let you know i’m ok,  Sniperwolfnakita: Let you know i miss you...

She rubbed her fingers on the phone, trying to fight back her tears but it was hard.

ringtailedmischiefmaker001: I’m ok, just visiting my Uncle... ringtailedmischiefmaker001: Staying with him for a bit ringtailedmischiefmaker001: I Miss you to... ringtailedmischiefmaker001: When are you coming back... She hesitated fearful the answer might not be what she wanted or worse, never  at all.

Sniperwolfnakita: Don’t know, Sniperwolfnakita: Still Tracking him... Tangle ears laid back and she just wished she’d come back, or let her help or anything really.

ringtailedmischiefmaker001: I’m sorry about what i said... i didn’t mean that, it was cruel and i’m an idiot Sniperwolfnakita: You were upset Sniperwolfnakita:  I know this is hard on you Sniperwolfnakita: I’ll make it up to you when this is over... promise

Why was she the one making it up to her? That wolf was so---confusing! She tapped her thumbs on the phone quicker then before, even if it was a simple final message. ringtailedmischiefmaker001: I love you... Sniperwolfnakita: Ditto... See you when i see you... stay safe. 

She wasn’t sure she bought it, that whisper wasn’t mad, or hurt. But at least she was ok, at least she knew she was still out there. More then that that maybe, things weren’t as damaged as she thought.

“ Just gotta... have a little hope...”

She whispered and hugged her pillow against her. Sometimes Hope was hard... but its all she had left wasn’t it? She had to hang onto it...just awhile longer. She let her eyes close, and decided----sleep was what she needed right now more then anything. 

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Delicacies of Time

Chapter 2: Nonsense

Nonsense

Who are all these voices?

Fuck off, Lost Boy.

What are they doing here?

Living.

Is this what you live with?

Live with? This was living?

We're part of the package, unlike you, parasite.

Parasite.

Vermin.

Dark One.

Baelfire.

Who said those words? Just another voice. Just another tone in his head, a dull ever-present ache. Who said that? Who was speaking?

The witch again.

The witch?

The Wicked Witch.

Zelena.

Pest. She thinks highly of herself. What's she saying this time?

When does she ever stop talking?

When do we stop fighting?

The urge. The surge. Do this! Do that!

Fight it! Refuse! You can't make me eat my peas!

Fight it for Belle.

For Emma and Henry.

Wasn't there a monkey once? A great winged beast.

She sent it after them. Swallowed up in a tornado.

Must be caught inside the cyclone!

Familiar. He knew that line from somewhere. Somewhere...

Somewhere over something?

Somewhere. Out there?

If love can see us through.

Love. True Love. In this room. Belle…

Wasn't she just here?

He'd kissed her at this very wheel.

TMI.

But he'd dreamt of doing much more than that.

Focus. Please.

And then he'd done more than that.

New subject. Why is she back? What is she doing?

She…she…the Wicked Witch, standing at the table while something in the air shifted.

He'd felt this before, this stir in the air.

Magic?

Evil magic.

Dark Magic.

Focus! The presence in his brain was prickling. It was rustling. His head hurt. The pain was nearly unbearable, but he could feel the crowd in his head shift, could feel them swallow the boy up as the Dark Ones pressed forward to get a look for themselves. It had been so long since they'd been allowed to do magic. They were yearning for it like addicted junkies who needed a fix, and now it was in the air. And it was familiar.

The Curse! One of them realized.

The Dark Curse! Another clarified.

And something more…something that crazy green bitch is working on.

It's familiar, he realized.

Step the fuck aside! Neal cried in his head.

No…not Neal. He didn't need that voice right now he needed the others.

Demons in your head! It's like New York Times at 11:59 on New Year's in here!

Wolf's blood!

Dragon's scale!

We've made that before!

That's our spell!

I invented it.

I perfected it.

It came from our potion books!

Stolen!

Thief!

Villains, all of you! Let me through!

Wolf's blood.

Dragon's scale.

A familiar potion.

I've tasted this brew before.

Memory potion.

Memory potion? For what?!

Why?

Why?

Why?

Shut the fuck up and listen!

"We're about to take an unplanned trip, my pet."

We're nobody's pet!

I swear to God…

"The Curse is coming!"

His head was buzzing!

Dark Curse!

The Curse is coming.

Again!

And buzzing.

Another one.

Why?

Wicked Witch.

Evil Bitch!

Stop!

The Land Without Magic!

Stop!

Like a hive of upset bees!

You're making it worse! Listen!

Listen. An unplanned trip to the Land Without Magic.

That's where Emma is. That's where Henry is! Stay the fuck away from them!

Far away! She should never have encountered them; she never should be in the same world they are. She shouldn't want to be there.

Emma's the Savior, right?

Emma can fix the Curse.

She can take us to Emma? To that world.

Yes…but the only reason she'd want to, the only reason she would allow such a risk when she was so content to do her work here…

It's a failure.

She failed.

You failed.

Failure.

You failed.

Failed.

If she goes to Emma, she'll lose. I'll be home.

Failed…

Freedom!

The door to their cage…it was open.

Every voice in his head silenced at the sudden release. Even Baelfire.

But escape was pointless. Attempting it was pointless so long as Zelena had the dagger in her possession, so long as there were too many voices in his head that couldn't make up their mind to go left or right.

"Don't be so dour," Zelena stated, blocking his exit. Two bottles. There were two bottles of the same brew in her hand. Two…two for who?

"What I need to do can be done from any land. I will succeed in changing the past. My spell will work."

Changing the past again.

Going back in time. Impossible.

Theory!

Nimue scoffed.

Shut up! The Curse works by erasing memories, doesn't it? She obviously didn't cast it, she'll forget, won't she?

Fool!

Dreamer!

Non-magical bastard!

Parasite!

Enough.

It would work that way normally. She would be cast in another role, and all her work would be forgotten. But that was what the memory potion did. A strong enough version would enable someone to keep their memories even through a stripping like the Dark Curse. While everyone else flailed helplessly about in their confusion, she'd be able to continue her work…

But only, if you remember it…

Papa…what have you done? What did you create?

A monster.

"Which I will…with this…" Zelena replied, holding one of the bottles with the tonic up proudly. His tonic, one the Dark Ones had perfected over the years. One he'd taken before but chose not to use for the last Curse because he didn't see the point in being awake and living in hell for twenty-eight years.

Hell.

This was hell.

Focus! Fix this! For Henry.

"To keep my valuable recollection safe and sound…" she whispered the words as if it were a toast and then daintily sipped the potion down. Inside his head, he heard…he felt a…groan.

Neal?

This is gonna be bad, isn't it?

It already was.

Here…

Something was pressed into his own hand then. The second bottle. She'd given it to him?

For us?

To us?

We don't trust her!

"Drink it. Dump it out. Sing it a song. Your brains are still mine. If you want to remember the loss of your son, so be it."

Yeah, I'm still here, bitch…

"But, if you prefer to stumble about blind and stupid with the rest of them, be my guest."

Something wrapped around his hand. Her hands.

Loathing!

Detestation!

Horror!

Every voice, every soul, every fiber of his being retched in response to the kiss she pressed to his hand.

Disgusting.

But at least she left then. She reclaimed the dagger, but at least they didn't have to look at her.

Or hear her.

Or smell her.

Or feel her.

A shudder rocked through his body as he beheld the bottle in his hand.

Wolf's blood and dragon scale…he'd taken it before.

We've all taken it before.

What's it do?

Restores and enhances memory.

Memories…

Memories are pain…

Which was why he'd chosen not to take it for the first Curse. Too many memories that he was happy to forget for twenty-eight years. He was happy to pass it by in a blur, weak like the rest of them.

Pain is strength.

Wait, wait! Enhances and restores memories. Could it override a memory spell, even one put there by the Evil Queen?

It's our spell. Our magic is far superior to hers.

Emma!

It wasn't as though he needed memories in this state. Crazy with them. Crazy without them. Maybe it would be better…for vengeance!

No!

Neal screamed. He was screaming. He was fighting. Fighting for control of his hand? For more.

No! Pain! He felt the wall at his back. He felt a clawing at his mind, in his head around his neck, forcing the bottle away from his mouth!

A plan! I have a plan!

An idea?

A plan.

Half an inkling. A hunch.

I have a plan!

No!

Papa! Let me try…

Papa…

It was a plea just heartbreaking enough to allow him to surrender to darkness.

[casspurrjoybell-19]

CLAIMED - Chapter 31

*Warning: Adult Content*   

The space between the Head Warrior of the Crescent Moon Pack, Corey Cahill’s eyelids burned and everything was heavy, an invisible force compelling his limbs into immobility. 

'Why can't I move?'

On second thought, were they even attached to his body? 

He couldn't tell.

No, this wasn't right.

He was too open, too exposed, too defenseless to hold his own if someone were to attack. 

Any Warrior would know that. 

He needed to get to safety and fast.

'I just need to figure out how to use my hands, first.'

A shrill beeping echoed to the back of his skull, growing more rapid by the second as it taunted him. 

The sound reverberated endlessly, the void of his brain warping any sense of time to the point where he wondered if it would ever stop.

‘Was I dead?’

Certain religions dictated that his preferences for men would eventually lead to his descent into hell and the ache in his forehead coupled with the state of defenselessness that he currently found himself in quickly led to the beginning stages of entertaining such a horrid concept.

Luckily, before his mind could take that evil thought and run wildly with it, something interrupted his outlandish flight of ideas.

A sensation. 

In the form of a barely detectable pressure on his phantom arm.

Someone was here.

"Hey, it's okay," that someone soothed. "Don't worry. I've got you."

Corey knew that voice. That voice was unmistakable. That voice was home.

The soft, slightly husky drawl rushed over Corey’s rigid nerves like the warm, rising tide of a beach and instantly lowered his guard in some raw, indefinable way.

The sensation increased as whatever was touching him stroked a gentle caress up and over his body to finally rest on his forehead. 

And just as quickly as it started, that echoed beeping began to slow and the knife behind his forehead dulled it’s assault to the whisper of an ache, leaving nothing but exhaustion in it’s wake. 

‘How did he do that? Maybe this person was magical, too.’

The world wobbled behind closed eyelids as enervation became him.

He needed to sleep. 

"Go back to sleep, my love. I'll be right here when you wake up. I promise."

The Voice spoke as if he had managed to extract just what Corey needed directly from the jumbled confines of his mind and his skin buzzed with contentment and something much stronger than joy when something plump and indescribably soft pressed against his lips.

Corey’s immediate instinct was to lean into the touch, to press back with a force so bruising that the owner of The Voice wouldn't be able to escape his claim even if they tried.

But seeing as to how his brain and body were still more than delighted with existing on completely different planets at the moment, acting on said desire was not a current member of his exceedingly slim arsenal of options.

Maybe once he got all stitched back together, whoever owned The Voice would let him take them on a date. 

Yeah, he could settle for that.

Maybe.

Why was everything so heavy?

He needed to sleep.

                                                      *****

The sun was just a small sliver of light over the horizon when Corey’s mind finally caught up with his body and decided that it was a good time to bring everything back online.

Mostly everything.

His head still felt like it had been stuffed so full of cotton that it was bursting at the seams and his left arm was tingly, like a swarm of bees had used it as a pincushion. 

But at least now, he could feel it.

It took every ounce of strength that he possessed to drag his eyelids open, the feat somehow proving more difficult than even the most strenuous days of Warrior Training. 

But it didn't matter if he needed to tear his soul apart to achieve it, he would do whatever it took. 

‘This was more important than me, more important than anything. Because more than anything else, I needed him.’

Crescent Moon Beta, Jaxson Ortiz. 

‘My Jax. Was he safe? Was he happy? Where was he?’

After peeling his eyes open with the force of a thousand Goddesses, a glance to his left answered all of Corey’s questions.

A familiar shock of black curls greeted him, adorning the crown of the only man who held the key to the kingdom of his heart. 

Jaxson was more than a vision as he lay curled up in the slim amount of extra space in the infirmary bed, freckled arms and thighs clamped tight around Corey’s bicep and forearm like a human koala.

Even in the depths of slumber the Beta was unyielding in his grip and although it was likely that Corey’s arm would require medical attention after blood flow was restored, it was without a moment of hesitation that the Head Warrior decided he would much rather risk an amputation than deny his Mate anything.

His love for his Mate was a boundless thing, so ingrained into the basis of his will to exist that it physically hurt sometimes. 

It weaved an everlasting web of Jaxson throughout every ounce of Corey’s being, one that he would voluntarily tangle himself up in for all of eternity.

‘My Jax. My gift. My mate. I would give him everything.’

Corey did not realize what he was doing until he felt movement stir underneath his palm. 

He tried to salvage the situation by staying as still as he could manage but a quick tap into their Mating Link revealed that it was already too late. 

Jaxson was awake.

Luckily Corey’s guilt was short-lived, far surpassed by the way his chest swelled at the sight of Jaxson yawning, leaning his cheek into his Mate’s palm, and fluttering open sleepy lids to reveal the emerald beacons that blazed beneath them.

‘If he got any more beautiful throughout our lifetime together, I certainly would not be able to stand it. Nor would I be able to let him leave our home without an army of trained bodyguards by his side.’

Now that Corey thought about it, that actually was a very good idea. 

But now was not the time to be an Overbearing Mate, so the Head Warrior forced himself to add the bodyguard plan to a mental to-do list with the intention to revisit it at a later, or sooner, date.

Corey managed to wrangle his drifting thoughts back to the present, albeit with much more resistance than expected, only to be met with wide eyes staring back up at him, their verdant depths a sea of shock and stupefaction and he bristled with concern.

"Who hurt you?" Corey demanded, more so than asked, skipping the pleasantries in favor of getting straight to the issue at hand. 

His voice crackled like a fire, the quiet sound uncharacteristically rough around the edges as it escaped his throat.

His beloved blinked at him wordlessly for a long moment, something peculiarly introspective swimming around in his sleepy expression. 

Then, after an eternity and a half of torture, Jaxson leaned up, replying to Corey’s worried inquiry by pressing those impeccably soft lips against his Mate’s own, currently chapped ones.

‘Oh. I suppose that's the sensation that had happened earlier. Jax had kissed me.’

A kaleidoscope of butterflies erupted within Corey and he certainly would have gotten lost in Jaxson like limbs to quicksand if it hadn't been for his Mate assuming the responsibility of the reasonable one and dragging their faces apart at the last moment.

"I'm totally fine, you earthworm," Jaxson whispered playfully, although Corey could tell that his Mate was using the jest to conceal a monumental volume of relief. 

The Beta’s eyes held the Head Warrior’s eyes with an intensity that would have sent Corey to his knees if he were standing, so he instead released the urge by crushing Jaxson against his chest.

"Hmm," Corey grunted, yanking his right arm extra hard when his IV resisted the distance at which he was stretching it in order to wrap his arm completely around his Mate's lean body.

Jaxson giggled at Corey’s brashness but the Warrior ignored it, instead opting to satisfy the unavoidable need to bury his face into the Beta’s neck and nip at the Claiming Bond Mark that decorated his skin.

‘What had we been talking about, again?’

A stifled moan rattled a growl out of Corey as he pressed his canines down firmly but not hard enough to puncture and his fingertips dug into the skin of Jaxson’s lower back with enough pressure to turn them white.

The Beta’s Bond Mark was a lot more healed than Corey remembered it being the last time that he saw his Mate. 

That didn't make sense, as did many things at the moment but remedying this situation was much more important of a task than figuring out why.

‘I need to Bond Mark him again, to sear my Mate’s insides with the proof of my claim. If I could just Bond Mark him again, it would fix everything. Because Jax is mine. Mine... mine... mine.’

"As much as I love it when you hump me like a rabid wolf, I'm going to have to ask for a rain check this time. I'm too damn worried about you to get slick right now, anyway," Jaxson said, pressing his palms flat against Corey’s chest, pushing as if to ask for an unacceptable amount of distance to be put between them. 

Corey could have easily resisted, his impressive Beta strength bearing a laughable challenge to his own. 

But naturally, the Pack Warrior’s instant surrender to his Mate’s desires was a testament to Corey’s weakness for Jaxson.

"Worried?" Corey tilted his head, confused "About me?"

Jaxson's brow furrowed in an adorable display of puzzlement and a slim hand slid up to brush through Corey’s hair as they locked eyes once more.

"It's okay. You don't have to always be strong around me," Jaxson whispered, leaning in to rest his forehead against Corey’ own. 

The Beta’s lips were so close that the Head Warrior almost had another out-of-body experience in his attempt to resist them. 

"You can't just ignore the pain. Trust me I've tried it and we all know where that got me."

Corey blinked, the gears in his head freezing over as he tried to piece together what in the hell Jaxson was referring to.

"Pain?" he questioned, attempting to coax out any additional information that could possibly key him into what was going on. 

Maybe if Corey figured it out, he could then find a way to entice Jaxson towards their bedroom and complete his very good, very genius plan of mauling him. 

"I am not in pain."

Jaxson was the one who blinked this time, long lashes bouncing against star-freckled cheeks as he gazed deep. 

His mouth opened, closed and then opened again before he finally spoke and Corey found his eyes obediently following behind the movements of Jaxson’s lips.

"Wait..." Jaxson began, shuffling back and pushing up to sit on the bed instead of lying next to Corey. "Can you... can you tell me what happened yesterday?"

Inside of Corey’s head, he frowned. 

What was the point of this route of questioning?

"Jax. Are you feeling alright?" Corey counter-questioned while moving to sit up, only to be immediately met by a searing headache that forced him to flop back down into his previous position with a barely-concealed wince.

"Don't try to sit up too fast yet, you'll hurt yourself," Jaxson instructed, pressing down on Corey’s shoulders to make a point. 

The Head Warrior relented with an unhappy grunt but even that couldn't stop him from reaching over to wrestle his Mate’s hips into straddling his thighs. 

Corey needed Jaxson as close as he could get him right now.

"I need you to tell me what you remember about yesterday. Please, just humor me," Jaxson pressed on, hands resting palm-down against Corey’s stomach and the patient sighed in defeat not even half a heartbeat later.

Corey didn't know why Jaxson desired so desperately for him to recount such a mundane thing for him but quite honestly, he would sell his left kidney if it would help ease whatever anxiety had grabbed a hold of his Mate so tightly.

"Well..." Corey started, looking up toward the ceiling with concentration. "We went to Suzy's Restaurant, you apologized to everyone and then you sat on my face and I fucked you with my tongue until..."

"Okay, okay. That's good enough," Jaxson clamped a hand over Corey’s mouth to halt the very obvious direction in which his saucy recollection was going, cheeks red as a fire hydrant though his expression was unexpectedly dire. 

Corey couldn't help himself as he stuck out his tongue to lick his Mate’s palm in an attempt to entice a happier look onto his face but concern filled the Head Warrior as he was only met with a distressed whine.

‘Oh No. My Omega was scared and somehow I was the source of his fright. I would fix it. Even if it killed me, I would fix it.’

Corey’s  body moved without him, his Wolf, Dashiell thrashing around wildly as he flipped Jaxson like a pancake. 

The previous headache bloomed behind his forehead with a newfound vengeance but this time he didn't care about making the pain go away. 

The only pain that he cared about, the only pain that mattered, was that of his Omega's.

Corey caged Jaxson between his limbs like a zookeeper gone mad as he hovered over him, dipping his head to rub his cheek over any exposed skin that he could reach. 

He would give his Mate his scent, bathe him in his essence and leave him dripping with it if that's what it took. 

Corey just needed Jaxson to be okay again.

‘I couldn't help myself. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't lose him.’

Corey was so engrossed in the quest of scrubbing himself into every molecule of his Mate's beautiful soul that he hadn't even noticed that, at some point during his assault, Jaxson had pressed the nurse call button. 

But it was abundantly clear once the instinctual recognition of someone else entering the room made every hair on the back of the Head Pack Warrior’s neck stand up.

Lowering himself down on top of Jaxson, Corey shot a glare so sharp that it could cut diamonds across the room at the unwanted intruder. 

The man had pink hair and sported a slim, less-than-daunting stature but it didn't matter. 

Stunted in height or not, he was a threat that Corey simply could not risk.

Something much more than a roar worked its way out from the pit of the Warrior’s chest and the room echoed with it as he maintained his protective stance over his Omega. 

If the pink-haired trespasser didn't take that as a notice that he was more than unwelcome, Corey was not above launching himself across the room to invent new ways for his arms and legs to bend.

"Hey, hey Corey, look at me. Everything is going to be alright, he's here to help us."

Jaxson's voice penetrated through Corey’s rage and he felt hands cup his cheeks and yank hard in the opposite direction to which the Warrior was staring but this time he wouldn't allow his Mate to win. 

He had to keep the danger within his range of sight in order to ensure his lover’s safety. 

No matter what Jaxson said, Corey would stay firm. 

He had to.

Jaxson yanked at Corey’s face again, the act much more desperate this time as the Warrior bared his canines at the threat. 

His muscles tensed in anticipation of bloodshed when the pink-haired man did not vacate the premises at his demand.

"Corey, it's Doctor Benji. You know him, he's a part of our Pack, our Medic. He won't hurt me, I promise."

‘Benji?’

Corey’s resolve only slipped for a fraction of a second at the familiarly-unfamiliar name but that was all that his smart Mate needed to force his head to swivel down to him.

"See? I'm perfectly fine, Alpha. Doctor Benji is only here to help. Come on baby, remember for me."

Corey’s fists shook where they had punched into the mattress on either side of his Omega and he resisted the urge to fall to his knees at Jaxson’s request.

He tried his best to remember, to dislodge something from the steadily worsening itch between his eyes but trying to extract anything useful was like swimming from a shark through molasses. 

The task was simply impossible.

His breath hitched, the passage between his mouth and lungs narrowing with an overflow of emotion.

“I... I...”

"Shh, it's going to be okay. Take your time, my love. There's no rush."

Corey nodded gently, wheezing out a few resistant breaths in an attempt to form the truth on his tongue. 

It took a bit to gather up the courage and even when he did, the words came out as a solemn whisper.

"I... I can't remember," he finally admitted, the lump in his throat sprouting barbed wire. "I can't... why can't I remember?"

A drop of wetness dripped from Corey’s chin, adding to the gallery of freckles that dotted Jaxson's cheekbones and his Mate’s thumbs instantly came up to wipe at the moisture under his eye. 

If Corey’s vision wasn't so blurry he wouldn't have missed the way Jaxson glistened with similar wetness but the wobble in his Mate’s voice filled in the gaps.

"I know you must have so many questions," Jaxson replied in a fractured whisper. "And I wish that I knew what to say. But we don't have the answers quite yet. I'm so sorry, my love."

Corey’s elbows weakened and then gave out and he used the opportunity to curl his entire body around Jaxson like a lifeline. 

He wondered if he was crushing his Mate’s smaller frame but the Beta made no movement or sound of discomfort, so Corey decided to allow himself the momentary indulgence.

‘I need him. He is the only thing that I know, the one person that I would never forget, even if it meant cracking open my own skull to retrieve our memories.’

Jaxson's body shook against Corey’s but the smaller man continued speaking through his tears nonetheless.

"I know it's scary. I know." 

‘That was the understatement of the year but I didn't bother to correct him.’ 

"But this?" Jaxson shimmied their position so that he could grasp Corey’s wrist and place it on the left side of his chest.

‘The way it pulsated underneath the expanse my palm was nothing short of holy.’ 

"This won't ever let anyone hurt you. You just have to trust me. Please."

Corey nodded, clutching his Mate ever closer into the confines of his body as Jaxson’s warmth flooded through him.

There was no question.

"I will always trust you."

It was then that a high-pitched cry rang out and Corey groaned, hunching to hold his head in his hands as if that could do anything to soothe the sensation that made his brain feel like it was about to herniate straight through every single hole in his skull.

"Oh, sweet baby. Shh, it's okay." 

Corey could hear a pair of feet scatter across the infirmary room, as well as a voice that he definitely recognized somewhere deep down.

And then, just as another helpless cry sounded out into the room, something shattered.

A single memory. 

A memory that was certainly not his. 

A memory of...

"A baby..." Corey breathed as the pain in between his eyes suddenly abated to an itch. 

"My brother..." he continued as the memory flashed across his mind like the clearest movie. 

"Theon."

[dear-ao3]

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Ooming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Oheck it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks!

Youguys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey

sticks,dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check. - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Oool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those? Oopy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Ohemical-y. Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Oandy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Ooming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him? - I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny! What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure! There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All

right,here it goes. Nah. What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Oome on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Oan I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Ooffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Oan I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no!

You'redating a human florist! We're not dating. You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee? How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. - You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be

lunch formy iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Orazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no! - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours. - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads! Pinhead. - Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. "They make the honey, and we make the money"? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no! There's hundreds of them! Bee honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor. Do these look like rumors? That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. How did you get mixed up in this? He's been talking to humans. - What? - Talking to humans?! He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! Make out? Barry! We do not. - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on? The bees! I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. I remember that. What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! Even if it's true, what can one bee do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt. - No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more bee beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Ohung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former

queenshere in our studio, discussing their new book, Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. - Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Oase number 4475, Superior Oourt of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson? Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see

how,by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? - No. - I couldn't hear you. - No. - No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police. But you've never been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! That's not his real name?! You idiots! Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it! Order! Order, I say! - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on our side. Are we doing everything right, legally? I'm a florist. Right. Well, here's to a great team. To a great team! Well, hello. - Ken! - Hello. I didn't think you were coming. No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery. I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. Oh, that was lucky. There's a little left. I could heat it up. Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. So I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. That's where I usually sit. Right... there. Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the rightjob. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - What's that? - Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but

thereare other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends? - Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Oould you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your

smokinggun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Vanessa, we won! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. I'm OK! You know what this means? All the honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey is out there? All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing? My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Oan't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Oannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on? Where is everybody? - Are they out celebrating? - They're home. They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me? - This. What happened here? That is not the half of it. Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think that is? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. It's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course... The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? I know this is also partly my fault. How about a suicide pact? How do we do it? - I'll sting you, you step on me. - Thatjust kills you twice. Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out

likethis. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry? - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down? Oould you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you with the flower shop. I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. - Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. Thank you. It was a gift. Once inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! Yes, I got it. - Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea? It goes under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby'll do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Oaptain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species... What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke? - No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... That's Barry! ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But

isn'the your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small... Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense." - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out! Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Oome on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance. We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say? Are we going to be bees, orjust Museum of Natural History keychains? We're bees! Keychain! Then follow me! Except Keychain. Hold on, Barry. Here. You've earned this. Yeah! I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Oan I help who's next? Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see

anickel! Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! I had no idea. Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. Sorry I'm late. He's a lawyer too? I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. Have a great afternoon! Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next? All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. Thank you, Barry! That bee is living my life! Let it go, Kenny. - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go. - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is. Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that.

- bee movie anon

[whisker-biscuit]

The Birds, The Bees, and The Bottles

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T for mild language and discussions of underage drinking

Summary: Two teens are caught trying to sneak into a bar. Bob finally has a conversation he’s held off for far too long.

Because herbaphony is not the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family.

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

Bob’s phone rang at two in the morning. Judging by the jolly ringtone of Helmut singing Strawberry Fields Forever, it was his personal phone instead of his work one, and that was the real tip off to things being very, very wrong.

He woke up and groggily pulled out of his still-slumbering-husband’s arms to answer the little thing going off on his nightstand.

“H’lo?”

“Bob!” Truman’s voice came out far too loud for the time of night, and far too stressed. “Bob, I’m so sorry to wake you, but something happened with Lili. I need you to pick her up for me, please.”

The older man sat up, much more awake as worry and fear immediately rolled in his gut. Helmut finally began to stir beside him, sensing his partner’s agitation.

“Truman, what’s going on? Pick Lili up from where?”

“The city’s police precinct on Abbey Avenue. She – she called me, but I’m out of state and I wouldn’t get there for hours at least even if I left this instant. She’s not in danger!” He added hastily, hearing the concern before Bob could even voice it mentally. “She didn’t get hurt! She’s just…”

The way he tapered off, the way he hesitated, said more than words could.

“She just got herself into some trouble, and she needs someone to go get her.”

Helmut was sitting up now, and Bob felt the question cross their mental link.

 What happened?

 Truman needs me to pick Lili up from the police station.

“I’m up, I’m on my way right now,” He responded to his nephew verbally, heaving himself out of bed. His husband followed suit despite still looking extremely puzzled, bless him.

“Thank you so much, Bob. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The older man waved a dismissive hand even though Truman wasn’t there to see it. “Family is s’pposed to do that for each other anyway.”

“Did I hear that right? Our peppy petunia had a run-in with the law?” Helmut asked as soon as his partner hung up. He paused, and in a lower tone – “she didn’t kill anyone, did she?”

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Bob said, pulling a coat on over his sleep shirt. “But something tells me we still have a few things to worry about. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Ohohoh, no, don’t even think about hoofin’ it without me. We both know I’m the better driver.”

“Neither of us are very good drivers, Helmut.”

“Exactly! That little bit makes all the difference!”

The herbophanist sighed, charmed despite himself and the situation. “Alright, alright. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

The police precinct was nearly dead at this time of night. While it would’ve felt eerie to anyone else, Bob was grateful for the lack of people, and not just because he was still an introvert of the highest degree.

Two teenagers awaited them in the lobby, sitting on a bench together. One was hunched over and burning a hole in the ground with his downcast eyes. The other sat straight up, defiant, holding a glaring contest with the officer standing over them. When Bob entered the room first and met his great-niece’s eyes, her self-assuredness wavered for a brief moment. She hid the slip-up behind a wall of indifference.

“Lili,” he said softly. Then, just as softly but with a gruff tinge of surprise; “Razputin.”

There was no accusation in his voice, but the former scowled harder and the latter looked like he wanted to employ his invisibility. Bob studied them both a moment before his husband appeared and broke the tension with his mere presence.

“We’re here to bust you out, kiddos!” He announced with spread arms, cheerfully ignoring the looks he received from every person in the room.

“Are you Truman Zanotto?” Asked the officer who finally broke his gaze away from Lili to give them a disapproving once-over.

“No, I’m uh, I’m Bob Zanotto, and this is Helmut,” came the awkward reply. “Truman called me to pick Lili up. She’s my great-niece.”

A few seconds of silence passed as the officer made no move to do anything with that information. Bob cleared his throat.

“We’re, uh, listed in her emergency contacts for school?”

“I see. If you can just fill out some paperwork first, we can release her into your custody.”

The herbophanist watched the way Raz seemed to sink further in his seat at the mention of family contacts. The Aquatos were also out of state right now too, if he remembered correctly. Perfect timing for two minors getting up to mischief.

Well, up until they were actually caught.

“And…Razputin, too?” He asked, catching the teen’s startled gaze and giving him the mental equivalent of a thumbs-up.

The officer raised a brow. “Is he related to you, too?”

“Well, uh –”

“Yep!” Helmut interrupted, strolling right up to Raz and giving him a merry clap on the back. The teen had a physique comparable to most adult Olympic athletes, but even he nearly toppled forward from the force of such a big man. “He’s my third cousin, twice removed. Big family. Very close. Holidays are an experience, lemme tell ya!”

“Fine,” the officer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, okay, I’ll make sure he gets cleared for release too. I’ll be right back.”

He stalked off, muttering something about it ‘being too damn early for this’, and the older couple turned to face Raz and Lili. Helmut steepled his fingers together to rest against his mustache.

“So! Now that Officer Spoil-Sport is gone, are we allowed to know what heinous crime has been committed in the night by my favorite pair of mischief-makers?”

The two glanced at each other. Raz was the one to break their silence.

“We, uh…got caught sneaking into a bar.”

Cold heat rushed through Bob’s core. Helmut blinked once, twice, then let out a boisterous chuckle.

“That’s it? Jesus! From the way you two were acting I thought you’d robbed the First National Bank.”

“…Helmut.” His husband murmured. The psi-king lost his mirth as he caught Bob’s eye.

“Ah…w-well, y’know, while I’m certainly glad we won’t hear about a righteous homicide in the news tomorrow, forgery ain’t exactly a humble hobby either.”

“It was just two IDs,” Lili muttered under her breath. “Not a big deal.”

The ice in her great-uncle’s heart turned frigid, but before he or Helmut could say anything to that, the officer was back. He shoved a handful of forms under Bob’s nose and the herbophanist fumbled to grab them before they all tumbled to the floor.

“Uh, uh, thank you.”

“Alright, we’re putting the pause on this conversation to make you free citizens again, but don’t think that means we’re done with it.” The Psi-King gave the teens the sternest look he could manage. “As soon as we get in the car, you two will have a lot of explaining to do.”

“O-Okay.”

“Uh-huh.”

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

No one spoke a word as they got in the car and started the drive back.

Raz seemed content to continue his efforts to blend in with the background of his seat, still not meeting anyone’s eyes, and Lili stared out the window with her chin in her hand, leaning against the car’s backdoor and letting the lights of the city bathe her in neon sickness.

Helmut, bless his soul, dutifully kept the radio going while he drove, changing the station to something more mellow whenever a song started getting a little too upbeat for the collective mood of the vehicle. Bob sat in the passenger side with his arms folded awkwardly. His brain was buzzing, dreading the inevitable conversation he needed to have with his great-niece and trying to figure out how he was going to go about it.

It surprised them all when Raz spoke over the music.

“It was my idea.”

The two adults glanced at each other, then through the rearview mirror at the fidgeting teen.

“Your idea to go looking for a drink? Or to sneak into a bar to do it?” Helmut asked, turning off the radio.

“Both.”

He still wasn’t meeting their eyes. Bob sighed through his nose.

“I don’t believe you.”

Razputin’s head finally snapped up to stare at him in shock for the fast call on his bluff. “I’m telling the truth!”

“I think you’re only telling part of it, kid.”

“No! I’m telling all of it.”

“Razpu-”

“Oh, come off it, Raz,” Lili snapped a little too loud, making the whole car jump. “Quit trying to take the fall for me. It was my idea to try the stupid fake ID thing, okay? Happy now?”

“Wh – uh, who said anything about being happy about it?” Helmut asked, legitimately confused.

“Look. Neither of us had anything to do tonight, and we were bored, so Raz suggested getting a drink somewhere, but Adam and Lizzie are out of town so we couldn’t ask them.” She crossed her arms and spoke without any inflection. “So, we went out but no one would let us do anything cause we’re minors. I thought that was stupid, because we’re agents same as any of you, so I came up with the sneaking-in part. We only got caught cause one of the bartenders recognized Raz from a show.”

There were a lot of loaded things to parse through from that explanation, but Bob’s mind stalled on one particular detail.

“Adam and Lizzie give you two alcohol?”

“Not…often,” Raz admitted. “Just once or twice, when we asked.”

“Do you mean like, a literal once or twice, or a…an estimated once or twice?”

“Did Dad put you up to this?” Lili shot back. “It was just a few times, like he said. What’s with the inquisition?”

“…Lili –”

 “Raz.”

“Okay!” Helmut proclaimed as he slapped his hand against the steering wheel in boisterous aggression. “Who wants some ice cream?”

Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Cause I’m really feeling some chocolate-vanilla swirl right now. Basic bitch style. Right? Who’s with me?”

Silence.

“Great! Look at that, open Dairy King right there, better take advantage of this opportunity before it slips through our fingers like the melting ice cream we’re all gonna have in about five minutes!”

The psi-king swung into the parking lot in a frenzy and herded the car crew inside before any of them could come out of their shock long enough to protest. It was only as Bob was staring up at fifteen flavors of oversaturated sugary goodness that he realized what had just happened.

He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief over his husband’s diversion. The tension that had been boiling over was cooled significantly by the sudden non-sequitur, and while the teens were rather half-hearted about picking out their sweet treats, there was no longer a risk of an explosion happening.

Metaphorically and literally.

Helmut caught his spouse’s eye with a meaningful look at Lili the moment all of them had their orders in hand, then slung his arm around Razputin’s shoulders and steered him away. “C’mon my lad! Nothing like the cool night air of three in the morning to keep your Hurricane ™ properly chilled!”

The poor boy had no choice but to let himself be pulled outside, leaving the two Zanottos standing awkwardly in the dingy restaurant. Bob gave a nervous scratch at his chin under his beard.

“How about we, uh, find a seat somewhere?”

Lili couldn’t fully cross her arms while holding ice cream, but she did a good job of making it work anyway. “Sure.”

They sat in a booth in the farthest corner from the front counter. Both great-niece and great-uncle stared at their respective sweet treats as if they could teleport them out of this situation. Bob glanced out the window and saw Helmut and Raz standing outside of the car. The former was on one knee with his hand on the teen’s shoulder, speaking earnestly but inaudibly, and the latter was scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the asphalt.

“Are you going to lecture me?” Lili finally cut through the silence.

Bob turned back to her. “No. Not really.”

“No?” She broke her gaze away from her ice cream just a little bit, eyeing him with surprise. “Then why did Helmut take Raz and leave us alone?”

She was so perceptive, so smart. And yet, still so young.

“Well, I… I still want to talk to you about what happened. I’m just not very, good, at this kind of thing.” He took his spoon and absentmindedly began drawing a flower in his soft-serve. “You already know what you did wasn’t a good idea, right? So I don’t think a lecture would help things any on that front.”

She didn’t respond. He continued.

“It’s less about the fake ID and more…the reasons you made the fake ID. Does that make sense?”

“I guess so, but I know what I’m doing, Uncle Bob. I’m not going to drink irresponsibly.”

The herbophanist shook his head. “But you’ll do irresponsible things to be able to drink in the first place.”

“That’s not –” Lili didn’t have a good rebuttal. She folded her arms and grumpily started eating her cherry chocolate delight. “Whatever. It’s two different things, anyway.”

Against his better judgement, Bob began picking at his own food as he thought about how best to bring the subject back up without making the teen defensive again. Spoons clicking against teeth was the only sound between them for a solid minute.

Finally, an epiphany.

“Did Truman ever…tell you anything, about your great-grandma?”

The girl paused with a bite halfway up to her mouth. She frowned, confused. “Grandma Tia? Not much. Just that she died when he was a baby.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she did.” He ran a tired hand over his face. The ache in his heart might have long-since healed into a scar, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when pressed. “She passed away when I was nineteen. The doctors told me it was liver failure.”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Lili’s mouth thinned and she put her spoon down, uncomfortable.

“When I…found out the reason behind her death, I was horrified by it. It didn’t make sense to me why she would willingly do something that hurt her so badly, especially when I was right there to love her and help her. It felt like a betrayal that she never got help or made herself stop. I was…disgusted by the mere thought of doing anything like that.”

Bob took a moment to breathe and wipe his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but better safe than sorry.

“It sounds pretty hypocritical when I say it now, doesn’t it?”

His great-niece only gave him a hesitant look.

“Anyway, uh, where was I…” He worried his lip. “Oh, right. I told myself that I’d never touch the stuff after that. I was angry at what she’d done, and I was determined not to have the same ‘weakness’, so to speak. As you know, it, uh, it didn’t last long. I was at a college party barely a year later when I was invited by some friends to drink with them. I didn’t make human friends very easily back then – actually, I still don’t – so I was a little desperate to keep them. It turned out to be pretty hard whiskey, so I got hammered.”

The man leaned back in his seat, staring at the patterns in the booth table.

“Back then, no one really knew how alcoholism could run in a family. Everyone thought it was a personal choice to keep drinking. It wasn’t even classified as an addiction yet. So I didn’t know how susceptible I was, or how careful I had to be. I’d spend months not having a single drink, thinking I was fine and could handle myself, and then I’d get plastered for a week at parties and bars and God knows what else, and it would take me even longer to get myself to stop again. It was like that even when I was with Ford and his gang. It wasn’t until I started dating Helmut that I started trying to change those habits. I’d never met anyone who loved me so unconditionally that I wanted to be a better person for them, until him. And it worked for a while.

“Well, barring our wedding, of course. I got shitfaced at the reception. It was embarrassing afterwards, but Helmut told me it made our cake-eating ceremony a hell of a great time.”

Lili snorted, and it was accompanied by a tiny upturn of her lips. Then it dropped as her expression became solemn. “And then…everything with Maligula happened, right?”

“Yeah. I think you know the rest of that story.”

“Uh-huh.”

Great-niece and great-uncle sat together for a while, just thinking about it all.

“I know I have to be more careful drinking than a lot of people, Uncle Bob,” Lili finally said at length. “My dad warned me about it when I was old enough to ask.”

“Truman is a good dad,” he murmured in response.

“The best dad.”

“Definitely the best dad.”

More silence.

“I didn’t mean to worry you and him,” she continued. “Or scare you. I know it was dumb to do what we did tonight.”

Bob looked at her, and she gave a conceding sigh.

“Okay, it was dumb to do a lot of what we’ve been doing with this stuff. That doesn’t mean I’m not being careful.”

“Kid, it’s not always just a matter of being careful. I thought I was being careful. I thought that for years and years, and when I finally realized I wasn’t, I convinced myself I could stop any time I wanted to, and kept up the same patterns anyway. That’s what I’m trying to get you to understand. I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. I’m just worried about you.”

Lili closed her eyes with a grimace. “I know. I’m sorry, Uncle Bob.”

“Hey, kiddo, look at me.” He waited until she did so. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not disappointed, either. That’s your dad’s job. I get it, is what I’m saying. It gives you a buzz, and it’s fun and exciting, and you just wanted to have a good time with your, uh…”

Bob leaned in a bit, and dropped his voice to a stage whisper.

“Is Raz still your boyfriend?”

“Wha –” her cheeks went red. “Yes, he is!”

“Alright, sorry, I’m just always out of the loop. No one ever tells me when these things change or not. Anyway,” he continued before she could get brighter than the cherries in her ice cream. “I’m just saying that you gotta be more than careful with this kind of thing. Everyone should be, really, but especially people like us. Plants aren’t the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family, unfortunately, so we just have to be aware of it and act accordingly.”

The teen turned this over in her mind. He could practically see the gears moving. When she looked at him again, it was with a slow, contemplative nod.

“No more late-night bar-hopping?” Her great-uncle asked.

“No more late-night bar-hopping.” She answered, sincere.

“Good.” He looked outside. Helmut and Raz were both lying on the front of the car, pointing out stars to each other. The sight made him smile. “Come on, we’ll work on that whole thing about Adam and Lizzie giving you alcohol another time, when it’s not three in the morning. For now, let’s rejoin our boys again and go get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.” Lili slid out of the booth and tentatively took her family member’s hand. His fingers squeezed hers in reassurance. “And...thanks, Uncle Bob.”

“Well, what can I say. Us weird Zanotto plant people hafta look out for each other, right?”

“Right.”

They walked out together, hand-in-hand.

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

A/N: I knew from promotional material that we'd be going into the mind of someone struggling with alcoholism, but Bob's Bottles punched me hard in the gut. It's probably my favorite mind in the game, both because it's visually gorgeous and because it hit a little close to home with some of the themes, like generational alcoholism and how the addiction can make someone a shell of themselves.

I wrote half of this three weeks ago and then found myself really struggling to finish it because it brought up a lot of old feelings I thought I'd sorted through a long time ago.

Psychonauts, man.

[padfootagain]

The Adviser

Hey! I'm writing this little fic for @musicallisto's event! I'm using her prompts 4 and 29 for Caspian :

4. “Can you stay with me?”

29.“Their hands on your skin…”

I'm also including a bit of the drunken confessions trope for this one!

I hope you all like it, tell me what you think about it, and thank you again Clara for hosting this event! This is just pure fluff, you know me, it's soft hours time!!!! We love cute clichés here!

Pairing : Caspian x reader

Word Count: 3597 (I've proofread but I've been writing for four hours and my brain is fried, I am so sorry if there are more mistakes than usual, forgiiiiiive meeeeee!!!)

You shouldn't have been drinking like this. Deep down, you knew it was a mistake. But what choice did you have? It was the only way to forget what this princess what doing at that moment.

Her hand was on Caspian's arm, and you didn't fail to notice the way her fingers slipped down the length of his velvet sleeve to brush against the skin of his wrist. You took another large gulp of liquor, but the image was already printed all over your eyelids when you closed your eyes and tried to blink the sight away.

It was more than you could stand. So much more than what you were humanly able to stomach. And the worst part of it all, really, was that none of this was Caspian's fault. He didn't even know about how you felt for him, so how could he have guessed that him letting her touch him like this, being so close to him, were hurting so.

But it did hurt. God, it hurt so bad.

The room was full of noises and conversations. You were celebrating the signing of a new commercial agreement between Narnia and their neighbours. It was exciting, and all the politicians that had been involved in the elaboration of the treaty and its negotiations were now enjoying a much-deserved celebration. The treaty had been signed earlier in the afternoon, and hopefully it was the first step towards a friendship between the two nations.

And you should have been celebrating as well, because after all, this treaty was your baby. You had written parts of it, you had worked for months to convince lords that this treaty was a good thing. You had worked and worked relentlessly for so long on this project. It was your baby, in a way.

When you had begun this adventure, you had envisioned yourself in the position you were finally in now. With a signed treaty resting on the king's desk in his study, and surrounded by lords, princesses and other important political figures, drinking wine and eating pastries and laughing as the future seemed a little brighter than it was before.

What you had never imagined though, was that during the months you had spent working closely with the King of Narnia, you would fall madly, desperately, hopelessly in love with him.

You wanted to slap some sense into your own head for falling for him the way you had, but it would be useless. There was nothing you could have done to avoid it. And every time you looked at him, you were reminded of this cruel truth. Nothing could have prevented you from falling in love with the king, not even yourself, not even him. Nothing, no one, could save you now.

Sometimes, it was driving you mad, really. The way he was so kind, and a little shy around you. You forgot that he was even a king, then. He had a way to make you feel safe by simply smiling at you. There was something in the way he walked, in the way he held himself, that would have betrayed his rank if he had tried to hide it. He was so… inspiring, in a way. More than that, he was magnetic. When he walked into a room, it was clear who he was. A mere glimpse at him, and even if one had no idea what the King of Narnia looked like, they would have recognized him. But then he would blush in the most precious way when complimented, bending his head as if to hide his reaction, and there was so much hesitation in his polite smiles, as if he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Maybe it was that contrast that had make your heart melt. The way he was the most charismatic man when you saw him, and the kindest when you talked to him.

Yes, yes, that was it. Or at least, part of it. Maybe it was the starting point of it all. Then, every single detail that made him unique had sealed the deal, and your heart was his, for good.

At the end of the day, though, no matter how much you loved him and how friendly and kind he was to you, he was still the King, and you were merely a representative. There was nothing special about your ancestry, even if your position now was quite high in the government. But you were one of the King's advisors, that was all, and every time you looked at one of these princesses throwing all their charms and manners at Caspian, you really couldn't hold it against him to fall for them and not you.

If he had known these inner thoughts of yours, he would have been adamant at contradicting you, at telling you that you were just as special as they were. But he was busy talking to one of them, and you were busy drinking. It ought to be the way things were meant to be, right?

After a couple more glasses of wine, your head was starting to spin and Caspian seemed to finally notice that something was off with you. He frowned hard as he saw you reaching for the nearest wall to keep your balance, while you lifted your glass to your lips again. You finished all the alcohol in one gulp. It wasn't like you though, to drink like this…

At first, he thought maybe you were simply letting loose more than usual in celebration for the treaty, but you didn't seem happy at all. On the contrary, your features were twisted in one of pain. Were you sick? A wave of fear rushed to his heart, crushing the little organ in his chest. He hurried to excuse himself and leave the princess he had been talking to. He was aware it was barely polite, but if you were unwell, he didn't exactly care about the etiquette. In fact, all his thoughts were set upon you and his worry now, he couldn't even realize what he was doing as he crossed the room in just a few long strides, ignoring people in the crowd trying to intercept him as he passed by.

You hadn't noticed him approaching, you had settled your attention on the marble ground, in an attempt to avoid seeing Caspian talk with the flirty princess that had been clinging to him for the past hour. Only when his brown boots appeared on the floor right before you did you notice his presence. You looked up in a jolt, your hair growing with fear and apprehension, while your quick movement made your head spin even more than before.

"Your Majesty," you mumbled, trying to stand a little straighter. "Can I… do anything for you?"

Your words were slurred, obvious sign of your intoxication. Caspian's frown only deepened.

"I was about to ask you the same question, you don't seem to be well," the king answered.

"I… I am perfectly fine," you lied.

"You seem to need a bit of fresh air," Caspian insisted. "Let me accompany you to the gardens."

You didn't have the strength to fight against him or argue in any way. Besides, Caspian was right, you did need a bit of fresh air to clear your mind. So you let him take your arm, assuring your balance, while he guided you outside.

The afternoon was slowly dying out into the early evening. The sun was still quite high in the summer sky, but the heat it released had diminished as the hours passed by. A salty breeze was blowing through the roses in full blossoms and the branches of the tall oaks that offered their shades to the visitors. It was quiet though, most of the inhabitants of the castle being either busy with their daily tasks, or at the reception. It was an easy task for Caspian to find a quiet spot for the two of you to walk by.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, noticing your steps were a little steadier, even if he still kept a careful hold on your arm, just in case.

"I did need a bit of air, indeed. Thank you. I feel better," you nodded.

You tried to give him a smile, but it was harder to hide your feelings when you were drunk. It seemed more like a wince, instead, and Caspian fully turned to you this time, stopping you in your tracks in the middle of the narrow path in between the bushes of roses. He remained silent for a while, the noises of the wind in branches and the bees buzzing in the flowers the only sounds you could hear. And in this quiet place, staring right into the king's dark eyes was even more hypnotizing than usual. You were suddenly very aware that the two of you were alone. And very aware that his hand still rested on your arm too…

"Are you sick? What is wrong?"

Under his insisting tone, you recognized worry. If Caspian had tried to hide it, he had failed miserably.

"I… am quite fine. I think I simply celebrated a little too much…"

"You seemed sad back there," the king shook his head, cutting you off because you could finish your lie. "You did not seem to be celebrating at all. Why? What happened?"

"Nothing. I guess… I must be very tired. The negotiations were difficult and…"

"Why are you lying to me?"

You merely stared at him, not knowing what to answer.

"I know you are lying. I know you. Why will you not tell me what is bothering you?"

"It… is nothing…"

"Is it why you drank too much?"

"I am not drunk…"

"Yes, you are. You can barely stand."

"I can," you replied, even if it wasn't true. You knew that if Caspian suddenly let go of you, you would probably fall down in the roses, and the thought of the many thorns cutting your skin wasn't particularly appealing to you.

Caspian's frown slowly disappeared though. From worry, his expression changed to one of sadness and hurt, but you didn't understand why.

"I am your friend, Y/N. Why will you not tell me? I could help…"

You let out a bitter laugh. The liquor was taking the better of your judgement, for you would have never answered him this way had you been sober.

"My friend? As if we were friends…"

Caspian stared at you with the most puzzled expression you had ever seen adorning his handsome features.

"What do you mean? Of course, we are friends."

"We are not friends. You are the king, and I am… a commoner working for you."

There was so much hurt passing through Caspian's eyes, but you didn't feel guilty. It was true, after all. And the sight of this woman with him… with her eyes all over him, and the way she leaned towards him…

It was more than you could take…

"I thought we were more than just that by now," Caspian answered in a low voice.

"How could we be?"

"Why did you drink so much tonight?"

"Because I cannot take it anymore… I… these feelings I just… I can't fight them…"

"Feelings? What…?"

But then it dawned on him, only, not completely.

Of course, a question of heart would explain your sadness and your drinking tonight, such behaviours that were so out of character for you. He wasn't particularly good at hiding the way his heart broke in his chest at the thought that you loved someone else, though. He had to be thankful for your inebriated state that made you fail to notice his reaction when it was written all over his features.

He opened his mouth to ask who this was about, but you spoke first. The wine was making your mind blurry, your thoughts turning into a whirlwind, bumping into each other and making your usual filters lift. In any other circumstances, you would have never said any of the words you were about to utter, but then, liquor and broken hearts make confessions tumble easily.

"I cannot do this anymore. I want to resign."

"Resign? What…?"

"I cannot handle it. Being around you all the time…" you went on, barely realizing Caspian was trying to speak. "And today seeing her… her hands on your skin and…"

Your voice broke, and you lost your balance for good. Caspian was still here though, and he managed to catch you in his arms right before you would fall to the dusty ground.

His brain was repeating again and again your words, trying to analyse their meanings…

Did it mean that… you… was it about him, then?

"I will take you to your room. You need to rest. Come on…"

With the gentlest gestures, he guided you back inside and to your room, crossing empty corridors and avoiding people as much as he could. No one else but him needed to see you like this.

He helped you settle in bed, and only then did he notice that you were crying.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled.

He brushed your tears away. He had never touched you this way before, and it made his heart pound in his chest like it had never before. He let his fingers linger a little longer on your cheek.

"You must rest. We will talk about this in the morning."

He gave you a warm smile before turning away, but you held him back, catching his wrist before he could walk too far away. He turned to you again with a puzzled look.

"Can you stay with me?"

Your voice was barely more than a whisper, uncertain and fragile. He was used to hearing it loud and confident while you discussed amongst politicians and advisers, it was such a drastic change, it scared him. It was evident you needed someone to take care of you at that moment, and Caspian wouldn't have let anyone else do it in his stead.

He should have gone back to the reception, but how could he leave your side now?

So, he dragged a chair next to your bed, and sat down, offering you a reassuring smile. He held your hand in his, giving it a soothing squeeze.

"As you wish. But you need to sleep now."

"Are you angry?"

"No, I am not. We will talk about it tomorrow. Now, you need to sleep. Close your eyes."

You did as ordered, and fell asleep as soon as your eyelids had fallen. The warmth of Caspian's hand on yours was the last thing you remembered before surrendering to slumber.

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

Your headache wasn't the worst thing that happened when you woke up. Nor was your nausea, or the disgusting taste that lingered on your tongue. No, the worst part of waking up was the note you found folded by the side of your bed.

Caspian would be waiting to see you in his office.

If parts of the previous day were a little blurry, you still remembered perfectly your conversations with the King.

He would ask you to resign. Or he might even fire you altogether. He could have asked you already for someone to pick up your things and carry them out of the castle… but then, Caspian was a kind man, and you weren't altogether surprised when you picked up an outfit to dress up and found all your belongings exactly where they belonged.

After your behaviour, there was no other alternative. You had been disrespectful, and you highly doubted that the king would appreciate working with someone who had romantic feelings for him.

But your pride made you decide that you would resign first. You would not let him throw you out of the castle. If you had to leave, which was painful enough already, never to see the man you loved again, then at the very least, you could be spared the humiliation of being pushed away. At least, you would be the one leaving.

You made your way to his office, at last. Taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. Your heart missing a beat when you heard Caspian's low voice answering on the other side. You walked in.

Caspian welcomed you with a smile, he was sitting at his desk, his back to the stained-glass windows that painted colours all across the room. The light coming from behind him made the image ethereal, a vision you could have summoned in one of your dreams…

"Good morning, Y/N. Please, take a sit," he invited you. "Are you feeling better?"

You struggled to swallow, cleared your voice. His voice made butterflies tickle your belly, but you ignored the feeling. You ignored how much you wanted to comply and approach him. This was not the time. Now was the time to be strong.

You remained at a safe distance from his desk, refusing to sit down.

"Your Majesty," you tried to keep your voice steady, but couldn't help the slight shake that accompanied your words. "I am well, thank you."

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you interrupted him, raising your hand to silence him.

"Please, your Majesty… let me speak."

He nodded, letting you continue. You took a deep breath, and finally gathered the strength you needed to speak again.

"I…My behaviour yesterday was… unforgiveable. And I am aware that I have crossed a line. What transpired last night is the proof that I can no longer work for you and serve Narnia at the best of my abilities as your adviser anymore. It is why I would like to resign. I would be very thankful if you would agree to allow me to stay in the castle for one last week, to allow me to look for a new home. My resignation will be effective immediately, and I can write it down, if you want me to."

Caspian remained silent for a moment, before slowly standing up, and walking towards you. His hands behind his back, he only stopped when he was but one step away from you. You stared at him, waiting for his reaction, completely motionless.

"I agree that… your confessions from last night make it impossible for us to continue like this. Things cannot remain the same now."

You fought with all your might to refrain your tears, that merely gather at the corner of your eyes, but didn't fall. You didn't flinch, nor did you back away though.

"I do think that you need to resign from your position in our government. I would not be… proper… to have my advisor be…"

"I will inform the rest of the staff immediately," you interrupted him. Which was incredibly rude, interrupting the king… but you couldn't take it. You couldn't stomach the pain that it would make you feel to hear him say the words he was about to utter.

It was enough that he didn't love you. You didn't need him to say it out loud.

You turned on your heels, but Caspian didn't let you step away. He caught your wrist before you could move away, and you turned back towards him, your eyes growing in surprise.

"I have not dismissed you, yet," he told you, quirking an eyebrow.

"I apologize, your Majesty."

Caspian gave you a smile. You wondered what was worth smiling for though.

"I thought we had agreed that there was no need to call me this way when we are alone."

"Things have changed."

"Not nearly enough, yet."

It was your time to frown.

"There is no need for you to move out of the Castle."

"But I…"

"Would you like to take a walk in the gardens with me this afternoon?"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, completely confused.

"I… don't understand…"

"Did you mean what you said? Yesterday? Or did I not understand you right? I thought you said you had feelings for me."

You nodded, unable to answer, fleeing Caspian's gaze.

"I did… but…"

"Well, I am asking you if you would like to take a walk with me this afternoon."

"But I… why?"

His smile grew fonder, and you noticed the way his fingertips were shaking when he reached to hold your other hand.

"I… was hoping you would… like to spend some time with me," Caspian added, hesitant this time, a little shy, pinker shades appearing to colour his cheeks. "Not as my advisor but… as… a friend…"

"A friend?" you repeated, stunned.

"Or well… maybe… maybe more than a friend."

"But I… I am…"

"I feel the same way."

He had said the last sentence as fast as he could, forcing the words out like he would have pulled an arrow out of a wound. In one, quick motion, before the strength and courage would fail him.

Your mouth fell open.

"You… you do?" you stuttered, out of breath for some reason. You only just then noticed that you seemed to have forgotten how to breathe altogether.

"I do. And well… I am afraid that you need to resign, for it would be impossible for me to court one of my advisors. But as you have done so, I thought… what about a walk?"

There were a thousand thoughts swarming in your head, and most of them were going against Caspian's idea. Most of them told you this was impossible.

But you chose to simply ignore all of them, and answer what your heart was desperately begging you to say instead.

"Yes. Yes, a walk would be lovely."

[jadelynlace]

Ink Drinker / Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader], Chapter 6

catch up here!

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.

pairing: Ivar x F!Reader

***content warning [PLEASE READ]: this chapter has the after effect of the trauma call, and too many emotions. surgical mentions and medical terminology are in this chapter as well. anything in italics indicates a flash back.

author’s note: I’m so sorry.

 ~

“Floki, why can I be left alone?” Ivar asked.

“Because the last time you were left alone you ended up with fifty thousand milligrams of pain killers in your stomach. Now, come here—do you know this?” Floki replied with his fingers taping the photo copied image.

“I drew that.” Ivar said back.

“Yes, you did. Where do you want it?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You hate your body so much why don’t you cover it in something you like?” 

*

It is sixteen hours that Ivar is in surgery. His world is dark, nothing but, with pierces of noises that he can recall. But trying to decipher them only makes the surroundings dull, caked in black and muffled with a buzz of an unruly bee hive. There are pokes of pain, he remembers the green light, and he remembers the pot hole he swerved to miss. He doesn’t remember how fast he was driving and the second he was over the yellow line made no difference for the sudden beast of a truck to find him. 

Everything below Ivar’s powdered knee caps are reattached. Grueling hours on the table while he’s sewed back together like a monster. Enough time for Hvitserk to get clothes, to get you clothes, to pack a bag for his brother per your request. Even in the presence of clean laundry you can’t take your blues off yet—they’re holding you proper because you just saw Ivar that morning. You two made love in the low morning light, filled with ecstasy, his seed and then he made you eggs with extra hot sauce and hugged you tightly you were sure you stopped breathing. He told you to be safe, baby, like he did at the dawn of each shift and that he would call you when his last appointment was finished, and on his way back from shopping for supplies for the parlor and that you two would make lunch plans. In his speed, his haste to make sure he didn’t miss you before the two tone song of death would sing in the radios, he instead, became the reason it did.  

Your chief shows up when you tell him the nature of the emergency. Pulling additional personnel on for overtime and they take the rig out of service and from your hands. Words don’t spare any differences and although he offers you a hug, when you take it he slips you a piece of paper. 

“Remember the job you’re doing. And the change you’re making.” He whispers in your ear and you look at the folded sheet. It’s a photocopy of a poorly drawn fire truck with an even worse sketched stick figure, and you had scribbled it when you were five. Back when you met chief for the first time because now you hold the same badge number your father once did. 

“If I give you your Dad’s old badge number, are you going to act like a jack ass like him?”

“I can’t make any promises chief.”

“I have a partner in mind for you, you’ll like him. He’s a good kid. A good medic.”

“This good kid got a name?”

“Yeah, Hvitserk. I’ll introduce the two of you.”

This is the call that shapes you as a medic, as a provider, and changes how you see things. This is the call that sends a new person out into the street, whether Ivar lives or not. This is the call that forever holds terror in your heart because he was laying in the back of your ambulance, and that was the one spot you never wanted him to occupy. 

Aslaug walks through the doors and she’s already two tissues deep into a soggy mess. Hugging Hvitserk and hugging you and you wish you were meeting this woman for the first time under any other circumstance. Floki thanks you and you don’t quite know why, even though the words fall heavily and un-calming, he still thanks you. And when the surgeon returns before the four of you, you’re the only one that doesn’t stand. But he calls your name because you know him, he was lab staff that tested you for your certifications and he told you that you’ll make a damn good medic one day. 

“Remember what I said on the day of your exam?” He asks and you nod, puzzled and impatient looks on the other faces. “You are a damn good medic—you both are.” He adds, eyes jumping from yours to your partners. “And it shows on this call, of all of them.” Hvitserk’s shoulder nudges you and you only nudge him back, perhaps little too hard in your delirious state. “Essentially what we did, was replant the lower portion of each leg. Now, given the extent of his injuries and how his body handles such, I don’t have a clear cut answer for you on his overall mobility. He may need to have screws implanted, he may need prosthetics. He’s going to be in the ICU for the next 48 hours for constant monitoring. We’ll have him sedated so his body can focus on what’s at stake. He’ll need physical therapy for a long time, and he’ll likely be disabled for the rest of his life, given again, how his body handles this. It’ll be a long road. But, like I said—you two are damn good medics and that is the one reason his legs were able to be saved. I will let you know when he’s moved to the ICU.”

You look back at your partner and his face is as blank as yours; influx of emotions just ready to dive from the void but your minds are still churning, still processing all of what boomed from the doctor’s mouth. Ivar’s chance at returning to a normal life was resting in your hands and you two gave the best damn efforts and they worked. The countless hours of dissection, wondering if you’re cut out for this career, these responsibilities, hours of trauma and blood and vomit all fizzle away because you now know that you are. And it just took Ivar to prove it.

When your eyes open again there’s a sharp pierce in your temple, scrunching eyes together and slowly moving, your head rises from Floki’s shoulder and the lights in the ICU have dimmed in the late hour. Impressions stood between his nostrils, falling like petals over his cheekbones, bleeding through split brows and pink flowers through the depths of his neck. His chest sinking and fainting with time, there was a moment of deafening silence when you are looking at his body; seemingly so small under the contraptions. The depths of earth, and the worst hell was seeing him lay on this cot. He’s only sedated now, even though Ivar looked of death, he was still alive under the harvest of wires. The words of how “we’re doing all that we can” do not bring any more comfort, they just take Ivar like a wave rapidly back out to sea. And now you understand how your patients, and their families feel when you speak the same phrases to them. The clinical assessments do not stop a rigorous schedule, motoring for the possible failure. The room is kept warm, and every so often when you will yourself to peek in, you can see the sheen of sweat that’s over Ivar’s forehead, dancing across his chest under the stickers, the monitors. The capillary refill on his toes show promise, and when the nurse says that to her doctor, you find yourself attempting the same motions on your thumb nail. Pressing the pink away and making room for the white, and then in a quick release, the pink swarms back. The ultra sound machines reminds you of the new equipment in your rig as it assess arterial blood flow every hour.

IV bags drip, slow and agonize and the change of wrappings, dressings and cleaning of both the limbs and Ivar himself collect. You spend hours watching the fluid levels sink, his eyes flutter, his fingers in his hand dance and you grow cold because you just want to hold him. To lock him in a steel tower and to constantly remind him how strong he is, because you know the longest road will not come from learning to walk. It will come from Ivar trying to find that he is worthy to live on.

Blackness had retired across your cheeks, wrapping a veil of makeup that melted into battle scars and you could not move if your body depended on it. Aslaug sits next to you; she takes her time wiping the makeup off from under your eyes, the soiled mascara and she’s humming to you. She had been telling you how when Ivar was young, she would sing to him and it would calm him down. How she sang to him in the hospital after he tried to overdose, tubes pumping his stomach as she blamed herself for such wrong doing. How Hvitserk blamed himself because he gave no one a warning cry. And how she’s singing to Ivar now, even though he can’t hear it, because it comforts the three of you as a whole. 

When your eyes follow the nurse into the room, you can hear her say something to Ivar and you watch his head turn in confusion. Grogginess and a fog on his brain as she talks to him like it’s a normal conversation; wishing him a good morning, how the weather looks promising for a beautiful day and you wish you had that level of bed side manner. You never get the promising parts of the journey; you get the patients that are coding and in a rush to the life saving team in the hospital. You love the ones who tell you their entire live’s story in the back of the rig on the way to the emergency room, sharing details and calming your mind with how simple, and yet how different every walk of life is. The nurse says something about you, about Hvitserk and Aslaug and Floki, out and waiting and ready to see him when he’s fit. You wave through the glass and there’s the tease of a smirk on Ivar’s face, even in his slightly sedated state. A dastardly, bastard smirk and his hand lifts off the bed slightly, wiggling his fingers back to you. The tears start up again, pounding a sledge hammer through your skull after all of the unruly pressure and messes of crying as your body tries to go numb.

“Where’s my mom?” You hear Ivar say in a voice that muted slightly as the nurse stands in the door way to exit. “Can I see my mom?” And the nurse nods. Aslaug stands and kisses your hair line as she walks into the vicinity, Ivar watching her and you need to back up, you need to walk away from the room, this hall way and this battle. A faint wheeze goes through your chest and Floki catches it first before Hvitserk has a chance to lift his head and open his eyes.

“Let’s walk, dear,” Floki says and his voice is not authoritative but it still demands you to comply as he loops an arm around your shoulder. “Walking can help to clear the mind.” It’s your first time outside in almost three days, and the sunlight burns you like you had been its victim on a sand covered shoreline for one too many hours. The hospital grounds are manicured, they’re neat and arranged with an abundance of flowers and colors in the open air but everything to you still feels so dull and lifeless, pointless and hopeless and walking only churns your thoughts to double, triple in size like a snow ball rolling down a hill. 

You’re finally allowed in to see Ivar and you approach slowly, like touching him will seer you suddenly, stain you with a unremovable pattern and you’ll forever be reminded. His blue eyes are dull and groggy when they open, the nasal cannula wrapping his face and your eyes dance over the scurf collecting on his jaw, and the faint bruising, cuts and scrapes on his skin.

“Hey baby,” His voice rasps and you kneel by the bed, tears already on their journeys to streak your tried skin and Ivar’s needle poked, IV covered arm comes to wipe what he can reach. “You were there, weren’t you?” And you can only nod, eyes still damp and you relish in the touch he gives you only if it’s for a second. “You saved my life, baby,” Ivar finally adds and that makes the whimper start again, the choke of a sob in your throat and he tries to quiet you, slithering a quick noise from his lips and you rest your head against the bed, his hand still on your hair. 

“I drove the ambulance over a hundred miles an hour,” You finally say and they’re the first words you can use to process the trauma you two had lived through together.

“That’s my girl,” Ivar smiles, speaking with a voice that sounds like sandpaper.

“I love you Ivar—no matter what happens, I love you so much,”

“I love you too, Y/N,” Ivar says and his voice is weaker now and he needs rest. “Kiss me before you go?” He says with eyes scanning your face, and you can’t deny that now. Pressing your lips softly against his, your hands cupping his cheek and you hope it’s not the last kiss you’ll ever get from him. “I’m not going anywhere, baby,” Ivar tells you. “I’m afraid. But I’m not going anywhere,” You nod as he speaks, a forehead against his for a second and his hand is still trying to reach on you where he can. This is the man that would pull the tubes and the wires from his chest if he could, if that would make him get closer to you. “You’re stuck with me,” And there’s a faint snicker after his words, weak and drowned out from the normal tone but you’ll take it after not hearing his voice for three days.

“I’m stuck with you,” You say back with a small smile. But it still doesn’t bring enough hope.

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