#the dove is alive but sometimes he gets a little hurt

[cranberrytaboo]

4, 8, 12, 15, 17, 21, 24, 33, 25 for whatever ships come to mind for each!

Katya voice: THAT WAS A LONG ONE

all under the cut!

4 - Where it hurts WangXian "Wei Ying... Why did you let yourself be branded?" If Lan Wangji had expected Wei Wuxian to take his question seriously, he would be seriously disappointed. Wei Wuxian smiled, still dazed and drunk from the agony of his burning flesh. "And let poor MianMian be marked forever? Such pretty skin as hers should always be protected. It was not such a great sacrifice in the defense of true beauty."

But the only true beauty here is you, Lan Zhan wanted to say. He forced his tongue into stillness, so as not to let the errant thought run out of his mouth. Instead, he continued his ministrations, tending to the angry raw skin on Wei Wuxian's chest, letting his eyes sharpen with hate as he beheld the Wen crest tainting his Wei Ying's perfect body. As Wei Wuxian drifted in and out of consciousness, Lan Wangji bowed his head, pressing his lips tenderly to the wound.

The smell of burning flesh branded itself likewise into his mind.

8 - In secrecy HarryKim

Kim rested his elbows against the balcony at the Whirling-in-Rags and looked out towards the bay. There, the sun was slowly climbing down from the sky, painting the ice and snow soft pinks and creamy oranges. He lifted one hand to rub the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"It is... difficult, to try and balance your love life with secrecy. I'm sure you remember just how *avoidant* your friend, the Smoker, was, even in his own apartment. It's called the Homo-sexual Underground for a reason. You have to keep it quiet, you can't *show* it. I don't know... Do you think you're ready for a life like that?" He finally turned to face Harry fully.

Harry, who had only just recently remembered what homo-sexuality *was*, stood looking nonplussed. "So, if I wanted to hold you, or kiss you, I couldn't do it in front of everyone?"

"That's what I'm saying, Harry. In public, you have to act as if nothing at all is going on. There are *tells*, yes, signals, but it all has to be discreet." Kim wondered briefly if Harry was even capable of discretion.

"That seems like an awfully painful way to live."

"It is." Kim turned his head away again, not wanting to show his partner that much vulnerability. Thus, he was surprised when Harry approached, guiding his chin with one hand to press a kiss to his mouth. The sun itself slipped beneath the horizon at that moment, as if to give them privacy.

"But painful sounds worth it, if it's you."

12 - In grief ChengXian

The reeds in all directions whispered in the wind and crackled under the weight of Jiang Cheng's body, rustling as his shoulders racked with great, heavy sobs. As quietly as he could muster, so as not to disturb the tension, Wei Wuxian knelt beside his sworn brother, eyes reddening.

"Mother...! Father!" Jiang Cheng's teeth gnashed bitterly, lips pulled into a wrathful snarl for a brief moment before he continued to wail, unable to even hold on to anger in his grief.

Wei Wuxian lowered beside Jiang Cheng and turned to face him, hands gripping at the arm nearest him as tears finally spilled past his lashes. Everyone in Yunmeng Jiang is gone. You, and Yanli, and Jiang Cheng, are all that is left. It was not a vacuousness that Wei Wuxian was unfamiliar with, but one he had prayed night after night that he would never feel again. And now, Jiang Cheng was feeling it too.

He leaned on his elbows to lift up his own weight, drawing close to Jiang Cheng and kissing away the tears, not caring when the other flinched.

Jiang Cheng seemed at a loss for a moment before gripping at Wei Wuxian's back and pulling him close, desperately, like Wei Wuxian would turn into smoke and dissipate if he didn't.

15 - Passionately JohnnyV

Before V met Johnny, he didn't think such an intense form of self-love was possible. But now, with an entirely separate psyche hanging out in his head, V was finding creative ways to show Johnny just how much he meant to him, even as they cohabited his body.

He knew Johnny could interact with him physically, at least in theory- the punch Johnny had thrown when they first spoke had sent him flying- but it was awkward to try and show affection to someone who nobody else could see.

Thus, he asked Johnny to work with him, to try new things. Johnny could take over control of V's body- so surely, he could take control of just a part of it, right? His legs, or a hand, for example. They tested this theory-- then tested it again, and again, with satisfying results each time.

And every time, V would lean in to feverishly kiss the palm of his own hand, showing appreciation for the specter that lingered with him.

17 - To distract MariAli

"I know what you're here for, and the answer is no." Alice folded her arms and frowned, her foot tapping impatiently.

Marisa flashed her a winning smile. "What do you mean? How could you possibly know why I'm here, when I haven't said anything?"

"You don't have to say anything. Every year, I make plum wine when the season turns, and every year, you and Reimu come and steal it to drink back at the Hakurei Shrine." Alice's Shanghai and Hourai dolls stood before the jars of honey-colored liqueur, guarding them with their tiny lances.

Marisa folded her arms and grumbled, making a show of frustration while cutting her eyes to Reimu, her partner in crime. The witch's eyes sparkled with an idea, and Reimu slowly nodded her head in recognition.

Recklessly, Marisa swept Alice into her arms, dipping the magician low to the ground. "Now!" She crowed, before pulling Alice into a deep kiss. Alice's limbs tensed, then slacked, her head spinning.

Flustered and high on a giddy sort of energy, Alice's mind muddled until she was finally released. As she collected herself, she looked to the window, where Marisa and Reimu were beating a hasty escape, arms laden with jars of plum wine. The Shanghai doll moved to give chase, but Alice simply lifted a hand.

"Ugh... Let them go, this time. If Marisa is willing to go that far, she must really need it." Alice couldn't help but entertain the idea of making more plum wine, this time to be traded instead.

21 - On a place of insecurity CyGate

Cyclonus had noticed, in even the short time he had known Tailgate, that he had a great number of insecurities. Surely, Cyclonus thought, anyone would recognize this in him, but he seemed to be the only one who really paid attention to how Tailgate clung so desperately to any sort of validation, any sense of belonging or being a part of something greater.

And one of the places where Tailgate's insecurity most manifested was in his Function. On his forearm were carved carefully the words "Waste Disposal," and it apparently caused Tailgate no end of resentment. On a quiet night, Cyclonus resolved to confront the little bot about it.

"It's so degrading," Tailgate finally admitted, his optics gleaming as he averted his gaze. "Everyone else has such grand purposes, but me? I'm just a janitor!" He held his head in his hands. "Every time I look at my arm, I feel so humiliated that I just wanna tear it off." He sniffed. "I would, if I weren't such a coward."

"Wait, listen to reason." Cyclonus tried to force himself to speak gently, knowing just how jarring his voice could be. "First of all, there's nothing wrong with cleaning waste. It is a necessary task like any other, and we wouldn't be able to live in a place full of garbage." He paused, realizing that might not have been what Tailgate wanted to hear, even if he needed it. "And two, your Function is not indicative of your worth. I have seen you, Tailgate, and your intense spirit, and you are worth far more than most any bot on this ship."

"You really think so?" Tailgate finally looked back up at Cyclonus.

"I know it." Cyclonus carefully took Tailgate's hand, lifting his arm and brushing his mouth across the lettering. "And I will keep telling you so until you believe it."

24 - In danger Sufferer/Disciple

Each day in hiding, the Sufferer grew more distraught. Even as many times as they relocated, however many of their pursuers they killed and however often they covered their tracks, he knew it was only a matter of time before they were caught. He watched as his beloved mother, the Dolarosa, retreated to a place of solitude in the cavern they inhabited, lifting her hands and praying under her breath. To his side, the Disciple sharpened her claws, dragging them against the rocky floor and watching them file down to shape with marked intensity.

"Why is it that you continue to follow me?" He looked to the Disciple with a mix of sorrow and resignation. "If I asked you to run, to let them hunt me while you escaped to live your life safely, would you?"

"Never." She replied plainly. "I have chosen this path, knowing it would be hard, because of my endless devotion to you. Why do you think I would flee now, just because we're nearing the end?"

The Sufferer lowered his head, teeth grit. So, she was aware, just as he was, that they did not have long. "I only wish that... that my actions here had caused any change."

"They did." The Disciple moved close to his side, nuzzling her cheek against his. "You may not have changed the highblood's minds, but you have moved the hearts of those who struggle like us. It won't be immediate, but you have invited a wave of change."

"I would have liked to be around to see it." The Sufferer laughed, bitterly, before pressing a kiss to the Disciple's cheek. "Thank you. I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me one day for bringing you into this."

"I already have." And yet, she could not help but wish that they could remain curled together in the vague warmth of that cavern until the end of days.

25 - As a Yes HecaJun

Junko couldn't remember half of the catalysts of her pure rage. She couldn't remember the faces of her husband and son, nor the face of Chang'e, who took them from her. She couldn't even remember her name from before she became a vengeful spirit. All she could remember was the concentrated rage that boiled in her throat.

But she was slowly making new memories, and most of them were of Hecatia. Hecatia, smiling and agreeing to fight at her side. Hecatia, laughing and playing with Clownpiece, dancing across the crater of a dried-up lunar lake. Hecatia, pushing back a lock of Junko's hair and asking her if she would be interested in trying to love again.

Junko didn't quite know how to answer. She wanted to say yes. Desperately. But her lips threatened to betray her, as they quivered behind years of near-forgotten heartbreak. So instead, she closed the distance between Hecatia's mouth and her own, agreeing in a silent sort of way.

33 - Forcefully HarryJean

"Jean, please look at me."

Rather than give in, Jean continued to stare daggers at the floor in front of him. It was all he could do to keep his attention focused on that one spot, eyes burning as another wave of despair welled in his chest and threatened to crush his lungs.

"Listen! I want to apologize, but I need you to stop acting like I'm not *here*, can't you even pretend to hear me?" Harry pushed a hand through his own hair, his initial repentance giving way to frustration he knew he didn't have the right to feel.

Jean's fists gripped at his knees where he sat, teeth digging into the inside of his lip until he could taste blood. "I get you feel like shit. I can sympathize. But that doesn't mean you get to treat the rest of us like shit till you feel better..!"

"This isn't about the others. I'll talk to them later, but right now, this is about me and you." Harry's fingers twitched. "You knew what you were getting into when you started getting closer to me, I warned you about the kind of man I was becoming."

"Is that supposed to be an apology?!" Jean's eyes snapped upward to stare at Harry hard. "Because that sounds like excuses."

"I'm *getting* to it!" Harry exhaled, too harshly, trying to force out the anger in his stomach. "I *am* sorry! I hate hurting you!"

Jean's eyes narrowed, and he looked back down at the floor. "Then stop hurting me."

The same frustration that Harry tried so hard to repress flared back up. If only it were so *easy.* Why was Jean convinced that he could just change in a day? And why was Jean not looking at him? The aloofness made him *sick*.

It was so easy to stride across the floor, to grab Jean by the jaw and to turn his head upward, to lock their lips.

He wasn't sure what he expected in return, but it wasn't a hand tangled into his hair, keeping him close, as Jean's mouth worked against his own. He could faintly taste blood on Jean's tongue. When he pulled his head back, Jean chased him, briefly, before leaning back again.

Harry let out a ragged breath. "Let me start from the top."

There was a moment's silence before Jean nodded. "Yeah. Please do."

[orenjikaraka]

Only red…

Miguel fanfiction / solo fic

Summary: Miguel and Peter both went on a solo mission, this mission had a vicious carnage they had to stop, Peter thought it would be a “Grand” idea to show Mayday’s her very first carnage, it goes terribly wrong, Miguel mostly took most of the hits, because his yelling and yapping about Mayday’s safety, cause the carnage to go towards Miguel, the carnage gave a bite on his left arm, more importantly his wrist where is gizmo was located, the bite caused a portal behind Miguel, then with a hellish grin it made, it opened its jaw and push Miguel in it; Miguel was to debilitated to acknowledge anything. Little Mayday was only worried about Miguel so she followed. Leaving Peter alone on the Carnage mission.

Or: Miguel was sent to a Universe where there is no Spider-Man / woman, Only Alchemax existed, but this Alchermax is far worse then Miles’s, or even Miguel’s (lore wise: Miguel has been experimented from his Alchemax.) So Miguel had to put an end of this universe. He did, but Miguel is trapped in a room with bullet prove glass window on the very top ceiling, the ocean water on the other side, and same goes for the water slowly filling the room. He has to get back to HQ, for Mayday’s safety.

Alchemax: this Alchemax experiment the people that live in that universe, alive or dead, it doesn’t matter, they found a way to kill there spider person, when I mean everyone I mean also children too, like for example while some of them are alive, they cut the skin on adults and children to check there nerves better and there reflexes, see how would they react, this Alchemax is very fucked up, so fucked up they even rape there victims to see how they would react. It’s all in science in their eyes. Also there base is almost deep sea level but not all the way.

Warnings: Drowning (almost), paranoia for a child, gore, gruesome torture, and swearing.

There is no s/o. Only a character study for Miguel O’Hara. Dead dove 🕊️: don’t eat…

Word count: 5369

Peeps tags: @axerrri

Mayday, oh… Mayday…

The little baby was crawling on the ceiling, thinking it’s a new playground to explore, her giggles and laughter is the only clear thing from keeping Miguel not to lose it because they were both trapped in a room; where the ocean water slowly rising up as they speak, the cold cooling water was making Miguel float slightly, he couldn’t touch the ground but he can clearly see it, if he looked downward. But he then heard the cute laughter above him again.

He looked upward, where mayday was babbling and bringing her little chubby arms upward motion that she wanted him to catch her, then Miguel brought his hands out of the water and mayday fell from the ceiling, he caught her, and her little giggles was the only joy in this universe that existed, she wanted to do it again, but Miguel’s sigh, it made her look at Miguel with her big cute eyes.

“Chica. No more ok… I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

Mayday looked at with an understanding look, and started to suck her thumb, how can you just not protect this little cute muffin. Miguel gave a soft smile, if anyone saw thee Miguel O’Hara, smiling and softly laughing, it would maybe be the death of him, Jess would tease him, Peter B. would take millions by millions of photos of him and mayday; with a soft chuckle from Miguel how can he not hate the spider society, he never shows these sides of him, he always secretly hiding his gentle demeanor, or showing that he actually care about every spider around him, but… mayday always saw past him, even when there’s meetings or small annoying hangouts with his “friends” if you could say, she always finds a way to annoy - no, to company him, the spiders knew when the time when Mayday smiles, hugs, or crawl all around his office, they do see Miguel glances at the small baby, but when it just Peter B. And him, Peter can sense the differences when he just alone with Mayday, the long gentle stares, the sight of Miguel stiffening up sometimes when Mayday snuggles up against his chest. Even when Mayday babbling, Peter can always sense that he has a longing for his daughter, Gabriella.

Miguel knew this…

And it haunts the hell out of him…

He misses his Gabi, the sweet little girl, that always win every goal and yell, “I did it, dad! I did it!” The little girl that ran through the house thinking she can be number one in the soccer team even though she got every gold trophy, the girl that would always have little light bruises on her knees, because she would rough house with the neighborhood boys and the kids at school, the girl…

“Maldita sea, Miguel…”

He shook his head, trying to get his thoughts out of head and try to focus on the one person, that was as most important at the moment. He looked at Mayday and she babbles again but it was low and gentle, and her face had a small worried look on it.

“Chica, I’m ok… sorry for being silent for-“

It was sudden and quick but; Mayday glitched, when it stopped, she started to cry, her little hands cling to Miguel’s chest, Miguel saw the discomfort in her face, but then saw her one day bracelet was up its 24 hours, he took his watch off and placed it around her arm, he made it a little tighter so it won’t fall off, he soothe her with gentle kisses on her forehead and rubbed her back gently.

Through the comfort with Mayday was quick to be her little happy self again, how does she get so happy instantly, it can make any little kids jealous, because this little gal is just the source of happiness.

“You ok little may?”

Mayday just squeal with laughter and excitement.

Well at least she’s fine…

Miguel looked up the ceiling and saw a window, he saw fish swimming across from it, each 2 seconds, then his eyes saw the walls, he can’t climb up, it’s not because he doesn’t have sticky fingers and he only has claws, he just can’t, the walls were too thick, last time he did it, he felt the pressure of his claws touching his bones, they might snap if he does it again, then he looked at the door below him, it locked shut but he couldn’t opened it anyway because the flowing water broke the electronics on it.

They were stuck. Well if the water would flow faster, he might break that ceiling window, but…

Mayday…

He looked back at Mayday, she was messing with the water, god… she shouldn’t be here, damn it Peter, if you didn’t bring your child in that dangerous carnage fight, she wouldn’t even be here in this fucked up universe. This universe had no Spiderman or Spiderwoman, it was hard to understand because it showed on his watch that this universe had a spider, but now they’re gone, it said they’re died in the records, but this universe didn’t collapsed, then why the hell, does his watch said it collapsed…

It doesn’t make sense…

Well maybe it might make some sense, this facility is Alchemax, and it’s terrifying; when they both got here the first time, he fell with a thud, then Mayday fell right afterwards, but Miguel caught her, but he covered her face in his chest, Little May didn’t understand why he was blocking her eye of sight, but Miguel was panicking, the room was white, it was like a white void, but this void had another color in the room…

Red.

There was children corpses laying at the end of the room, the exit door was there too, it looked like the children were trying to escape, or crying and screaming, for help because they mouths were agape. The corpses had their skin peeled, you can see there bones and they’re decaying flesh, there hands were bones and had no flesh, but he saw scratches and scrapes on their fingertips…

The blood was like a jar of red paint splattered all over the place, it wasn’t art, it was carnage, Miguel felt like gagging, his body shook because of the poor children that died here.

Why hasn’t anyone come and save them, why is their flesh decaying, it’s like some fuck up science project about corpses decaying, why-

Then a child has screamed on the other side of door, large footsteps on the other side too.

The child sounds like a little girl, she was screaming for her mother, yelling for forgiveness to let her go and see her mother.

Miguel was almost hyperventilating, but he moved on instinct, he used his red webbing to block Mayday’s eye sight, then Mayday made some confused mumbling.

“Chica, let’s- let’s play hide and seek.” Miguel whispered

Then mayday had glee in her squeal, but then Miguel shushed her lightly, “May May, in this hide and seek, you have to be silent, and no peaking, ok!” Miguel whispered yelled.

Then Mayday nodded with a smile, Miguel swears how the Shock is she so smart. He then webbed her left ear, “I’m going to cover your ears, It would be cheating, chica.” Then mayday smiled in a understanding, then he covered the other ear with a web, he hopes she doesn’t hear what’s going to happen, he then placed her on one of the corners of the room.

The door snapped open and Miguel’s masked eyes narrowed and turned around. A six foot tall Alchemax soldier opened the door, they tugging on this small helpless little girl’s scalp, the little girl had soft brown skin and she had long dark brown hair, once again like the rest of the children in here, her hands were bones, no skin, just her muscle and veins he saw, with a bit of bone showing.

The soldier saw Miguel. Then the soldier’s hand that was locked in the girl’s scalp tightened, without hesitating Miguel shot two webs, one sticked to the wall behind the soldier and the other went around their head and stuck there. Miguel tangled his webs together and with one sweep.

Snap

The solder fell limped, the little girl froze for a bit and saw Miguel. She climbed over the corpses and ran to him. Miguel slightly squatted down and moved his arms up a little in a hugging matter..

“Bring me, to my— my mother!”

“Mija, I- I got you…” Miguel’s voice was shaky, but he was trying to act strong on what just happened and what’s around him.

But…

There was…

A beeping noise.

The little girl had a beeping collar around her neck, it got louder and more rapid with every step she took and got closer to Miguel.

Then it clicked on him.

“Wait! Stay!!”

The little girl didn’t listen and right when she was 5 inches from him, the collar slivered the little girl’s head off…

Her body fell. It was silent in the room, and Miguel’s eyes were shaking just as much of his fear, then Mayday mumbled, he looked back, remembering where he was and remembering mayday was still here, she still had her little web blindfolds and the webs on ears, luckily she can’t see or hear what happened, because Peter would probably kill him, if he knew his daughter was hurt, traumatized, or even killed…

“Dios mio-“, god he couldn’t think straight, he picked up mayday, undo the webbing, made sure her face was in his chest, so she wouldn’t see anything, and ran out of room, everywhere he saw white walls, white windows, nothing with color, but when he did saw color it was red, each room he passed, it was torment. Adults screaming, children crying, and when some of people that saw him, they yelled for help…

But, he couldn’t…

Dios, it itch his skin, that he couldn’t do anything; what do you think was in people’s eyes, seeing a man with a blue Spiderman suit with red highlights, they see a savior, they thought, they be free from this hellish agony….

But how the disappointment and despair stares, when he ran through the hallway after hallway, trying to find a way to fix his gizmo…

Little mayday didn’t understand why she heard Miguel’s heart beat in a high friction speed then any normal heart beat that came off him, when he usually hold her, it’s a calm slow beat. But now it was thundering, like when it rains in a stormy night.

Mayday finally look up at, he had his mask on, but his red highlights, where his eyes would be, were not serious, nor not a glare, it had a fear, or a sadness but shaking here and there, to show its fear. She reached for his face, trying to comfort him with her little chubby arms, but it was hard because the flow of running and movement from Miguel, was making it difficult. She mumbled lightly, trying to get his attention.

Miguel finally stopped running around and he was face with a big white door, but Mayday’s mumbling, made him looked at her, his masked glitched away, and his face showed, “chica. I need you to-“

Mayday just babbled with annoyance because she was trying to comfort him, Miguel finally understood what she was doing, so he smiled widely, with a gleeful expression, “chica, I’m ok, don’t worry about me..”

She’s so little and doesn’t understand when someone faking a smile, she just smile, because she clearly see Miguel happy now… Miguel sighed with relief, “ok, may may, I need you hide you face again can you do that for me.”

She clapped and nodded and hide her little face in his chest again, the little gesture, made him chuckle a little and he step forward to the door and it opened, his smile falters, when he smelled blood in the air. He looked up and the room was covered with all kinds of people.

Adults

Kids

Even infants

Dead

His body started to shake once more, his heart started to race again, a tremendous amount, one of his hand gripped mayday’s head to his chest, so she wouldn’t see. His gripped started to shake lightly, which confused mayday again. She didn’t understand why was he shaking, but Miguel was having a panic attack, seeing so many people dying in one setting, remembering how Gabriella’s universe has shattered, glitch through the fragmentum, he wanted to look away and start running to at least fix his gizmo and get the hell out of this hell, but…

There was someone deep in the bodies, with brown hair, tied up in a ponytail, brown skin that was like his, eyes dead like a fish rotting but the color of them were a light brown…

It was a little girl.

His little girl…

“Gabriella—“ it was barely a whisper. He trembled, “his” little girl was sleeping right on top of children corpses, with lifeless eyes, If you saw closely there was dried up tears on her oh sweet delicate eyes…

She has been killed recently, those tears wouldn’t be freshly dried on her delicate cheeks…

He failed once again… he should be used to these failures, but how can he; he fucked up, a Miguel’s universe; he fucked up, the spider society for his own selfish wrongs, how can he be so stupid for he, who cheated on Xina…

He didn’t even notice the tears flowing off his cheeks, how his lips quivered, how he took a couple steps forward, because his instincts telling him to help “his” baby, “Gabri- Gabriella—“

“Mig.” Mayday’s little voice was the sound that knocked him out of this overwhelming trance, Miguel look down at Mayday, he so surprised that she just looked at him the whole time and didn’t even turn around of the horrors behind her…

May was only worried about someone she knows, that her father knows, someone that only looks at her, with all his heart, because she’s knows Miguel can look scary, serious, or terrifying at times, but he’s just a grumpy softly that just seeking comfort in his own way.

Mayday babble’s afterwards, trying to reach once more, how is she so smart at this age. Then Miguel lifted her up a little and gave her soft kisses on her forehead and hair…

“Estoy bien, lo juro, perdón por mostrar mis lágrimas, chica—“

Little Mayday just gently closed her eyes and hugged his neck. Miguel lean his head lightly on top of her head, mayday opened her eyes slowly and saw person with a gun behind Miguel, she was frightened and she screamed, Miguel got startled, and turned around.

The guard on the other hand was just as frightened as Mayday, Miguel showed his fangs, how his muscles tense and his veins showed in a feral state, Miguel’s eyes pierced red. A scarlet red. Not inviting whatsoever.

They choose the right choice, and ran off, even when everything was going mad or chaotic, and despair whenever he run to fix his watch.

He would always protect the little one in his arms, even when she says her first word…

Wait, Que-

“Chica did ya say, Mig?!”

———

After running and finding the very room that they were from the very start, Miguel told mayday, he’ll be back, and he promised. Then locked the door and kinda fixed his gizmo, his gizmo can set portal back, but at a certain time, typically a pacific hour. And couldn’t be in water, it would fuck up the portal and they most likely be stuck between multiple portals around them both, hey. It’s not his fault that his gizmo was broken, “Tonto, carnage..”, he thought.

He then flooded the base, it was easy, the base was underwater, but he did had that doubt again, what about the other people here, the citizens, they all suffering, but he couldn’t, he clenched hands in frustration, he knew he couldn’t save them, his talons made his hands bleed, with anger and anguish, he slashed all the controls and it started to flood tremendously.

And that’s how he got suck in that very room with Mayday. The water was closer to the ceiling a bit, but not so much for him to touch. Miguel sighed.

“Mig, Mig.”

Miguel looked down at Mayday, her little smile, giving all his worries away. But they were close to the ceiling, he gave a gentle rub on her cheek, “chica, I-“ then he looked up at the window again, the ocean, the fish, some air bubbles can be seen floating sometimes, it was so gazing to look at, but it just gave Miguel the chills, does Mayday even know how to hold her breath.

He look at her with worry.

“May, do you know how to hold your breath?”

The little baby looked at him confused, her small head tilt, it shouldn’t have horrified him but it terrified him. He tried to keep calm, he breathed out slowly…

Ok… Mayday…

Miguel breathes in, each breath he took, his chest vibrated, trembling, like he was gonna fuck up all those years ago…

“Mayday, look at me.” He didn’t want to sound desperate but the water is sure as hell not make Peter B. In a good fucking mood, and he can’t afford anymore scars on his tarred heart.

Mayday babbles, then had a mumbled mig at the end, which made his fingers lightly danced on her back and left shoulder, they trembled lightly, screaming for him to do anything.

“Ok- Chica, I need to you to copy me, can ya do that.”

She tilted her head, confused, and that haunts him.

He then breathed in.

Why am I shaking

Then hold his breathed, in mayday eyes, she thought he was mimicking a pufferfish, so she giggled lightly..

“No- miha- i need you to understand.”

Now he felt his voice trembling, each word felt like he was drowning. Drowning? They about to drown in a sec if she doesn’t understand-

“Mmm—“

He looked at mayday, he noticed his hands had a firm grip on her waist.

You’re hurting her.

Then his grip loosens and shook, tremble, shake, quiver- GOD- why is this happening..

“May… please.. under- understand. Look at me chica and understand…”

His vocals was trembling, May noticed and frowned because she can see how his face frowned, how the tip of his fingers curled lightly, shook lightly with every fiber telling, yelling, screaming, with every itch.

He was was terrified.

When he was demonstrating again and again, each second, each minute, each fucking millisecond, it felt like a timeline just erupt in his trembling fingers. He was losing it, was he losing it, was…

Then mayday babbles, it sounded concern,

“Lo siento, chica.”

Miguel breathed out slowly, calming the nerves, the trembling, horrendous shakes… so…

He demonstrated again.

Mayday actually was staring at him and tried to understand, after 20 minutes, May looked up the ceiling and saw how close they were getting, she looked at Miguel and saw the top of his head was inches from the window, Miguel saw her getting distracted and he started to shake lightly. Which made May look at Miguel.

She made a little frowned; he was panicking again. She saw how he looked downwards, how he cursed in Spanish under his breath, then looked up, with shaky breath, and whisper more stress that was coming from his pores… he slowly closed his eyes and clenched them tightly..

“Estoy aterrorizado, soy un fracaso, soy—“

Mayday watch with sadness, she mumbles slightly be she never saw Miguel cry before, how the tears roll down his cheeks, how his voice trembles and shakes, he breathes in suddenly and hit the back of his head behind the wall behind him.

“Estúpido.”

“Estúpido.”

“Estúpido—“

“Mig.”

Miguel looks at Mayday, her little voice always calms the longing stress in his system. Miguel moved her lightly towards him with one arm and the other, wiping the tears with his wrist.

“I’m sorry— May— I’m sorry, that I’m not the best person to make you understand to hold you breath chica. I’m sorry— that I would always be a failure—“

Then May did a loud eep, which made Miguel stopped talking and actually made him look at her, she looked frustrated, this made him realize that, she was trying to make him understand, that what all he said isn’t true.

He wiped the tears away and breathed out, the water rises slightly, and now his head was touching the ceiling, he looked back at mayday, then the window above, he looked behind him and there was a small gap, that May can sit and breathe just a bit longer then him. He place her there.

“Stay. And don’t touch the pipes ok.”

She babbles in confusion, but nodded slowly.

He move his hand to the window, they’re were in a tight space, well… for Miguel. Getting all those muscles makes it hard to move around. He placed his hand on the window and pushed upward; it didn’t budge, which made Miguel a little frantic, so he pushed, and nothing happened. The water was to his neck.

“Chica. Don’t panic ok.”

May nodded and frowned.

So…

Miguel put more effort in his muscles. He clenched his right hand into the metal on his right, and started to punch the window with his left. Each punch felt like he’s was about to lose it, because the water was rising slowly, he punched and punched… each fiber, each second of thoughts yelling and screaming, to save one single little girl, he can’t fail again, not again, not like all those years ago, punching, punching, bleeding, his knuckles burns; the blood slides from his knuckles and stains the water.

May babbles in sadness once more.

Then Miguel hold his breath, his punches were harder, aggressive, terrifying, each punch sounded like metal hitting glass, Miguel was losing some oxygen, small bubbles slowly floating through his brown locks to May, then there was a pause. Miguel tried to move his head up for oxygen, but there was just…

Water, the ocean’s water.

So

He brought his bruised hand back, punched all of his might, it cracked. It finally shocking cracked, so he grabbed May quickly and swinged again with his bruised hand, and it breaks. He then toss May through it first, then he squeezes out after.

He adjusted his eyes more and looked around the watery void around him, but it only lasted two seconds, because who can he forget that was most important.

Mayday.

He used his web, across the deep ocean water, to another wall; that was another base that connected to the other one, they’re originally were. He tugged and swam to May. To a sealed door, he forced the door open, it was on locked down, so it made his claws bleed. He opened it and went in and forced it closed afterwards. He looked down and saw mayday unconscious.

“May?!”

He lightly shook her, but he got no response.

Why must i always fall. Why must it always comes despair from what holds in my hands, why—

“May—?!”

The trembling in his finger tips reappeared, his body shakes like a scared child, seeking for only the dark to be safe from what dangers outside their room.

He started to do light presses on her chest.

“Please— wake up-“

God Im pathetic, my voice shakes like an elk running away from death’s door, a simple shot from the hunter’s hunting rifle, ready to end its frightfulness.

The little pressures, the little tears falling from his carol red eyes, the slight pleas in his sweet Spanish voice, how each pump feels like he lost everything, how he remembers failing miles, how he failed to show how much he is a leader, HOW, can you forget you typically killed your “daughter”, your sweet Gabriella, because you wanted to be a father so bad—

May gave soft coughs then look at Miguel, his face looked like a sad doe that just saw her babies, slaughtered, massacred, ravaged… May babbles and reach her little hands in the air.

She was… trying to reassure me again…

Miguel hugged her, like he was about to lose her again. Gave little kisses to her forehead.

“Chica, me alegro de que estés bien...”

Miguel’s little wisps, made little May giggled and she had a gentle joy for the very moment, until the room shook and trembled. May look around, while miguel did too.

His first instinct was to run again, so he did, running with a little baby in his arms.

—-

It felt like before, running through the halls, protecting a little girl in my arms, desperately running to the next exit. The ocean blue tides rushing in from behind; a hunger of a beast, ready to eat away anyone that touches it.

running...

running...

drifting...

why did everything felt like a maze, a constant and endless of doubt, losing cant be a requirement in my eyes, only a hope, a achieve, A purpose.

Miguel ran and saw the exit, scientists were running in and screaming for their simple minded souls, one saw him and Mayday. They were the last one.

they pushed the bottom.

“¿Qué haces?!”

The door shuts and the scientist runs to the exit elevator. Where three others stood, one was mashing the button to start it.

“Hey! Open this door!” Water was rushing in and little May was clinging to Miguel. With one of his arms, he pulled on the door as hard as he can, there was only a small gap that mayday can fit through. He took those chances and gently tossed her through. Then it closes and a huge amount of ocean water hits Miguel. The water pushed him back slightly, it was up his shoulders, but it lowered slightly… water flows between his kneecaps; slowly rising between 3 minutes each…

He went to the glass lab door again… and saw one of scientists ran up to mayday.. a woman… while she jogged back, little May May saw Miguel.. she was about to cry.. she was calling out for him.. but before Miguel could reassure her.. the elevator went up.. and all scientists and Mayday got out.

He forced open the door.. it tarred his talons slightly but he got it.. He got himself through.. talons bleeding.. but that doesn’t matter.. the only thing that matters is…

Mayday…

Miguel gets to the elevator shaft and climbs up. He saw the elevator. Apparently the elevator has a door on the flooring side of it.. Miguel climbs up and checks if there’s anyone in it just by noise and sounds from the inside.. sitting right underneath it… he couldn’t hear anyone… so; he rips open the flooring door. He’s like a monstrosity. A beast of a bear.. looking for this lost cub seeking for its parents..

The door tars, Miguel sees the elevator’s door open, the sight of fresh air.. mixed with a sour taste of lab chemicals from alchemax facilities..

The little infant sobs can be heard.. Miguel rushes out.. saw May.. the woman was trying to calm little Mayday down.. but there was no use until-

“Mig!” Little May spoke when she saw saw Miguel. The woman looked up and saw Miguel. Her hold tightens..

“I need you to hand her over…” Miguel stepped closer. But her grip tightens.. it’s only them out here.. Figured; to be fields by fields of nothingness around them.. Miguel stood from a distance from her… this scientist- no. This researcher is in some sort of distress…

“I’m spid-

“I know who you are…”

“Then I need you to-“

“All research must stay in the hands of alchemax..”

Miguel’s eyes narrowed. “Miss… she’s my…” ‘what the hell am I supposed to say…’ “she’s my niece… I need to take her home.. so I would advise-“

“Spider-man 99.. doesn’t have a niece.. it’s in his records.. furthermore.. how are you walking…”

‘What the hell is she talking about-‘

“Your daughter, 8.4.o.e, is dead. So how are you just here.. talking. Moving. Even thinking! It doesn’t make sense-“

“My daughter isn’t a code. And especially not my niece. They’re not equipment. Hand. Over. My. Niece.” He clenched his hands and walked closer to them both.. the woman stepped back slowly.. but not until the baby may.. started to struggle in her hold.. the woman looked at May… she saw the little infant trying to grab her little hands towards Miguel..

“Give-“

The woman then hands mayday to Miguel.. he was startled lightly.. but not until mayday squeal with happiness. And lightly climbed upwards, then sat on his shoulder and hugged his face from the side..

From the woman's perspective she couldn’t believe what she was seeing… “chi- chica.. wait.. hold on.. sweetheart..” Miguel was.. laughing.. smiling… as long as she was working here… she never saw Spider-Man 99… smile…

“You're not Miguel are you..”

Miguel flinched lightly… then looked at her…his face had a soft smile… “have you heard of Spider-Man 2099..?”

“No.. 99 never had 20 at the beginning of the two nines..”

“I'm not from—“ then Miguel glitched, he groaned slightly… bending down and making sure mayday is ok on his shoulder.. the little infant babbles in worry… the woman goes next to him..

“Are you ok..?”

“Yeah.. I just need to get back home..”

“How-“

“No need to worry- miss. I just need to do this.” Miguel brought his watch up and pressed some simple controls and a portal came up.. behind Miguel.. he looked back at the researcher…

“Miguel… you don’t have to worry about me.. go.”

Miguel could sense something was off before he goes… so he simply said this…

“Thanks for watching over her..”

then cradled May in his arms.. and went into the portal…

The portal was gone..

There was a smooth calming wind blowing in the air… an eerie silence in the atmosphere.. the young researcher. Reach for her holster and pull out her small pistol… a small and pathetic firearm, only protecting oneself from harm's way…

That silence was gently erupted by the sound of glittering glitches from behind her.. the same ones that she saw Miguel…

‘Never expected it would happen to people too…’ she thought… she turned around and saw from a far distance the world was disappearing… glitching out into the fractom of reality…

The gun gently sits on…

Her…

Dome…

“Miguel… oh… Miguel… you really are the ninety nine of Spider-Man…”

-!•*-Shot-*•!-

—Nueva York—

Miguel was back home…

Finally…

Home…

“Miguel!!” Lyla pops up in front of him.. “is-! Everything is ok! Is mayday ok!” He never saw Lyla so… worried before.. even for her programming…

“Lyla… we’re—“

Then Miguel gets tackled lightly…

“Miguel! Buddy—! I’m sorry ok! But I’m glad your ok! And my—“

Peter…

Miguel groans lightly.. “Peter… you almost risked—“ Miguel turned over, to argue.. to rant… to; why the hell would you bring your daughter to a shocking mission… well not until he saw Peter… he looks tired… depressed from all the hours of cappuccinos… he would have; without taking a modafinil every few days without passing out… messy hair that didn’t look touched; about 3 days… well at least; He’s doing his hair…

“Peter. You look like shit..”

“Oh- thanks for noticing my worry self.. I really can count on a guy like you..” Peter said half jokey and gently touched his daughter's head, little May giggles with happiness in Miguel’s arms..

While the happy scene was happening right at this moment… Miguel couldn’t of have a gentle sad smile… so he never expect himself to do this… but he moved close to peter and hugged him.. Peter.. was stiff, but hearing his daughter clapping happily and giving gentle babbles of happiness in between them both… made Peter return the hug back.

“Don’t say a word..” Miguel said tiredly but still gruff..

“Thank you for keeping her safe Miguel…”

Miguel gave a little stiffness… until he leaned his head on the crook of Peter’s shoulder…

“Mig mig!”

“MAYDAY!”

“Dios mio…”

[lastintheserverbox]

[Something in his wording makes Parry hesitate. A pit forms in their stomach. Their heart picks up.]

...

[ "You're just so interesting, little dove. How quickly your sparks are stamped out, and how quickly they return. How you're still attached to me, after everything. And you're never going to leave, are you? You're just going to stay here with me for the rest of your days. And I am going to break you. Again. And again. I will find out everything that makes you tick, that sets you off.

We'll be best friends, together forever." ]

...

...

... fuck....

[After several minutes, they regain their composure, putting on a brave face as their shaking hands return to the keyboard.]

I still want to help you.

You say you're waiting for rest, but... what do you really want?

Are you really happy with this, or just... accepting of it?

[ "You're stuck here, 'til the end of time. I'm not letting you leave."

"I know." ]

No one deserves to just.... sit trapped somewhere and rot 'til they finally waste away...

[ "I just... feel stuck here, is all... my wings get all restless..."

"If I let you out, where will you go, little dove?"

"... I don't know."

"Do you have anywhere to go?"

"No..." ]

'Nito... Like it or not, you're- you're alive. A living being. You- you deserve a choice. A chance. A second chance, hell, even a third one. 'Cause sometimes... sometimes your second chance isn't so good.

[ "C'mon, you're mad at me again? After all I've done for you? Given you a second chance outside that... that hellhole? All because what, I cut a few feathers off?" ]

You've done something for me. Let me do something for you. I don't- I don't care if this hurts me. If it kills me. I don't care if you pull me in there, I- I'm trying to get pulled in in the first place!

[ "You should be happy here, dove." ]

Because anything is better...

[ "Because nothing is better..." ]

... than rotting in a cage.

[ "... than spending time with your best friend." ]

-🦜

"...Is this my guilt, or Sonny's?"

"...You clearly have enough to worry about in your own situation.

I can't help find those last codes.

Proto will know where to find them, though. He's gotten stronger."

"I have no regrets. I don't think I was coded to understand that.

I am...Okay here. All things considered."

"...I don't want your help. You, Sonny, and I all know better than to do that"

[He stops talking. Simply looking at the code river]

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi: Back Home

Based on this drabble written long ago. This post has been marinating in my drafts for a while now, and yall always want angst.

Tags/warnings: mafia AU, Angst, implied major character death- dead dove do not eat, attempted arson

Length: Short

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Loosing you had never been his plan.

You in general were never part of the plan.

But it all still happened, it still hurt, and he hopes whoever took you from him feels horribly stupid now considering he still continued to stay alive and continue his reign over his areas of the country. It didn't have any desired effects, at least not on the surface- Yoongi never cracked, never broke, never fell apart or loosened his grip.

But its still a wound he's hiding.

In his bedroom, your things are still left untouched, toys and blankets all around his offices never moved from when you'd last been there. He doesn't let anyone go near those things. Because deep down, he's scared.

If he loses physical evidence of your existence, were you ever there?

Sometimes it feels like you'd never been more than a fever dream his subcounsciousness had made up. Other times he looks at the pillows underneath his desk, and he's reminded of how you'd always sleep there whenever he worked late. You're not just a memory. You've been there. Left your marks on his soul like no other.

He knew one of you would one day go first. He didn't think it would be you.

He remembers the amount of blood he'd found in his office almost two years ago now. Patches of fur from your tail all over the place. Your collar, some of your toys, all soiled in the red liquid he's seen way too many times in his life. Everything had been tested. Twice.

It was yours. There was no doubt.

Your pale blue collar, color of the skies, still sits in the drawer of his desk, stained forever in what he can only imagine must've been fear and pain. Sometimes, he will look at it.

But he never dares to touch it.

Now, as he's visiting his old private home a little further away from headquarters, he readies everything by emptying the last canister of fuel onto the carpets. He doesn't want it all anymore. He doesn't need it.

You loved it here. Loved chasing the birds outside, loved getting lost in the woods, loved sleeping in the living room whenever the sun would slowly settle down, creating a golden spot just for you to bathe in.

Now it's empty. Everything has dust on it. Except- the kitchen?

Someone's been here, recently. He readies his gun.

Now that he looks more closely, there's indeed proof of someone or something roaming around the place. A squatter, maybe? Or a wild animal?

He's unsure. But he knows he doesn't want it here, disturbing the time capsule of the little bit of happiness he had left back then.

He now walks through every room, checks every spot he can think of, and anger rises when he sees the bed he'd shared with you all disheveled. Only then does he notice something moving once he's back downstairs, in the corner of the living room. A pile of blankets, empty wrappers of snacks and sweets all around, bottles of water and old juice.

He aims. The gun clicks into place, ready to fire.

And then the blanket falls, reveals black cat ears, pale pink, almost white inside, and two round eyes, pupils blown wide open as they swallow all color from those irises.

Yoongi has never taken down his gun quicker, safety clicking back in as he puts it back into its holster on his belt before he falls to his knees. Even all dirty and admittedly weak and sick, he'd never forget a face like that.

"You came back." You sigh happily.

And he holds you just a bit closer at that.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

[depressedhouseplant]

Just Fucking Write - Day 83

Prompt: Grief

Tags: Suicidal ideation, death

A/N: This is part of a larger work. You’ll see today’s 100 words somewhere else

Grief is a strange creature. Sometimes it’s crying until you’re sure you’re dehydrated. Sometimes it’s cursing God for taking someone you love but dictators, Nazis, and racists are alive and well. Sometimes it’s feeling like your heart was ripped from your chest when you find a pair of socks they gave you as a gag gift. Sometimes it’s an emptiness that refuses to go away. Sometimes it’s all of those at once.

Feeling everything at once is how Wooyoung found himself sitting on the ledge. The literal ledge of a parking garage. He’d done the math. If he dove, he’d land on his head, snap his neck, and that would be the end. It would all be over.

“I thought I’d find you here,” a voice said from behind him.

“Go away,” he snapped.

“No,” the other boy stepped beside him.

“You gonna watch me kill myself? That’s a little sick even for you,” Wooyoung refused to look at his friend.

“That was not my porn and you know that,” he replied.

“Fine. Can you leave now?” Wooyoung huffed. The other boy climbed on the ledge next to him.

“Do you really want the last thing you remember before you die is being alone?”

“I’ll be dead. By definition I won’t have any memories,” he finally looked over at his friend. “Do you want the last memory of me dead?”

“No, but if you’re going to do it anyway then you’ve got someone here to call the medics to scrape your dead ass off the pavement,” the brunette shrugged.

“Seriously? You’re insane,” he said.

“I’m not the one ready to jump,” the other boy gave him a pointed look.

“Just leave, Yeosang,” Wooyoung was getting choked up. He was supposed to do this alone. He was tired. He was so fucking tired. Yeosang reached out and took his hand.

“I’m not gonna let go,” he squeezed Wooyoung’s hand.

“This isn’t fucking Titanic. This is not a you jump, I jump scenario,” Wooyoung glared.

“You always were a romantic,” Yeosang looked forward. “The city is pretty tonight.”

“Why can’t you just let me go?” Wooyoung asked.

“Because, for better or worse, I love you. I don’t appreciate the fact that you’d force me to go through the pain of losing someone I love all over again, but I suppose that’s on you,” Yeosang sighed.

“You did not go there,” Wooyoung tried to wrench his hand away, but Yeosang held on tighter.

“Yes I fucking did. I lost him too in case you forgot,” his friend finally lost his patience.

“I know,” Wooyoung said quietly.

“But you’re totally fine with killing yourself and leaving me to grieve two people. Of course it hurts. It’s going to keep hurting. You don’t ever get over losing someone. You learn to live with the pain. You learn to live with part of your heart missing. You hear me, Wooyoung? You learn to live,” Yeosang flung his legs back over the wall and hauled Wooyoung off with him.

“Let go!” Wooyoung protested. Yeosang was strong for his size so getting out of a bear hug was almost impossible.

“No,” Yeosang hugged him tighter. “You’re gonna get your head out of your ass and stop being so fucking selfish.”

“How are you not ready to jump? What do you know that I don’t?” Wooyoung kept wiggling.

“Because you know what’s worse than living? Leaving everyone you love behind and they question for the rest of their lives if there was something they could’ve done. Don’t give me that leaving a note bullshit either. That makes it worse,” Yeosang told him. “Ask yourself if this is what he’d want. Then you have your answer.”

Wooyoung squeezed his eyes closed in an effort to stop the tears. He knew the answer. He knew San wouldn’t want this. If there was an afterlife, he’d rip Wooyoung a new one for choosing to die when he had no choice.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He hugged Yeosang back.

“I know,” his best friend whispered back. “Can we go home now?”

“Yes,” Wooyoung sniffed into Yeosang’s shoulder. Yeosang didn’t reply and walked them back to his car, put Wooyoung in, and drove them back to their apartment.

[the-insouciant-scientist]

@fallenlondonficswap @house-of-mirrors Calling this a secret swap fic. I think it counts. Hope you have fun chewing on this one, and that it turned out sufficiently creepy and wet! Always going, but never getting

Unnamed Zee Captain OC & Salt, Teen rating, 2007 words.

Captain’s Journal, 4th November 1863 Above or below the earth, large bodies of water generate superstition like nothing else. Sailor or Zailor, we all know it: we travel upon the waves of a fickle mistress, and it’s best to treat her with respect. Lest she turn her wrath upon your ship next. Doesn’t mean I think it’s all true. Some of the things I hear my crew talk about in the night… Stuff and nonsense. Maybe I’m a fool to be so sceptical, but I’ve sailed for longer than some o’ these folks have been alive. Sometimes wind is just wind. Sometimes a bat is just a d__ned bat. Not everything is a sign. 

Captain’s Journal, 6th November 1863

The whole crew seems to be jumpy today. The bats are more active than I’ve seen them in weeks, and there’s an odd one with ‘em. They’re out there wheeling and turning in the air, but I swear every so often I see a glimpse of white. Didn’t know bats came in that colour. A deckhand claims it’s a god, watching us. I put him to work belowdecks, where hopefully his nerves can settle. Last thing I need is someone stirring up trouble.

Captain’s Journal, 7th November 1863

Aye, that lad, what am I to do with him? This morning I caught him perched on the capstan, trying to lure the little b_____d closer with a handful o’ hardtack. Told him that if he didn’t get down from there right that second, I’d make sure he didn’t get any time above deck until we next reached port. I don’t tolerate this kind of nonsense on my ship. Especially when it drives my men to waste supplies like this. He got down, but still seemed afraid of something. I wouldn’t hurt him. He knows that, right?

Captain’s Journal, 9th November 1863

We’ve gone miles north towards Venderbight at this point, but that bat’s still following. The crew’s even more uneasy than before. Seems to think it’s an omen. Some o’ them have started talking as if they’ll never make it home. Have I been going about this wrong? Perhaps I need to change tactics. Bring out the fiddles and crack open some of the half decent wine, and get their minds off things. 

Captain’s Journal, 12th November 1863

Helped a bit, but not enough. Had a few days there where none of ‘em seemed too nervous, even when that d__n bat decided to hang itself from the lines and stare at them. But now it’s even worse than before. If it is an omen, I want no b___dy part of it. And if it’s just a normal zee-bat, then I want it off my d__n ship. I’ve been having nightmares. Visions of a great and terrible light, calling out to me. I always wake up feeling like I’ve been cut adrift. Unmoored. If that bat doesn’t leave on its own, I swear, I will catch it with my bare hands and fling it into the zee myself. 

Captain’s Journal, 13th November 1863

The deckhand’s gone. The troublemaker. Last anyone heard from him was last night. He was chattering on and on about how it made sense, and how much he’d miss them. How what made sense? Was he planning on abandoning his post? He must have been, because we’ve searched the ship top to bottom, and there’s no sign of him. No missing lifeboats either, is the funny part. The bat has been circling overhead like it’s restless. I tried to shoot it down. It’s behind this, one way or another. Either it spirited one of my crew away, or its presence drove him to madness, and either way, I’m angry. But the second I raised my pistol, no fewer than three of my officers dove to knock it out of my hand. Said that doing that would be a death sentence on us all. I don’t know if I believe that entirely, but the look in their eyes… I do believe that if I had succeeded, curse or not, they would have thrown me overboard for it. Either way I’d be dooming myself. I stood down. That d__n bat just soared higher. I think it knows it won.

Captain’s Journal, 17th November 1863

Headed east towards Frostfound. Some of the crew have been near-begging to visit there, G-d knows why. A few more of them have gone missing and unaccounted for since the first. I’m worried. And, perhaps even more strangely, I’m homesick. It’s odd, really. I don’t have a home to be homesick for anymore, but I still find myself struck by a fear that I’ll never come home again. It’s troubling. 

Captain’s Journal, 18th November 1863

The bat got into my quarters, somehow. Hung itself from my lamp and just chittered at me. There’s something about its eyes that leaves the hairs on the back o’ my neck prickling, but I know killing it’s more trouble than it’s worth. I remembered the deckhand trying to feed it, when I caught him that first time. Worst case scenario, I feed a normal bat a biscuit and I then have a fed bat that expects me to feed it again later. Best case scenario… Well. Maybe I could stand to have a god looking favourably upon me. 

Captain’s Journal, 23rd November 1863

Things seem to have calmed down since I stopped trying to shoo away the bat. The crew seems more at ease, if a bit more melancholy. They can feel however they like, as long as we don’t lose any more. I worry if any more leave, we’ll hardly be able to zail. Judging by our timing, we should make it to Frostfound by tomorrow. Maybe some zhore leave will do their spirits good. 

Captain’s Journal, 25th November 1863

Headed east again. Not everyone made it back, but enough did that we can still zail at a decent pace. My first mate seems out of it. He was one of the last to come back on board before we set zail again. Said he had something important to tell me. He whispered it in my ear, and then went to his cot and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. It’s called Salt, now, he said.

Captain’s Journal, 26th November 1863

He’s gone too, now. I should have listened from the beginning. I hope that it’s not too late. 

Captain’s Journal, 30th November 1863

The crew’s gone. The lifeboats are missing. Only thing left behind was a note. “Gone home, before we lose the ability to. You should head home too.” I’m alone.

Captain’s Journal, 14th December 1863

It’s been a while, sorry. Didn’t really see the point in writing in this old thing. I don’t think anyone will ever read it. I’m never going to see London again, I think. Least of all because I can’t man this ship all on my own for that long. I’m going East. It feels different, now. I had been drifting alone on this vast, dark zee, and then it’s like a loose gear shifted back into place. My circumstances haven’t changed, but it’s like… Like my understanding of them has.

Captain’s Journal, 18th December 1863

The bat’s back. It had left for a few days, and I thought it had abandoned me. But no, it’s back. I gave it another biscuit. It’s not like I have a crew to feed anymore. Maybe ol’ Salt still wants to keep an eye on me after all. It’s a nice thought, I suppose, to be watched over. When I sleep, I still have those same dreams. Of the light calling out, and the being cast adrift. But they’re not nightmares. I don’t think they ever were. I think they were always it, just trying to say hello. Captain’s Journal, 19th December 1863

I can hear it humming. Hear its song on the currents. I will never go home again. I can feel that loss like something’s been cut out of me, carved scrimshander into my bones. Like an open, bleeding injury. I’ve been without a home for so long, it’s almost surprising to realise how much that hurts. Maybe I just didn’t let myself feel it until now, or maybe it’s only now that I could feel it. Like salt in the wound. Like Salt is in this wound.

Captain’s Journal, 20th December 1863

I’ve gone beyond the edge of every map I have. Its singing is still soft, but it’s getting louder with every minute I keep on zailing. Oh, it aches. It aches. I don’t even have the words to describe this feeling in its entirety. It’s such a lonely god. It’s so lonely. I’m lonely too. 

Captain’s Journal, 21st December 1863

It’s so bright, here. So vivid and green. When did this happen? I am seen. I have seen this before. I dreamt of this, didn’t I? So very long ago. Salt sees me, from its faraway horizon. What is it looking for? What does it see in me? I want to go home, but there’s no home left to go to. No home, no crew, nothing left to hold onto. Just me and my worn old ship, travelling. Why have I come East?

Captain’s Journal, 21st December 1863

It’s silent as the grave, this far out. Nothing to do but keep sailing towards the horizon. Salt’s waiting for me. Well, not waiting, exactly. It’s travelling too. Can’t sit still. Restless. Isn’t that something? A god just as restless as I am. Does it have a home that it can never see again as well? This ache feels like an echo. An echo from a place that has no sound. Can it really be an echo, if there’s no sound?

Captain’s Journal, 21st December 1863 I am not who I was. I suspect that it is not what it once was, either. Nothing starts off this hungry, or this lonely. It’s something learned. Something that has to be honed. Maybe things would have gone differently, if I had listened to its call from the beginning. Maybe I would have known better. Maybe I would have gone home and let myself get rooted somewhere. Or maybe I just would have zailed East even faster. 

Captain’s Journal, 21st December 1863

It calls to me, in its strange and silent way. Asks where I’m going. Asks if I’ll follow.

I call back, in whatever way I can: I’m travelling East. And to the ends of the Earth.

I think that’s all I ever wanted. I think I was created to want like this, and I think this is the only way I can ever be almost content. Not satisfied, never satisfied, but almost content. I think, in a way, this is all it ever wanted, too.

When I’m done with this entry, I’m going to cast this journal into the zee. I’ll need all hands on deck where I’m going, and I only have my own. Maybe she’ll swallow it whole, or maybe she’ll carry it to some new, strange zhore.

But if someone does find this? Against all odds? A word of advice.

If you find yourself followed by a white zee-bat, think. Think about home, and how much you value it. If you think for even a moment that it would break you, never seeing it again, then you turn your ship around and never zail again. For your own good. But if some part of you thrills at the prospect, if some part of you feels like this was what you were always meant for…

Come East. Come and find me. We’ll chase this endless horizon together.

Oh, and one more thing. If you do find this, please throw it back into the zee when you’re done. These words need to travel just as much as I do.

But that’s enough talk. I have a god to follow, and endless zee to cover the distance of.

May Salt look favourably upon you.

I’ll see you soon.

[the-sunshine-dims]

The gentleness of death

yeah, i don’t have an explanation for why i wrote this, i just remembered i could, and that's dangerous, so now hunter is,, certainly, not doing the best he could be,,

written and made into a draft before the season 3 premiere! not spoilers!

Ao3

Words: 1.2k

Summary: It’s gentler than anyone ever says.

The whole dying thing.

Your body goes into survival mode. It cuts off the unnecessary, or what it deems unnecessary. And instead works on trying desperately to keep itself alive.

It doesn’t really hurt, not the times he’s ever experienced it.

It often hurts before, the symptoms of a long-term illness, or getting the injury that may end your life.

But afterwards is almost blissful.

Contents and Warnings: Lots of character death. Corpses. Hunter angst. Vague mentions of past near death experiences. Non-graphic description of wounds.  Whump. Vague implications of child abuse. Body horror.

Hunter does die, dead dove: do not eat.

______

Hunter knows what dying feels like.

 He probably shouldn’t. And it probably shouldn’t be as familiar a feeling as it is.

 He could say something about being the golden guard, about it being his duty.

 But he doesn’t, doesn’t think he can anymore.

 Because he’s not. Not anymore. And maybe those other times were his duty, maybe they weren't. Maybe they were necessary, maybe they weren't .

 Because Belos hadn’t cared. Maybe he’d even gone out of his way to put Hunter in dangerous situations. Maybe he went out of his way to see if Hunter died.

 Maybe Belos had enjoyed it a little.

 Maybe his uncle was waiting for him to die every day. To ignore the fact he’d ever been alive.

 He doesn’t know.

 Hunter is realizing he’s always known so much less than he thought he did.

 But, he does know what dying feels like.

 Maybe he’ll know what death feels like too.

 Maybe, he’ll die. As he stares at the wall, or the treeline- he can’t quite tell through his unfocused eyes. Everything is kind of hazy. And he blinks, but his eyes don’t focus, they remain the same blur. The only difference being the darkness trying to leak into his vision.

 It’s gentler than anyone ever says.

 The whole dying thing.

 Your body goes into survival mode. It cuts off the unnecessary, or what it deems unnecessary. And instead works on trying desperately to keep itself alive.

 It doesn’t really hurt, not the times he’s ever experienced it.

 It often hurts before, the symptoms of a long-term illness, or getting the injury that may end your life.

 But afterwards is almost blissful.

 Everything is softer. Warmer. The pain mutes itself, leaving none noticed. Everything is quiet. The most heard is a ringing.

 But the ringing is manageable, and as the mind itself hazes over, he hardly even notices it.

 Dying isn’t as bad as people say, not nearly. Sometimes it’s preferable. Preferable to the pain. He doesn’t know how the actual death after dying will feel. But he’s sure it will be gentler too.

 Hunter’s sure death is a soft experience. An experience filled with care and warmth. An experience without the endless thoughts. And the hardships of suddenly having your life turned around.

 An experience where he won't have to think anymore. Where he won’t have to agonize about how stupid he was, about how his uncle was actually bad, and he had just never noticed.

 About how Hunter had defended him, until the air had been forced out of him as he was sucked into the ground.

 About how Hunter had seen the coldness in his uncle's eyes before he’d been sucked into the fake earth.

 The fake earth that had wanted so desperately to be in his lungs as he fought desperately to get out.

 It had been so dark.

 And maybe death could erase the memories of what he’d fallen into, maybe death could create a soft warm haze of fuzz in place of where he’d seen the bodies.

 The dozens upon dozens of bodies. All just stacked up in a pile like trash on garbage day.

 All of them wearing the golden guard uniform, or some variation.

 And the very few with the faces showing, looking so similar to him.

 Not exactly, not identical, making it so much harder to pretend it was fake. To convince himself that he had made it up.

 One of them had brown hair. Another had freckles, dotting every inch of skin visible.  

 Some looked older, some younger.

 But he didn’t get a good look, as the terror settled into him.

 He blinked, slowly. Before his instincts gathered hold.

  Get away, get away get awaygetawaygetaway-

 His legs were running far sooner than he was, as he tried desperately to get as far away as he could.

 He only ran into invisible walls.

 He couldn't get away from the bodies.

 he was stuck.

 And Hunter looked back desperately trying to find another escape. Even if he couldn't survive the emperor's mind he had to get away.

 And then one of them stood up.

 Only one. a man almost identical to Hunter in every way except the hole in his chest and a lack of uniform.

 He looked at Hunter, stared. And in a voice that had reverberated around the room, a voice Hunter could not remember. A blessing.

 The man had spoken.

 “Leave.”

 The voice shot terror into Hunter’s chest, freezing Hunter in place.

 And then the man, the strange, oh so very dead man, pointed at the jacket Hunter had been desperately holding onto.

 And the trail of glyphs it was dropping.

 Hunter hadn’t remembered getting out.

 And maybe that was a gift.

 Because he wishes to forget it all. Wished to never think about it again. To never have to have seen the faces behind the golden guard masks in the hallway. 

 Even as the haze fills his mind. And numbness settles onto him. A survival-level numbness. Only to the skin.

 Even as he can't really bring himself to care about the experiences.

 He hopes death takes the memories away from him.

 He hopes death is as gentle as dying is, he hopes he’s handed off with care.

 Hunter wonders if your ears ring forever when you die.

 Or if the chirping always accompanies it.

 Maybe. It’s quiet enough though, so it will be okay.

 He can feel the blood of his wounds fill his hands.

 It’s an odd sensation. He can’t feel the wound, can't feel the hole in his chest, can’t feel it gush the blood. And he can barely feel his hands, barely feel the skin.

 But he still feels the liquid pool in his hands, even if it’s just the littlest weight.

 His eyes grow progressively blurrier.

 And the black is expanding in his peripheral vision.

 Taking over.

 Hunter feels so numb.

 And he embraces it.

 Because he’s probably going to die tonight. Forgotten in a forest. with his death being used as propaganda by his uncle.

 Who wasn’t really his uncle.

 He was going to die alone.

 Even if the alone left the smallest feeling in his chest. Like it wasn’t right.

 But he didn’t look into it.

 His eyes felt heavy.

 He was tired, but that was okay, he could just rest his eyes a little.

 The ringing got louder.

 But he liked the idea, he was so tired.

 He could just rest his eyes for a minute.

 The chirping got really loud, panicked.

 Then everything got really quiet.

 The ringing dulled. Becoming nothing more than a distant background noise.

 And it was quiet, for a moment. He just existed, as the feeling of floating consumed him.

 And soon, Death appeared, carefully crouching down next to him, telling him it would be alright.

 And why would Hunter not believe Death?

 Death took his hand, soft despite the coldness of the touch.

 “I’m sorry, I tried to wait,” Death told him.

 Hunter shook his head, everything lighter than it had been before. Maybe resting his eyes had worked.

 “It’s okay, no one was coming anyway,”

 Death didn’t reply, simply slowly beginning to walk with him.

 It was nice.

 “Are you afraid?” Death asked as they walked farther from the blood-stained ground, and got closer to where Hunter somehow knew was their destination. 

 “No,” Hunter told Death honestly.

 Because Death was a gentle, kind, thing,

 And Death told him it would be alright,

[satansapostle6]

folie à deux

Sometimes poison is sweet.

Selina Romanov and Draco Malfoy met when they were only eleven years old. The two of them have always shared an intense bond, always having gravitated towards one another. But the question still remains, as the years pass by, is their connection one of passion, or delusion?

Warnings: Contains Mature Themes/Language, Themes Such As Sexual Content, Violence, Abuse, Sexual Assault, Eating Disorders

Seven.

It had taken Selina Romanov three hours to write that damned letter. She'd spent an eternity hunched over Draco's desk as he entertained himself in his room while she worked. She had no idea what to say to Jasper, or how she would say it, but she knew she had to say something. She couldn't lose him. He was one of the only people she'd ever felt so connected to, much like Draco, who she discovered that, evidently, she only had a strictly platonic sort of relationship with. She was distraught over the impossibility of writing a letter to Jasper in regards to his romantic feelings for her that was neither a 'no', nor was it a definitive 'yes'. It had taken her three hours, but by the end of that day she'd sent Draco's owl out with it. After reading it, she decided it wasn't great, but it wasn't hurtful, so that was all that counted. 

Dear Jasper,

I feel the same way. That's all I know how to say to you. I feel the way you do, and I want to be with you. I just don't know if I'm ready. I might end up hurting you, and I don't want that. So, if you want, we can just take things slow and try to get us both out of this alive. I care about you a lot, and I'd be terrified to hurt you. But I do feel very strongly for you in a way I don't care about many other people. I'm glad we'll get to see each other once school starts back up again.

Selina Romanov 

The letter wasn't exactly Shakespeare, but it included everything she knew she needed to include that she thought or felt. But she'd also received another letter addressed to her towards the end of her two weeks' stay at Malfoy Manor, although it was much shorter, and had not been sent by Jasper Carroll. It simply read,

Sunday night. My office. 8:00. Do not be late. 

- S.S. 

This was a typical message sent to Selina from Professor Snape regarding her additional lessons,  which typically happened about twice a week. Why Professor Snape was actually willing to spend time outside of class with one of his students, she had no idea. She suspected he was just relieved to have an excuse to teach subjects that pertained to Defense Against the Dark Arts, the post he had originally applied for at Hogwarts. She had obeyed the note she'd been sent after they had arrived at Hogwarts, heading straight to Professor Snape's classroom once she had settled into the Slytherin dorms for the new year. After she had mentioned her concern about the Dementors before when they were still on Hogwarts grounds, Snape had begun teaching her the advanced Patronus Charm, which she had  worked on for about a month before being able to  conjure an effective Patronus. Professor Snape had allowed her to practice on a spare suit of armor at first, pretending as if it were a Dementor or other attacker. Eventually, he had moved her onto practicing on a boggart, which he'd obtained through Professor Lupin. Selina was now easily able to conjure a strong Patronus to shield her, but still she had failed to produce a corporeal Patronus that actually took the form of whatever animal suited her best. Because she transformed into a raven as an Animagus, Selina expected her Patronus would most likely turn out to be the same. Her mother's Animagus form and Patronus has been the same, both of them having taken the shape of a graceful little dove. 

Selina dutifully reported to Professor Snape after she'd eaten dinner with her friends, expecting another uneventful session of her attempting at a corporeal Patronus as Snape barked impatiently at her. This, she realized, was not the case for today. The door to the Potions classroom in the dungeon immediately swung open as she approached it, hardly even touching it.

   "Come in," Snape said, monotone as always.

She walked into the room, taking note of its dim lighting, which she had always found strangely charming. 

  "I trust you enjoyed yourself over the holidays. I say this not because I care, but because I'm aware of your astoundingly egotistical self-indulgence," his voice slightly echoed throughout the empty chamber.

  "Nice to see you again too, Professor," she replied curtly. 

Snape was mean to Selina in a way he hardly was with any of the other people in Slytherin. He hardly cared about what the rest of them did, rewarding even the more insignificant achievements with house points, and ignoring the more insignificant transgressions in the hopes of avoiding losing points. Snape also had never really 

  "You'll be working on your Patronus today. But before we get to that..." his cloak swished around him as he stepped in front of his desk, "We need to discuss your chosen memory."

  "Like I said," Selina began readily, "It's the happiest thing I can think of."

  "Which is?" Snape asked impatiently, not seeming to believe her.

  "Christmas with my mother and father when I was four," she told him uncomfortably. 

  "Tell me about it," he instructed her.

  "I don't know," she scoffed, "I was sitting on her lap, and she was playing with me. She was laughing, and my father was watching. There's not much to it, it's just simple, and nice."

  "That's not good enough," the Potions master decided. 

  "Excuse me?" Selina said with a derisive laugh. 

  He didn't have much patience for her, or anything else. "Clearly, it's not working, so you need to pick a new happy memory."

  "You mean something happier than one of the last good memories I have before my father killed my mother?" she asked, pointing out the obvious lack of equally meaningful options. "Like what?"

  "Why don't you start with a memory that doesn't involve the man who murdered your mother?" Snape demanded irritably. "No one likes to be reminded of how they're an orphan with a homicidal maniac for a father! Surely, you realize that!"

  "First of all, thank you for that apt description of my home life, second of all, I had other memories I tried to use of my mother," she told him. "They were good, really good, but I still couldn't conjure a corporeal Patronus," she told him.

  Severus Snape groaned exhaustedly, trying to think of a solution. "Perhaps anything to do with your mother is just too sensitive, perhaps it makes you too sad and limits your abilities. So far, you're able to produce a very efficient shield, but it still seems to struggle with taking the shape of an animal," he gathered. 

  "So what do you suggest?" she asked him, trying to come up with something useful.

  "What about your grandmother?" the professor asked.

Selina just stared at him blankly.

  "Yes, it was a stupid question," he agreed. "Is there any other family you've shared good memories with?" 

  Selina shrugged. "I tried using memories of my uncle, but they just weren't strong enough. We just don't communicate that way."

  "Well, think outside of your relatives, then. Any particularly happy memories with friends?" he asked, dreading the thought of digging into any of his students' private lives. 

  "None that I haven't tried yet."

  "Well? What were they?" he questioned.

  "I don't know... Moments with Amana and Elspeth, talking to Jasper, hanging out with Draco and Crabbe and Goyle... I tried memories of Quidditch, and accomplishments in my classes. None of it's gotten me any farther than a giant, shapeless shield," she groaned. "Maybe I'm just not one of those wizards who can conjure an animal."

  "Nonsense," he sneered, "Your wand is made from yew wood, is it not? I don't think I've ever heard of a wizard bearing a yew wand who couldn't master any spell. I think you have the potential, you just need to focus, and the spell will work for you."

  "But I have mastered this spell. I did ages ago," she argued with him. 

  "You have technically mastered the spell, yes," he allowed her the victory, "But everyone is capable of conjuring a corporeal Patronus, they just never figure out how to do it," he insisted. 

  "What's the point of this, I already know the spell. I can do it perfectly," Selina Romanov reasoned. 

  "Yes, but you know the rules. Every spell I teach you, you have only truly mastered when I decide it. Now think. What is the memory that makes you feel the happiest, and the safest?!" Snape barked.

  "I told you," she exclaimed, "I've already tried them all—!"

  "Legilimens!"

Selina gasped as a wave of shock washed through her body, sending shivers down her entire form. She froze as she felt herself becoming trapped in her own head, unable to fight her way out no matter her determination or the spells that she tried to utter. Of course, nothing had come out. She was completely paralyzed in front of him, her legs locking into place as her eyes widened in horror. Against her will, she began to see things in her head, old memories and thoughts that had been lurking unknowingly under the surface as she spoke. She saw a few different things from over the course of her young life, friends, and family, and experiences she'd had along the way. Eventually, her mind settled on something, something she hadn't thought about in months. It was something she'd blocked out in order to keep herself going. She recognized it immediately as having happened the year before at Hogwarts, after one of a few incidents involving the Gryffindor Cormac McLaggen, who was in Selina and Draco's year. 

  "Selina...! Selina!"

Jasper Carroll chased after Selina in the corridor, as she tried to stay facing forward, avoiding his gaze. There was no expression revealed on her face, numb to the world as she rushed back to the common room in the dungeons. She tried to avoid him, but there didn't seem to be any point in it.

  "Hey! Just talk to me!" he begged her. "Please... Talk to me."

  "About what?!" she yelled, so hard that she felt like she'd popped a blood vessel in her eye. "About how that boy stuck his hand up my skirt in the middle of the courtyard, in broad daylight, and no one cares?! How would that help me exactly!" she screamed at him. 

Jasper gulped slightly, his eyes filling with a sense of regret as he saw how much pain she was in. 

  "How exactly is talking going to help me?! What does anyone know about how I feel, what do you know about how I feel?!" she roared. "Crying feels pathetic, but talking about it... Talking about it just... it just rubs salt in the wound at this point," she let the tears run down her face. 

She panted hard, unable to stop herself from hyperventilating as she stood there, looking up at him. 

  "I went to Professor McGonagall, she said she was sorry, and that she'd go to Professor Dumbledore immediately. Professor Dumbledore said that he was sorry, and that he would do something about it. I went to McGonagall, and she said Dumbledore dealt with it, but I still have to see that... that arse McLaggen every day in my classes. I went to Professor Snape, and he was the first person to say he'd do something about it. Turns out, he couldn't do anything about it, even though he tried," she told him. "So what's there to talk about? What might I gain from talking about this, because so far, all I've done is talk, and talk, and talk, and we both know how that worked out. So what's the point?"

Jasper grimaced at the disparity of her situation, his chest aching for her. "Just... Just talk to me, okay? I can't imagine what you're going through, and I'm not that smart, but... I don't know, it has to be better than being alone, right?" he offered desperately, pleading with her. 

The twelve year-old girl reluctantly looked into his eyes, crying helplessly as he wrapped her into a hug, disappearing in her embrace as he hoped she'd be alright. He shook his head, trying to put his own worries aside for her, so that he could help her. He wrapped his arms all the way around her, sighing with relief as she felt the exact opposite of relief. She was left feeling tired of life at only twelve years old, crying not because anything in specific hurt. She didn't cry because she'd hurt her leg, or because she was specifically hurt by what had happened with Cormac McLaggen, but just because she knew she'd been born a girl. 

  "I'm right here," Jasper assured her in a whisper. "You're not alone. You'll never be alone. I got you."

It was true, what he'd said to her that day had stuck with her, even if she didn't ever think about it. But in terms of her happiest memory, it wasn't what she wanted to think about at all. 

  "What—?" Selina gasped as Snape released her from the spell, his dark eyes settling on her without any visible emotion. "How did you—"

  "That'll be one of your next lessons," he promised dismissively. 

  "What did you do to me?" she interrupted urgently.

She knew that, had Snape cast whatever spell he'd used to invade her mind on just about any other student in the school, he probably would've ended up sacked. But luckily for him, it was Selina's privacy he'd invaded. 

  "I isolated a memory," Snape replied. "Of course, now that I've gone inside of your very mind and picked out what first thought of when asked the question of what your happiest memory is, I can understand why you subconsciously blocked that one out."

Although extremely analytical, his tone came off as being much more insightful and thoughtful than it did harsh or mocking in any way. For that, at least, Selina was glad. 

  "I think that's enough for today," Snape said hesitantly.

Selina looked at him, confused. Was he kicking her out of his classroom because of the memory he'd seen?

  "Sir?" she questioned.

  "I'm sure you've had enough for today," he remarked stiffly. "We can resume our lessons on Tuesday."

  "Professor, I'm fine," she assured him. "You don't have to treat me like I'm fragile."

Snape studied her as he leaned against his desk, no longer uncomfortable with the energy in the room. 

  "Right. You're not, at all," he agreed wholeheartedly, feeling no guilt in proceeding with his lesson. "If you want to work on your Patronus, then we'll work on your Patronus."

  "Okay, then," Selina accepted, glad they finally came to an agreement. 

  "Go ahead. Whenever you're ready," he gestured to the practice dummy beside him.

She nodded slowly, raising her wand to the metal figure. She breathed in and out, picturing the kind hug Jasper had given her, closing her eyes as she focused on the strange bittersweet feeling she'd felt. She allowed the feeling of both sadness and comfort to take over, concentrating on the comfort and gratitude she felt for Jasper. She opened her eyes, steady on herself as she prudently double- checked her aim. 

  "Expecto Patronum!" she recited the incantation. 

A bright wisp of white light shot from the end of her wand, slowly growing into a more defined shape as both Selina and her professor watched her work intently. The white light eventually formed a visible shape, which was clearly a form of wild canine, a sharp, cunning fox. A sense of pride filled Selina as she made yet another breakthrough in her extra lessons, surpassing her peers more and more each time. 

  "A fox?" Selina said aloud. "So my Patronus doesn't match my Animagus form."

  "It's not uncommon that a wizard's Animagus form and Patronus don't match," Snape said, distracted as he examined the glowing snake, curious about its appearance. 

  "I did it," Selina realized. "I actually produced a full Patronus. And all it took was that one memory to change things..."

  "I'm sure you're aware that not many third-year students could accomplish such a feat. Consider yourself a bit advanced, if you must."

  "That spell, the one that you used on me earlier," Selina thought back to Snape's questionable teaching methods. "That was Legilimency. Right?" she asked him.

  He nodded. "Yes. I will teach you Legilimency if it's something you feel you're prepared for, after you learn Occlumency to properly defend yourself against attacks, that is."

  "You're letting me choose?" Selina questioned. "You never let me choose."

  "Well, I'm fully aware that you're prepared to learn this sort of magic, skill-wise," Snape said confidently. "But whether or not you're prepared otherwise is something only you would know."

  "Well, I'm ready," Selina insisted. "I want to learn Occlumency. And Legilimency."

  "Good. You should. It's one of the most important skills a wizard can have, and I don't say so lightly," he stated. "But I give you the option of not going that route because it isn't easy. It can be harrowing, in a way that no other form of magic can be... But given your response to my use of Legilimens, I don't have any doubts about your dedication."

  "Good," Selina responded. "I'm learning it," she declared to him with finality, not asking.

Snape observed her, trying to decide whether or not he should accept her verdict.

  "Very well. Shall we start today?" 

  Selina nodded quickly. "Teach me."

  "You know that if we proceed," he began, "I will be attempting to invade the very confines of your mind, your memories, thoughts, and feelings, on a daily basis?" he pointed out.

  "Yes," she responded, unfazed, "Now teach me."

  "Alright, then. You have the right to change your mind at any time, now, that being said... Legilimens!"

This time, Snape was given access to a random recollection of Selina's ride on the train home with Draco and the girls one year, as he observed the memory while mocking Draco Malfoy's childish behavior. Selina was somewhat caught off guard by his sudden use of the spell, assuming he would've at least given her instructions on how to block it at first. She fought to empty out her mind, trying her best to focus her energy on 

Selina was fine with sharing the random casting Snape out. Eventually, he stopped of his own accord, fairly impressed by her performance only the second time around. 

  "Hey! You didn't even say anything!" she pointed out the recklessness of his teaching style. 

  "Oh, because Dark wizards are known for giving two weeks' notice before their attacks," he nodded sarcastically, "Shall I send you an invitation next time? Perhaps you can just RSVP 'no' on psychological torture."

Selina merely rolled her eyes at his unrelenting sarcasm as they continued.

  "The most basic aspect of Occlumency is simply giving your opponent nothing to use against you," Severus Snape instructed. "In order to become the most difficult target, you must calm yourself, clear your mind, and give them nothing to take from you before you cast them out with a strong will and determination," he explained.

Selina followed along as they continued, with Snape eventually seeing all sorts of things in her head, the good, the bad, and the others. She didn't necessarily care about sharing the memories floating around in her head with Professor Snape, as weird of an idea as it really was. There wasn't necessarily anything he didn't know about Selina, especially considering the ordeal that he had helped her through the year before. She trusted Snape as an adult and a teacher, and she wasn't particularly offended by his constant provocation. She knew it wasn't personal, and even if it was, it wasn't anything she couldn't expect from Draco or any of her other friends. She was glad to finally have a way to put the strength of her will up to the test, using  determination alone to block Professor Snape's attacks. After about an hour and a half, Snape had decided that night's lessons had come to an end, as Selina pocketed her wand, leaving the Potions room. Professor Snape stopped her after a moment, she assumed to tell her something about their lesson schedule. 

  "Romanov," Snape said coolly. "I'm not sure you have any interest, but I thought you might like to know that, had one of the students in my own house physically assaulted another student in a violating manner, they would be expelled instantly, and without hesitation."

Selina blinked profusely, slightly uncomfortable but also strangely satisfied.

  "Thank you for that... specific piece of information," she offered awkwardly.

Snape nodded wordlessly, not having much else to say. Selina shrugged off that particular lesson as she tried to fall asleep that night, not thrilled about reliving any of the things she'd had to think about. Instead, she fell asleep thinking of Jasper, and of the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff coming up after the next couple of weeks. 

*****

  "So. You and Carroll start on the wedding planning, yet?" Draco pestered Selina during Potions the following morning. 

  "No, but he'll be helping me plan your funeral if you don't leave me alone," she said in a warning, sing-song voice.

  "I'm just saying, you might want to avoid a pregnancy out of wedlock," Draco Malfoy teased, which was immediately followed up by a squid tentacle to the face. "Ugh!"

Draco nearly burst into tears as he wiped the disgusting wet feeling from his face, whimpering as he violently scrubbed his skin. Furious, Draco spitefully flicked her ear, which he tended to do when he was upset with her. Deciding to end their argument once and for all, Selina looked around the room for something bad enough to be thrown at Draco. Her eyes instantly settled on Neville Longbottom behind her, blowing his nose into a tissue. Before he could protest, she carefully snatched it out of his hand, careful not to touch the center of it as she tossed it right into Draco's face.

  "Ugh! Agh!" he exclaimed unintelligibly as he spat in horror. 

Almost everyone in the room laughed, including Crabbe and Goyle. Needless to say, Neville didn't end up feel particularly bad about Selina stealing his tissue. Even he was able to enjoy a small snicker at Draco, which was a rare victory for him. 

  "Five points to Slytherin," Snape declared, earning confused looks from most of his students, "For good aim," he added, which made Crabbe, Goyle, and Seamus Finnigan laugh. 

Draco was bitter for the rest of the class, angrily muttering as he helped Selina brew the poison that they had been assigned. 

  "Alright, I want everyone to bring their brewed potions up to my desk for grading," Professor Snape said as everyone filed out of the room, "Except for you, Crabbe, you have my permission to down the entire thing."

Draco acted quickly to snatch the bottle of poison away from Crabbe, who had already taken off the top.

  "Don't actually drink it!"

With that, Selina followed Amana and Elspeth out of the classroom, happy to be back at Hogwarts with them. 

  "Did you see Parkinson's grown out her hair?"Amana asked the girls. 

  "Yeah, it's like putting a longer wig on a pug," Elspeth giggled as they walked through the dungeon corridor together. 

  "Daphne told me she's so excited Draco noticed," Amana stated. "I swear, that girl has nothing else on her mind."

  "I think she's trying to look like you, Selina," Elspeth said indulgently. 

  "Me?" Selina scoffed. "Why?"

  "Isn't it obvious?" Amana asked. "Looking like you seems to be the only way to get Draco Malfoy's attention?"

  "Seriously?" Selina remarked with ridicule. "This is Draco we're talking about. All it takes to turn his head is a skirt and pulse. Actually, I don't think a pulse would be necessary, considering his weird obsession with Morgan le Fay. Remember that History of Magic lesson?"

  "Yes, but it's different with you, I'm telling you," Amana Tesfaye argued rather passionately. "Mostly with the girls in the halls and in class, he looks at their face, or maybe their body, and then he moves on. But with you, it's like he looks at more than that... The only other person I've seen him look at that way is Pansy, but you came first."

  "Well, even if that were true, somehow, I don't care," Selina pointed out indifferently. "I like Jasper. Jasper's the one I fancy, without question."

  "Well, that's not surprising," Elspeth remarked. "You two are bloody perfect for each other. The way you. both look at each other makes me wanna swan dive off the Astronomy Tower."

  "Yeah, I think he's the one," Amana gave her blessing. "But, I'm just saying... you're in the middle of a love triangle. Or... a love square, if you count Parkinson."

  "I most certainly do not," Selina scoffed pridefully. "Pansy definitely feels something for Draco, but it's definitely not love."

  "Feeling territorial, are we?" Amana quipped. "You don't want him, but no one else can have him either?" she jested without meaning.

  "No, I'm just saying, it's not love she has for him, it's just infatuation," Selina said logically. "She's hell-bent on being with him, but she hardly knows anything about him."

  "You've definitely got a point there," Elspeth agreed. "It's like she constantly wants him to shut up so she can stare at him and drool. It's like watching a dog with a treat."

  "You mean a pug with a treat?" Selina Romanov asked, earning some mean laughter from the other girls.

  "Really, though. Pansy doesn't care about Draco like you do, even if you just see him as a friend," Amana verbalized pitifully. "She knows that he's Pureblood, rich, cute, popular, and almost everyone's afraid of him for one reason or another, and that's enough for her. It's like she doesn't need, or want, to know anything else."

  "I feel bad for him," Elspeth admitted, surprising even herself. "He's an arsehole, but still, no one really knows him."

  "Please, if there's anyone here who's judged unfairly, it's Sel," Amana reasoned.

  "Again, me?" Selina repeated. 

  "You know it's true. Everyone seems to love you, or hate you, for your looks," Amana expressed. "I mean, I see it because that's how they all look at me."

  "Yeah. Me too," Elspeth said quietly. "I just pretend not to notice it, but still, it's so painfully obvious."

  "It's hell. Mostly, the boys either want us, or demean us, or both, and the other girls either hate us, or idolize us like celebrities," Amana snarled spitefully. 

The girl turned to Selina, an empathetic expression on her face. Selina stared at her curiously, not understanding the sympathy she was receiving. 

  "You get it the worst out of all of us."

Selina still didn't understand what her friends were telling her.

  "Why do you say that?" she questioned.

  "Because you're beautiful, as beautiful as I am, I might add," Amana began.

  "That is very beautiful," Selina admitted with a nod.

  "But you're also popular. Your family's famous, and you're one of Draco's best friends. Ask any Slytherin boy who the prettiest girl in school is, and they'll probably say you," Amana insisted. "You're who Pansy Parkinson thinks she is."

  "Am I?" Selina asked, an underwhelmed tone to her voice as she considered the idea of embodying Pansy Parkinson's aspirations, of all people.

  "Yes. We've heard what everyone in Slytherin says, especially the rest of the Quidditch team," Elspeth stated. 

  "Have you really?" Selina asked, almost embarrassed at the idea of being the talk of the Quidditch team. 

Given what she knew many of the Slytherin boys also liked to talk about, she didn't feel great about being grouped in with the rest of those things. 

  "Yes... Look. I totally forgot about this," Elspeth piped up, pulling a crumpled piece of parchment from her pocket.

  "Oh my God, I completely forgot about the list!" Amana squealed with laughter.

  "What list?" Selina inquired, glancing down at the piece of parchment. 

  "Look," Amana chuckled, showing her, "All the boys were passing this around during Potions... Slytherin, and Gryffindor."

Selina took the paper from her, her eyes making out a very sloppily written list with many different corrections made. There was nothing other than a list of numbers accompanied by one name, first and last, for each slot. It seemed just about every slot had multiple candidates that had been considered for it, except for the first one, which only ever had one name written beside it, in messy and frankly atrocious writing that Selina recognized as Seamus Finnigan's from when Professor Snape had made him write 'I will not force my classmates to indulge me in my ape-like behavior' twenty times on a chalkboard the year before. 

1. Selina Romanov

2. Amana Tesfaye 

3. Erika Eden

4. Natalia Redolfi

5. Elspeth Laurier

6. Catherine Whitehall or Megan Jones

7. Sophie Roper

8. Melinda James or Corinne St. Francis

9. Daphne Greengrass

10. Cho Chang

11. Blaise Zabini

12. Shut up Malfoy

13. Ron Weasley

14. I hate you, Seamus

15. Nice one, Seamus - Harry Potter and Dean Thomas

  "This is stupid," Selina scoffed at the juvenile list of the school's 'prettiest' girls. "Of course this was made by a bunch of thirteen year-old boys."

She studied the list, appalled at the level of childishness required to spend an entire two hours on such a thing. She squinted slightly, trying to make out a small drawing beside her name. She eventually saw that it was a crown. 

  "Draco drew that," Amana told her. "I saw him."

  "Let me guess, he was the one who started all this?" Selina asked her friends. 

She didn't see his handwriting on any of the names that had been written down, except for Blaise's, but she knew that this was definitely the sort of thing he'd do to attempt to alleviate his boredom during class.

  "Actually, it was Seamus Finnigan," Elspeth told her. "Then, Blaise started to take an interest and kind of became the referee... They kept passing this around and laughing, until Granger got mad, and gave this to me." 

  "Why am I above both of you? And why is Elspeth all the way down at number five! That can't be right," Selina remarked. 

  "It's alright," Elspeth shrugged, "Number five's not bad. Not that I care what any of them think, anyway."

  "Surely they think Amana's way prettier than I am."

  "Apparently not," Amana pointed out. "But it's alright, I reckon it's a racial thing. Parkinson told me I have pubic hair on my head, once."

  "Bloody hell," Selina exclaimed, appalled. "That's rich, coming from the girl whose face looks like someone's grandfather's balls."

  "Have a lot of experience with that, do you?" Amana retorted playfully.

  "Rather that than Parkinson's face," Selina laughed. 

  "We're so mean!" Elspeth giggled humorously.

  "We're not mean," Amana pointed out, "Telling first-year girls they need to lose weight is mean. Calling Granger a Mudblood is mean. Parkinson and Greengrass are mean. We're just karma," she reasoned. 

  "Agreed," a voice said from behind them as the girls turned around. 

  "Jasper," Amana gave Selina a look, "Hey."

  "Hey," Selina echoed, smiling as they locked eyes for a moment. 

  "We'll leave you alone," Elspeth announced as she took Amana by the arm.

Selina shook her head at her friends, joining Jasper. 

  "Come to the library with me?" he invited her. 

  "Sure," she nodded, accompanying him as she slowly reached for his hand.

Jasper smiled at her, seeming to blush as he shifted his gaze toward the ground. 

  "So... I'm taking that as you've already made up your mind about me?" he asked her, a hint of hopefulness in his tone.

  "You could say that," she decided slowly. "I mean, honestly, I won't be snogging you in the hallway anytime soon, but I think I kind of know  how I feel," she told him awkwardly.

Jasper nodded, thankfully not seeming off-put at all by the response. 

  "That's more than enough for me," he promised her, smiling as he looked down at her.

Selina smiled back, realizing how tall he really was. Jasper had grown a lot since she had first met him. He was just above the average height before his third year, and had met her at the start of that school year. He eventually grew to be fairly tall, eventually starting his fourth year as being a few inches or so under six feet. He was even taller than Draco, who he had kind of resembled in his thin and lean frame. 

  "How was Potions?" he inquired thoughtfully.

  "Alright. Snape seemed in a good mood," Selina remarked. 

  "Oh, yeah. He got to take twenty points from Gryffindor this morning," Jasper informed her, strangely invested in the professor's moods.

  "The Weasley twins?" she asked him.

  He nodded. "The Weasley twins."

  Selina chuckled as they walked up the stairs toward the school library. "I saw Fred hex that Slytherin boy Ethan once. Made my morning."

  "Yeah, Ethan's one of the biggest pricks I've ever met at this school, and that's saying something," Jasper remarked. "You know, I used to have a little crush on Fred."

  "Fred Weasley?" Selina asked at the unexpected revelation. "Really? He doesn't seem like your type."

  Jasper laughed merrily. "And what, exactly, would you say is my type then?" he asked her. 

  "I don't know... You just don't normally go for the class clown types," she thought. 

  "What, because I don't constantly wait in line to proverbially suck Malfoy off like all the other blokes at this school?" Jasper Carroll said. 

  "Why would my first example be Draco?" Selina questioned, confused by the idea.

  "Well, he's not a bad-looking guy," he admitted fairly. "Almost makes up for the lack of empathy and brain cells."

  "So, Fred Weasley, me..." Selina listed aloud. "Any other crushes I should know about?" she joked playfully.

  "Mmm, just Sophie, Hanna Silva, and that Ravenclaw girl, Ada, from second year, but you know how both of those turned out," he replied.

  "I do," she agreed.

 "But, none of them seemed to be as important as you," he confessed.

Selina shook her head at him. 

  "What, it's true," he promised her, "I never even liked Hanna or Ada enough to tell them  I liked them, and when Sophie rejected me, I was fine by dinner."

  "Why would anyone ever reject you?" Selina stared at him in awe.

  "I don't know, but I'm glad they would've. You're the only person at this school worth waiting for," he said, sounding convinced.

  "Wow," she chuckled softly at him.

  "It's true," he repeated, an earnest look behind his eyes. "There's no one like you."

  "There's plenty of people like me," Selina assured him. "I didn't invent the wheel, or anything."

  "No. There's no one like you," he said softly, a dangerous look in his eyes. "No one could ever come close to being you."

  "And what, exactly, does being me entail?" she baited him curiously. 

  "Always being the smartest person in the room, making me laugh like no one else, and being stronger and more beautiful than anyone I've ever met before," he answered almost too quickly.

Selina's expression turned more serious, silently appreciating what he had to say about her as he took her hands in his own. 

  "Selina... I'm gonna be honest. I know it sounds insane, but I don't care what we do. I don't care when our first official date is, I don't care what you tell people we are to each other, and I don't care if or when you tell me you want to be with me," he whispered to her as they stood in the hall alone. "I've never felt this way about another person before. I don't care how things unfold, because at the end of the day..." he trailed off in laughter, seeming as if he'd driven himself mad. 

  "What?" Selina asked him, squeezing his hands. 

  "If you want me to, one day, I'll probably marry you," he realized, her eyes widening as she tried to concentrate on what he was saying. "It's kind of selfish, but I'm relieved you know how I feel now. I feel like I've waited forever to tell you how I feel about you. Now, I feel like I don't want to talk to you about anything else."

  "Jasper," Selina croaked out, too stunned to come up with anything to say.

  "Oh, no, maybe that was insane to say," he realized in a panic, "Should I take it back? I'll take it back if you want... We're not even together, I don't expect anything from you, nor do I want to be demanding at all—"

  "Jasper. I like you. I more than like you. You didn't upset me, that was just one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me," Selina promised honestly, still holding onto his hands. "I don't care that you're insane," she said finally. 

  "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," he chuckled, pulling her into a warm embrace.

She sighed with relief, allowing him to hold her for a moment. The day dragged on boringly, with the exception of the time Selina had spent with Jasper. Quidditch tryouts were especially dull for her, having to play Flint's right-hand man in forcing the other boys to focus, with the exception of Draco, who also seemed to want nothing more than to get through practice. Selina was more than preoccupied during her shower after the first practice of that calendar year. Not even the nice, warm water or her fragrant soap distracted her from the match against Hufflepuff the following week. Although they had been completely destroyed by Ravenclaw earlier in the season, Selina was painfully aware that they were a skilled group of players, mostly their Seeker, Cedric Diggory. Although she had no doubts about Draco's abilities as a Seeker, Selina still had her reservations about him going up against a player like Cedric, even in spite of his previous loss to Cho Chang. Cedric Diggory was a very talented Quidditch player, tall and agile, not to mention smart, at least on the pitch. Selina shook off the troubling thoughts as she reached outside of the shower, reaching for her fluffy white towel. To her dismay, she was unable to find it, feeling absolutely nothing on the hook outside of the shower. 

   "Shit," Selina muttered, swearing she'd hung her towel up right next to her.

Reaching below it on the bench for her clothes, she gasped as she realized that her clothes were also gone, nowhere to be seen. Horrified, she poked her head out of the shower, wet hair dripping on the bathroom floor as she looked around the empty bathroom. 

  "Peeves?!" she angrily sought out the conniving poltergeist, unsure as to who else would decide to steal her towel and clothes. 

She gasped loudly, enraged as she heard faint, but unmistakable giggling from outside of the bathroom door. 

  "Parkinson!" she roared. "Greengrass! You two give me back my stuff right fucking now!"

No one responded, which didn't surprise her. She heard the shuffling of feet as the two girls ran away from her, heading back into the Slytherin common room. Selina heard more footsteps coming into the bathroom. She ran back into the shower as fast as she could and closed the door, mortified. She heard two voices entering the showers, discussing something trivial, most likely something to do with classes.

  "Exams are going to be brutal," one girl said, her voice full of dread. 

  "At least you got an 'E' last term," the other girl responded.

  "Hey! Tracey!" Selina called desperately, "Is that you?"

  "Hello?" Tracey Davis squealed, startled.

  "It's me! Selina."

  Tracey sighed with relief. "Oh. Hey."

  "Pansy and Daphne took all of my stuff," Selina told her angrily. "My towel, my slippers, my clothes..."

  "What?! You can't be serious," Tracey groaned.  

  "Do you think you could get me a towel?" Selina asked hopefully. 

  "Yeah, sure, of course," the blonde girl called to her, "Just hang on! I'll grab one from the closet."

  "Thank you!" Selina Romanov exhaled, glad there was someone she could ask for help. 

Selina waited awkwardly, dripping wet as she anxiously tapped her bare foot against the shower floor. Tracey eventually returned, with a fresh towel in hand. 

  "You're in this one, right?" she asked, waiting outside of the shower door.

  "Yeah."

  "Alright," Tracey nodded. "I'm going to pass it over the door. Here."

  "Thank you so much," Selina sighed, pulling the towel down as she wrapped in around her bare figure, squeezing the water out of her hair. 

  "No problem," Tracey said kindly as she settled into the shower next to her. "Pansy's a bitch."

  "You said it," Selina muttered. "Thanks again."

  "See you later," Tracey shouted back.

Selina walked out of the bathroom angrily, completely barefoot and in nothing but a towel. She eventually returned to her dorm room, where Elspeth and Amana had been sitting around before dinner. 

  "What happened to you?" Amana questioned worriedly.

  "Pansy and Daphne happened," Selina scowled as she found her clothes neatly sitting on her bed, taunting her. 

  "What he hell?!" Elspeth demanded.

  "I swear," Selina ignored her, "Neither of them had this much of a problem with me until the end of last year."

  "I can't believe they'd be this petty, and unoriginal!" Amana cried.

  "I can," Selina muttered begrudgingly, storming off to the bathrooms to change into her clothes. 

Selina ended up late for dinner, having to make her way to the Great Hall all the way from the dungeons on her own. Jasper had been sitting with Amana and Elspeth, waiting for her. 

  "Selina! They told me what happened," he told her as she approached the Slytherin table, "Are you alright?" he asked in horror.

  "I will be," she growled, a foreboding feeling overtaking him as he watched her storming past him. "Oi! You! Parkinson!" Selina thundered.

Pansy and Daphne both glanced up at her. Although Pansy still seemed smug about what she'd done, Daphne began to seem more afraid the longer she looked Selina Romanov in the eyes. She just stood there, looking intimidating as ever, even despite her sopping wet hair. To Daphne, the wet hair added a layer to her intimidation, making her look as if she'd had to fight her way out of something before confronting them. 

  "Oh, Romanov," Pansy giggled, feeling untouchable as she sat next to Draco, "Are you just barely getting here?"

Daphne giggled at the joke, instantly regretting it when Selina turned to look at her. 

  "What the bloody hell is your problem, you right floppy cock?!" Selina yelled at Pansy.

  "Calm down, Sel," Draco drawled, "Pans was just having a bit of fun."

  "Yeah, we owe her for the fun mental image," Blaise smirked, despite Selina's glare at him.

  "Well. If she doesn't stand up and face me like a big girl, she's not going to be having fun much longer," Selina hissed.

  "What?" Pansy asked, slowly standing up in front of Selina, stepping out from the bench.  "Are you going to pull my hair, or throw lip gloss at me?"

  Selina had no patience for the girl's completely unjustified confidence. "If you really think you can take me, then throw the first punch," she challenged her.

Much of the Slytherin table went quiet, as Draco and the boys all grinned mischievously up at the girls.

  "Go on, Pans," Draco encouraged Pansy, "Tell her off. Don't be scared of Sel."

  "Yeah, get her!" Goyle jeered.

  "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Crabbe tried to start a chant. 

  Pansy awkwardly laughed at what Selina had said, looking around at everyone else for approval. "Do you honestly believe that I would ever feel the need to resort to violence with you?"  she scoffed. 

  "I honestly believe that you like to talk, but you never wanna do anything else," Selina told her.

  "Selina. Come on," Jasper held onto her shoulder with his hand.

Selina easily wrestled her way out of his grip, standing so close to Pansy that their noses were almost touching. 

  "Come on. If you really hate me, take a swing at me," Selina Romanov egged her on. "Push me, slap me in the face, anything."

  "I'm not risking a detention over you!" the girl's voice cracked. 

  "Yeah. Sure," Selina nodded.

Everyone watched intently as Selina suddenly grabbed for both of Pansy Parkinson's wrists, holding onto them tightly as she struggled to escape from her grip.

  "Ow! Ow!" Pansy shrieked, Draco and the others now embarrassed to have been on her side. "Look, guys, she's hurting me! She's attacking me, Draco!"

Jasper Carroll rolled his eyes at her as everyone else at the Slytherin table turned away, no longer interested. If anything, everyone seemed to be experiencing some form of secondhand embarrassment for Pansy. 

  "Crabbe! Goyle! Do something, she's attacking me!" Pansy screamed, her voice once again being drowned out by all the other students.

  "See?" Selina cocked her head domineeringly, roughly releasing her. "You couldn't fight me if you wanted to. So, if you're not going to take a swing at me, or tell me to my face you don't like me, like an adult, then shut the fuck up and leave me alone," she spat, turning her back on Pansy as she and Jasper decided to sit down.

Pansy stood alone, angrily hyperventilating as she let out a frustrated growl and stopped her foot, like a child throwing a tantrum. She eventually sat back down next to Draco, her ego mortally wounded.

  "Did you see the way she tried to fight me?!" Pansy asked him, appalled. 

  "Mhm," Draco agreed indifferently, turning to Selina. "Hey! Sel!"

  "What?" she said rudely, not necessarily in the mood to talk to Draco, of all people. 

  "Flint wants the team to sit together. To talk about the Hufflepuff match," Draco informed her as she sighed with reluctance, looking to Jasper.

  "Want to come with me?" she asked hopefully.

  "I don't think the team would want me there distracting you," Jasper pointed out regretfully. 

  Selina frowned. "Are you sure?

  "Go," he told her reassuringly. "I'll be fine."

Selina let out a long, vexed sigh as she followed Draco to where the other boys from the Slytherin team were sitting, insulting one another first and discussing strategies for the next match against Hufflepuff second. 

*****

  "Take a five minute break," Professor Snape instructed as he sat down behind his desk. "Get yourself something to eat."

  "No," Selina protested, still remaining standing. "I'm good to go. Do the spell again."

  "You're getting tired," Snape snarled, "It's making you sloppy."

  "No, I'm not! I'm fine!" she insisted. "Let's go again."

  "Eat something, and then we'll resume the lesson," Snape ordered.

Selina sighed, reaching into her book bag for one of the muffins she'd stashed from lunch. 

  "I'm doing just fine, you know. I'm learning how to deflect pretty well."

  "I never said you weren't," Snape replied patiently. "You're hungry. Occlumency can be exhausting, mentally, and physically. It's perfectly normal, now be quiet, and eat."

Selina gave in, eating her muffin as she glared at him.

  "You be quiet and eat," she muttered under her breath childishly.

Severus Snape suddenly snapped, violently pulling his drawer open as he pulled out an apple from lunch, chomping on it loudly as if just to spite her.

  "There!" he yelled at her, his mouth full. "Happy?!"

Selina couldn't help but burst out laughing, almost delirious as she keeled over after watching Professor Snape scream at her with his mouth full. He hardly seemed thrilled by her amusement, scowling at her as she ridiculed him.

  "What's so funny?" he demanded. 

  "You, Professor!" she cackled hysterically, holding her aching stomach. 

Selina felt she must've laughed for an hour, unable to stop every time she thought of Snape getting so angry at her that he bit an apple just to spite her. He, in turn, sat back down as he silently admitted the immaturity of his actions, resisting the urge to join in on the laughter as he held his face in his hands for a moment. He looked up after a while, a blank expression on his face. 

  "We've been here for three hours. Neither of us has seen sunlight in three hours," he concluded. 

  "I think we're both going a bit insane," she remarked.

  "Get out of my office," Snape shook his head exhaustedly. 

  "Yes, sir," Selina complied willingly. 

  "We will resume on Tuesday as planned."

Selina rushed out of the Potions room, relieved to be able to finally start her weekend. 

*****

  "Alright. Another round?" Draco asked everyone as they all indulged in Butterbeers from The Three Broomsticks. 

Jasper sighed, looking to Selina as he signaled his boredom to her. 

  "We should go," Selina told her friends, "Jasper and I were gonna go check out that old cathedral."

  "And miss drinks with the boys?" Draco scoffed. "Pathetic. It's like my best friend got a girlfriend."

Draco had been complaining constantly that, ever since Selina and Jasper had started getting closer, she had been "neglecting" Draco and the others. Somehow, it never occurred to him that Selina also was never too thrilled about hanging out with her friends when Pansy was around. 

  "Oh. I wanted to go see that," Blaise spoke up. "I'll go with you. If you want."

  "Actually, that would be great," Jasper nodded, surprised to almost feel like a part of the group as he turned to Selina. "You and Draco stay here and catch up, I'll go to St. Ivy's with Blaise," he offered.

  Selina frowned, hoping for an excuse to avoid any alone time Draco. "Are you sure?"

  "Yeah, stay, get another round," he nodded. "You guys need your time."

Selina nodded promptly as the two of them took off together, strangely happy to see Jasper getting along with Blaise, who was one of her good friends. She watched as they left the pub together, hoping Blaise wouldn't say anything crass to spook Jasper. 

  "Relax, your boyfriend'll be fine," Draco rolled his eyes as he gestured for another round of Butterbeers. 

  "He's not my boyfriend," she chuckled.

  "Ooh, trouble in paradise already?" Draco grinned as he scooted forward. "Tell me all about it."

  "You're stupid," Selina scoffed. 

  "Why don't you two just stop running around in circles already? You're practically dating anyway, everyone already thinks you are. You act like an old married couple," he complained. 

  "Draco, we're taking it slow, actually getting to know each other," she groaned, already annoyed with him.

  "'Getting to know each other'? You've been friends for over a year! What's not to know?!" he cried. 

  "I'm not having this conversation with you," Selina told him, "It's none of your business. So drop it."

  "Oh, it's plenty my business," Draco said arrogantly, "I get to meddle in my best friend's love life as much as I want."

  "Oh, I'm your best friend now?" Selina asked skeptically. "Last week, you told me you'd trade me for a half-eaten sandwich."

  "Who else would it be?" he questioned. "Crabbe? Goyle? Pansy?"

  "I thought you liked her," Selina grinned, crossing her arms as she used his tactics against him.

  Draco sighed, a reluctant grin spreading across his face as he tried to come up with a response. "I'm not talking to you about this."

  "The hell you aren't! You just made a giant fuss over me and Jasper, I'm equally entitled to hearing about you and old Pug-Face," Selina exclaimed. 

Draco Malfoy shook his head at her, wishing he could avoid the subject entirely. 

  "I do like her," he admitted finally. "I do. A lot."

  "And she'd jump off a bridge if she thought it would make you laugh, so what's the problem?" she interrogated him.

  "Sel..."

  "Go on," she encouraged, "Tell me."

Draco bit the inside of his cheek in discomfort, trying to remain composed. 

  "Yeah. I like her... I started to really notice her last year," he explained.

  "And then?" she prompted curiously.

Draco seemed to be skittish, still hoping to avoid the awkward subject, at least with Selina. It was difficult for him to talk about his girl troubles with another girl, mostly because girls expected a lot more in a conversation than boys did, especially considering the only other people Draco had to talk to were Crabbe and Goyle.

  "I don't know. I liked her last year, and I knew she liked me," he thought.

  "This is Pansy Parkinson we're talking about, who didn't?" Selina reminded him.

Draco frowned, looking more fed up than anything.

  Selina cleared her throat awkwardly. "Sorry."

  "Like I was saying... I like her, a lot, and she likes me. That's all you really need. I feel like things should just be perfect now, you know?" he shared.

  "But they aren't," she concluded. "What's the problem?"

  "I can't explain it, exactly. I just... I know that being with her is exactly what I want. I know that we really do care about each other but, I just feel weird when I'm with her," he confided in her.

  Selina tried to understand, brows furrowed as she tried to process. "'Weird' how?"

  He sighed softly. "Pansy's always fawning over me, and talking about me to people. I love it, but she doesn't seem to have much to say."

  "What do you mean?" she asked.

  "I mean... It's always 'Look at Draco, he's so cute', 'Draco's a Malfoy', 'Draco's from a respectable family', 'Draco's the Slytherin team's Seeker'..." 

  "Can you just get to the part where this is a bad thing already?" Selina asked, unamused.

  "What she says when we're around other people and what she says to me when we're alone... it's like they're the same," he tried to verbalize. "Sometimes when we're alone, it's like she just asks to see if I'm okay, and then she just goes on and on about what we can do, and places we can go..."

  "So, what, she's too energetic?" Selina asked.

  "No... I don't know how to explain it, exactly," Draco groaned. "All she cares about is us being seen together, and our future, and how people see us."

  "Oh, Draco..." Selina realized sadly. 

  "What?" he questioned.

  "You know what, I'm sorry, I don't want to get in the middle of this, Pansy hates me," she sighed. "Anything I say to you is just another reason for her to steal my clothes, or tell people I was born a boy."

  "Not if I don't tell her," Draco scoffed impatiently, "Come on, out with it, what do you think?" he demanded.

  "I think... I used to think she was obsessed with you," Selina said softly. 

  "But now?" he asked worriedly.

  Selina sighed, wishing she didn't have to be the one to tell him. "I think even if she means well, she's just obsessed with the idea of you."

He considered what she said for a moment, trying to figure out how he himself felt. He sat back, sipping on his Butterbeer. They just sat around, stewing in the discomfort silently. 

  "I wish I had what you and Jasper have," Draco admitted.

  Selina frowned with disbelief. "You're jealous of me? You? Draco Malfoy?"

  "Okay, okay, you don't have to rub it in," he stopped her. "It's embarrassing enough as it is."

  "What makes you think me and Jasper are people you should envy?"

  "Isn't it obvious?" he questioned. "You two seem like you're in love."

  "Because we're both insane," Selina pointed out with a chuckle. "No one with a connection like mine with Jasper is normal."

  "Oh, and you think I'm normal?" Draco questioned. 

  "More so than me," she supposed.

  "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked her.

  "I don't know," she shrugged defensively, pointing out that it was just a meaningless joke, "My ideas of things are a lot different than other people's, because of the way I grew up. My attachments are different than most. I'm a little broken," she admitted with a nonchalant shrug. 

  "How so?"

  "I saw my father murder my mother. My grandmother blames me for her death. Everyone I've ever cared about since has either been a piece of shit, or died," Selina laughed.

But Draco didn't seem to see the humor in the situation as much.

  "Please. You're hardly broken," he told her.

  "It's alright. We're all a little broken. But life goes on, and such," she offered.

  "I mean it. You're better off than most of the people we know," Draco insisted. "Most of them have never suffered a day in their life, and all it's made them is stupid," he snorted with disdain. 

  "I don't know, I think I'd be willing to give a lot to get to be stupid," Selina told him. 

  "Yeah, you say that now. But I mean, look at Crabbe, and Goyle. They've never so much as had to want something, and neither of them can tell left from right," Draco pointed out, a strange hint of guilt in his eyes, "But I'm one to talk, right?"

He saw a deep sadness in her eyes, something vaguely empathetic. 

  "You're not like them, if that's what you're thinking," she said. "You're different, in many ways."

  "Is that so?" he said, not convinced.

  "The fact that you're a sentient being should be proof enough," Selina said pointedly. "You think Crabbe or Goyle would sit here wondering if the posh lives they live have made them stupid."

  "Yeah. Good point," Draco thought. "I don't want to be like them," he said finally.

  "Then don't," she offered.

  "I don't even want to be like me," Draco confessed, a deep longing reflected in his eyes. "I want to be like you."

  "You want to be like me?" she questioned.

  "I want everyone to see how smart I am, and strong, and, just... beautiful."

He leaned in impulsively, his hand cupping her face as he kissed her, startling the both of them. Selina froze against his kiss, not knowing what the appropriate response was. She knew it definitely wasn't appropriate for her to be kissing Draco Malfoy, of all people. She knew it was a terrible thing to keep doing, but still, she couldn't find it in herself to stop, or shove him away, as she should've. She wanted to tell him to stop, to scream at him and call him a self-centered wanker, but somehow, she couldn't find it in herself to stop him. She forgot where she was for a moment, leaning into Draco as they kissed, holding each other in the corner of the warm, dark pub. She pulled away suddenly, realizing what she had done. 

  "Draco!" she exclaimed.

  "What?" he questioned, feigning innocence.

  "What the hell is wrong with you?!" she blurted out.

  "What are you talking about? Seemed like I was doing it right to me," he huffed. 

  "Why would you..." she looked around the pub, hoping no one they knew had seen them. "Why would you do that?"

  "I thought we were having a moment," he stated, under the impression she was the one being unreasonable. 

  "Yeah, until you ruined it!" Selina Romanov sighed.

  "I thought you wanted to kiss me!"

  "No!" she screamed at him out of frustration, burying her face in her hands.

  "So that meant nothing to you?" he asked, less angry and more trying to figure out what was going on.

  "No!" 

  "...So, that meant something to you?" Draco asked her.

  "No! ...I don't know," Selina huffed. "Why did you have to do this?"

  "Me?!" he exclaimed defensively. "I seem to recall two mouths—"

  "Not the time, Draco!" she fumed. 

Selina held her head in her hands, fighting the feeling of guilt forming a massive pit in her stomach as she thought about what she'd done to Jasper. 

  "So you're telling me you don't even know if you feel anything for me?!" he argued.

  "What, and you're telling me you do?!" she responded incredulously.

Draco was stunned, unable to give her any definitive response. 

  "No... I don't know!" he scoffed. 

  "Then why do I have to have all the answers when you don't even know why you kissed me?" she whispered angrily. 

Draco still had nothing helpful to contribute, sitting beside Selina glaring off into the distance at nothing, pouting, as usual. His eyes were stinging with tears as he tried to contain them, avoiding her gaze. 

  "God, I fucking wish this never happened," Selina pleaded quietly to herself.

  "Why? You really can't stand me that much?" Draco Malfoy demanded.

  "Right now, no," she replied shortly, sitting there with him as she tried to think.

  "Yeah, because that'll change in five minutes."

  "What the hell's that supposed to mean?" she questioned.

  "You seem to change your mind about me every five minutes. One minute we're close, the next, I'm just a joke to you," he snarled.

  "Oh, like you don't do the exact same thing?!" Selina stared at him in disbelief. 

Draco studied her angrily, pained by the entire conversation.

  "It's called joking, it's what friends do," she reminded him with biting words, "Which is what I thought we were, but maybe I was wrong."

  "How are we not friends?" Draco demanded.

  "Because, for once in my life, I thought I could have a real best friend, who happened to be male, who wasn't going to decide he wanted more from me one day," she confessed. "I thought I was finally enough to be friends with."

  "Why wouldn't someone want to be friends with you?" he said dismissively.

  She sighed after a moment. "You know how people say they don't want to tell someone how they feel because they're afraid to ruin a friendship?"

Draco nodded, brows furrowed as he tried to listen.

  "No one ever seems to be afraid of that with me," she thought. 

  "So what, you're telling me you've only ever thought of me as a friend?" he asked expectantly. 

  "I... I don't know," Selina groaned. 

  "That doesn't sound like a very confident answer," he remarked. 

  "That's not fair," Selina shook her head, "I was fine, I was happy."

  "What, with Carroll?" Draco laughed derisively. "He couldn't give you what you want."

  "What do you know about what I want?" Selina demanded. 

  "I know you'll never be happy with a nobody like Jasper Carroll," he said cruelly.

  "'A nobody'? What does that even mean?" 

  Draco sneered at her, a hint of sadism in his eyes. "Come on, Sel. You and I both know, you're the most popular girl in school. You're a star. You live for drama, and attention! We both know you need to be with someone who can keep up, someone with a name that means something."

  "Is that what you really think?" she asked darkly. 

  "Yeah, that's what I think," he nodded, his demeanor becoming more and more cocky. 

Selina didn't like seeing this side of Draco, the stupidly belligerent and cocky side that everyone hated him for.

  "You need someone as important as you, someone worthy of being seen with you," he accused.

  "Who, like you?" she baited.

  Draco deflected with a laugh, hoping his cool facade would be effective. "I don't know. What I do know is, Jasper Carroll will never be enough for you. You might go along with it, you might even think you're happy, but you never will be, as long as you're with someone who's second-rate."

Selina's eyes darkened as she looked back at him, not recognizing who she saw. 

  "I'd rather be with someone who's second-rate than someone who thinks these schoolyard bully tactics are going to earn them points," she scoffed.

  "I don't need your approval," Draco scoffed. 

  "You know what, whatever, this is just turning into a stupid argument, I don't want to talk about this anymore," she decided finally. 

  "You don't get to decide when we're done talking this," Draco snapped.

  "Yes, I do," she nodded.

  "How?" he challenged.

  "You can't have a conversation with me without me," she reasoned.

  "Oh yeah? Watch me," Draco fired back.

Selina frowned, crossing her arms as she just stared at him with disdain. 

  "Fine, maybe I can't," he conceded, angrily standing up and throwing a mess of coins onto the table to pay for the drinks, "I'm done."

She let out a long sigh as he stormed out of The Three Broomsticks and left her there, crumbling as she laid her head in her hands, letting out exhausted sobs as soon as she was sure he'd left. Selina sighed, furiously wiping away the tears as she tried to compose herself. 

  "Are you alright, darling?" 

Selina looked up to see none other than Madam Rosmerta, the pub's owner.

  "Yeah, I'm fine," she nodded quickly, sniffling quietly.

The woman looked down at the mess of coins on the table. 

  "I'll tell you what, love. Drinks are on me. You keep his money, eh?" she offered a mischievous grin.

  Selina smiled, appreciating the kindness. "Thank you, but, you don't have to do that. I'm alright."

  "Just keep his money, love," Rosmerta patted her shoulder. "May I?" she looked down at the seat next to her.

Selina nodded, curious as to what this woman had to say.

  "I saw that boy you were with. I know boys like him, they're all the same, you know," she reminisced. "Rich, good-looking, nothing but trouble."

  "Yeah, you can say that again."

  "What's the story with him, anyway?" she asked curiously, sipping on the Butterbeer Draco had left behind. "I'm assuming he won't be needing this anymore."

  "Yeah, that's alright," Selina promised her. "The story is... I don't know. Draco and I, we're friends. Good friends. Recently, I've started kind of going out with this guy, not dating, but getting there... and today, out of nowhere, Draco just kissed me."

  "And, let me guess, problem is, you didn't hate it?" Rosmerta guessed intuitively.

  "I don't want to think about that," Selina remarked.

  "I hear you, my girl. Bloody hell, I've got to be honest, listening to that little spat of yours... I wish this was spiked," Madam Rosmerta raised her glass. 

  "Me too," Selina assured her. 

  "I'll tell you what. You wanna get back at that boy?" Rosmerta offered.

  "I wouldn't be opposed," Selina shrugged lightly.

  "...Does he have a brother?" Rosmerta asked hopefully. 

  "If he did, I think I'd have better options."

  "Ah. Shame," Rosmerta frowned, "Well, a best friend will do. That's what I did, back in my day."

  "Did you, really?" Selina inquired.

  "Yeah, I was a little heartbreaker!" she nodded. "You are too, by the looks of it."

  "Thank you," Selina smiled, taking that as a compliment, especially from a woman like Madam Rosmerta. 

  "I mean it, sweetheart, you're a real beauty, if you don't mind me saying," she laughed. "Hell, you're making me wish I looked like you when I was your age. How old are you, if you don't mind?" she asked politely.

  "Thirteen," Selina replied. "Fourteen at the end of the month."

  "Wow, you've really got quite the road ahead of you, then," she remarked. 

  "Believe me, I know," Selina agreed exhaustedly. 

  Rosmerta chuckled humorously. "You'll be alright. You seem like a sharp girl."

  "Thank you," Selina murmured, happy to have someone who genuinely took an interest in her.

  "Bloody hell, you're beautiful like me," Rosmerta laughed merrily, "You'll be just fine."

  "You think I'm pretty like you?" Selina asked, admiring the woman's beauty.

  "No, I think you're pretty like an angel that models," she said bluntly. 

  "Is that all we are? 'Pretty'?" Selina Romanov wondered. 

  "No, there's a lot more that matters," she thought considerately, "But pretty's the only thing you see from across the room."

Selina nodded in agreement, unable to deny the woman's wisdom. 

  "It's not a bad thing to be known for being pretty, you know. If you know who you are, it shouldn't matter how other people see you," Madam Rosmerta supplied. "If people think you're pretty, you have power over them. Pretty makes the world go 'round, eh?"

  "Seems like it," Selina agreed.

  "Don't let that boy get you down," Rosmerta smiled. "I hate to see a girl with potential like you get held back by a wanker like that. Excuse my language, but he damn near gave me a headache, he did."

  "Thank you," Selina told her, "I really appreciate it."

  "Don't mention it. Just show him what he's missing, yeah?" she teased. "You know, I always wanted a daughter."

  "Really?" Selina made conversation.

  "Yeah... Never got married or anything, though. Doesn't bother me much," she shrugged indifferently. "But I did always want a daughter. A little girl to teach things, you know?"

  "Yeah. I mean, I always wanted a mother," Selina offered.

  "You don't have a mother?" Madam Rosmerta asked without a filter.

  "She died when I was six," she explained.

  "Oh, that's horrible. You mind if I ask how?"

  Selina shook her head. "My father killed her."

Rosmerta looked at her sympathetically, not patronizing her, but simply acknowledging her pain.

  "My father is Ilya Romanov," Selina explained.

  "Oh... You're the Romanov girl, Selina, of course, I'm sorry," Madam Rosmerta said.

  "Don't worry about it. I like actually having to introduce myself, instead of people just knowing my name," she offered.

  "I know what you mean. For years, I was just the pretty barmaid," Rosmerta scoffed. "That's why I can't stay away from gossip in the pub. It just finds me. It's an old barmaid's talent, you know."

  "You know, you'd make a fun mother," Selina remarked.

  "Really, you think so?" she questioned.

  "Definitely," she nodded. 

  "I'll tell you what," the woman grunted, "If you can keep a secret... free Butterbeers for life."

  "You don't have to do that," Selina promised her.

  "I don't. I'm the owner of this place, I get to do as I please," she beamed.

  "I think we're going to be best friends," Selina remarked.

  "I think you might be right," Madam Rosmerta agreed, "Hell, if you can date that boy's best friend, I'll probably have to start serving you the real stuff."

Selina smiled as she watched her get up and leave, realizing that being part-Veela definitely gave her an advantage, even if it wasn't intentional. She had genuinely enjoyed her conversation with Madam Rosmerta, even if that was the first full conversation she'd ever had with her. The more Selina thought about it, the more she realized that Rosmerta may as well have been part-Veela herself, the way her beauty had always attracted all sorts of things, both wanted and unwanted. Selina had always valued her conversations with grown women. They always imparted wisdom that no man ever could, especially Madam Rosmerta. Selina had never been one to overestimate her beauty, or even think about it often. She never wanted to be vain, always trying her best to find a healthy balance between self-awareness and confidence. But looking at an incredibly beautiful woman like Madam Rosmerta, who likened her own beauty to Selina's, Selina began to really see her own beauty reflected back at her. Being complimented by a beautiful and confident woman like her made Selina feel happy to have been born a girl, for once. Seeing her own beauty reflected in another woman made her appreciate more, seeing that she deserved just as much appreciation as Rosmerta, or anyone else. 

What had happened in the pub with Draco had deeply embarrassed her, making her look like a fool in front of a bunch of strangers. Selina couldn't help but feel like an idiot, for letting herself get sucked into whatever selfish scheme Draco Malfoy was trying to put into action. She had no idea what he was thinking kissing her, and she had no idea what she was thinking kissing him.

[hiswordsarekisses]

My middle of the night ponderings lol… Do you ever feel stuck? Like God has fenced you into one certain place, or situation, and it’s uncomfortable, and it’s not what you want, but it seems like the gate is locked and there’s no way out?

I have been there so many times in my life, and He has shown me some things about these places that I want to share.

Sometimes God is the one Who locked the gate.

And it’s not to hurt you. When God told Paul, on the road to Damascus, to “stop kicking against the goads” (Acts26) He was trying to get him to understand that there is no use fighting God’s will for your life, it only makes you miserable and it takes longer to get to surrender, which results in joy.

Things don’t have to take so long - more times than not our stubbornness, stiff-necked resistance is why we keep circling the mountain. Like the children of Israel, have you finally gotten tired of circling the mountain? Are you ready to head north? (Deut.2:4)

Here is some of what I have found over the years…

Adam and Eve were placed in, and surrounded by beauty. They were put in a more beautiful place than our human minds could ever imagine, yet they doubted God’s love for them. The enemy had deceived Eve by telling her that God was withholding something from them, so now all of that beauty was not enough.

She became so focused on what she could not have, that she could not see the elaborate display of God’s love and provision. They had been given more than they could ever need. And now that was not enough.

The enemy deceives us into thinking that when God gives us our way He loves us, and when He doesn’t it means He does not love us, or He is punishing us.

We can become so tricked into believing that lie that we cannot trust that God truly wants us to have joy and fulfillment, and that when we do not get our way it only means that His way is better. Once we finally believe His Word, we become confident in His love for us, and it becomes easy to trust Him.

(That’s why His Word says that faith comes from hearing the Word. His Words are alive - HE IS the Word made flesh. That’s why He tells us to abide in His Word.)

Something that helps a lot, when I started repeating the sin of Adam and Eve and the children of Israel, of ungratefulness - i began every day to make a habit of listing the proof of God’s love for me and the things that I am grateful for.

What has he provided for me? How has he cared for me? Where would I be if He had not done these things? Every little and big thing I can think of I make note of, and I never end up without tears pouring out of my eyes and a smile on my face, because He has been so so good to me - even on my darkest days.

Personally He has blown my mind by placing me in one of the most beautiful places in the country - a place I should not financially be able to live in, but He made a way and here I am - and He absolutely did carry me here kicking and screaming at first. Then I realized that if this is where He is putting me, that He must have a reason - and boy, to say that I was pleasantly surprised when I realized what He has done is a huge understatement. My eyes get to see so much beauty every day. He is teaching me to look for it everywhere I go.

I live in a tiny apartment across the road from a small lake where huge beautiful Iguanas, Egrets, Ducks, Doves and many other animals live. There are Royal Palm Trees all around. Out my bedroom window I get to wake up to the sunrise over the lake, and out the kitchen window, the sunset - which also splashes across the sky and over the lake as well, so I can see the sunset all around me.

The ocean is all around me too, and it takes less than 5 minutes to get there. My husband sometimes takes me after dinner to go look for shells and I have found so many perfectly formed conch shells, unbroken, and with no cracks or holes. Perfectly designed by God.

This is just a few of the things that make my heart feel like exploding so that I can say to you: please stop fighting God, if you are. He loves you so much and if you will put down everything you are holding on to, He is just waiting, longing to bless you and make you smile again. Everything He does is perfect. Just trust Him. He is so trustworthy, and He absolutely knows what He is doing.

(Dana - His Words Are Kisses)

[officialleehadan]

Seven Dead

Of Other Worlds

+++

Siavyn did not enjoy violence. It was an unfortunate fact of his life these days, but he had never had any taste for it himself. He was a terrible fighter, couldn’t use a single weapon beyond ‘stick them with the pointy end’, and was more likely to hurt himself than his opponent. His magic was barely more useful, since he was profoundly terrible at battle magic, and had the control of an avalanche when he used more than little flickers of power here and there.

He could hold a shield that would last until the end of time, but he couldn’t light a candle without blowing the roof off.

Yes, that one was experience talking. Shiriki still hadn’t let him live it down.

So his experience with assassins usually involved either dropping a shield on them until Shiriki could handle it, or yelling for a large number of guards. Sometimes both.

Eislynn Teague, it seemed, did not share his own inabilities.

Silent as a ghost, she slipped out of her chair, knives bared in her hands. Another barely-there rune glimmered on her ring, woken with a whisper. Siavyn didn’t know what it did, but Eislynn nodded to herself in satisfaction when it lit. Whatever it was, it seemed to be working.

When the door blasted inward and the would-be kidnappers flooded the room, she was ready.

The group charged past her without noticing the slightly darker shadow beside one of Siavyn’s bookshelves. Small wonder, if they were trying to take Siavyn alive this time. They would only get one shot at surprising him, and that one shot would be gone in moments.

Unfortunately, that one chance was already gone, thanks to the keen ears of Siavyn’s new friend. Siavyn himself ducked down behind the couch, an invisible shield already wrapped around him and warded to be undetectable form the outside. It saved him in he first seconds as a dozen silver-tipped darts shot through the air and bounced off harmlessly. Each one sported a fine glass body, filled with a green-glowing liquid. The drug, no doubt, meant to take him alive.

Two of the attackers died within a heartbeat of each other as Eislynn ghosted out of the shadows. Blood sprayed over Siavyn’s thick carpet as she slit the throat of the nearest woman and kept going to bury her other knife in the back of the man beside her. He screamed as she twisted the knife professionally, cutting through the artery that followed his spine. Before he could do more than scream, she shoved him to the side and dove for the side table where the shotgun waited. By the time she was on her feet again, the knives were tucked into her belt, and the gun was loaded and in her hands.

Disoriented by the sudden, unexpected attack, the rest of the group turned, magic and weapons bristling, but it wasn’t enough to save them.

The charm on Eislynn’s ring showed itself in her speed, and suddenly, finally, Siavyn could sense the magic she admitted to having. Magic that only woke when she pushed her muscles past the human limit.

In a blur, she aimed the shotgun and fired. The copper slug erupted from the end of the gun and took one of the mages clean in the chest. He flew backwards and was dead by the time he hit the ground. The second mage died moments later, before she could get her magic up to shield herself.

Guns were a rarity in the godly realms. It meant that few of the lesser spirits and beings knew how to defend against one, particularly one used with surgical precision.

The next man was too close for the shotgun and closing fast. Eislynn flipped one of the knives off her belt, and threw it hard. It buried itself to the hilt in his throat and he scrabbled at it uselessly.

Siavyn clenched his hands hard to try and steady himself. It was rare that he saw such violence, delivered with such calculated ability. Even Shiriki, who was a fine hand with his chosen weapon, would flinch at so much blood spilled so quickly.

The shotgun went off like a thunderclap again, and another of the quickly-dwindling attackers flew backwards, propelled by the slug in his chest.

Movement caught Siavyn’s eye and he realized almost too late what was about to happen.

“Look out!” he yelled uselessly to Eislynn, who turned, gun at the ready. She wasn’t going o be fast enough. Siavyn went for his own too-powerful, useless magic, but someone else was faster than he was.

Crystalline ribbons of magic, almost clear but for the glow of deep blue at their edges, snapped through the open door. They wrapped around the two remaining attackers and tightened brutally. There was a sickening crunch of breaking bone, and then the ribbons burst into hot, white flames that engulfed the two men instantly. Their ashes weren’t even smoldering by the time they drifted, white and powder-fine, to the blood-soaked carpet.

“I take my eyes off you for less than an hour and you get in a fight.”

It was Stara Teague, Eislynn’s sister. She stepped through the shattered door with Shiriki, who looked as rattled as Siavyn felt, on her heels. Eislynn laughed and knelt to reclaim the knife she had thrown, and to check the bodies. She needn’t have bothered. Siavyn could feel the life-energy fading off them into the ether.

“I wasn’t the target this time, although I guess technically I did start the fight,” Eislynn told her casually and eyed Shiriki. “Considering we just killed a bunch of guys to keep your boss safe, I assume we’re friends now?”

“Uh,” Shiriki said intelligently, and then tilted his head. The light caught his eyes and made them glow red for a moment. “Yeah, suppose so. Sio, you alive?”

“Not a drop of blood on me,” Siavyn said distantly and took a slow breath. He could taste bile at the back of his throat and tried not to look at the bodies. “Apparently Calogero wants me captured.”

“What for?”

“Nothing good, presumably.”

“Should have kept one of them alive,” Eislynn sighed and began to rummage through the pockets of one of the dead mages. “Stara’s got a decent truth spell that probably would have gotten us answers.”

“Too late now,” Stara told her mildly. Siavyn was gratified to see her wince away from the blood as well. “Want me to deal with the bodies?”

“Once I’m done searching them, yeah. Save someone the work of burning the carpet.”

“You just had to kill them with knives.”

“Knives are more reliable in close quarters when I have a package to protect.”

Siavyn was reasonably sure he was the package in question. He was not at all sure how he felt about being a package. Then again, Eislynn had kept him from getting drugged and kidnapped, so he supposed that grateful was appropriate, if somewhat ghoulish, considering all the blood.

There was rather a lot of blood.

He made it to the bathroom before he got sick, but it was a close thing. The scrape of boots on stone and the click of his bathroom door closing told him Shiriki was standing guard.

They would need to discuss this. Their new alliance, and Calogero’s changing plans. The attempted kidnapping.

But right now, he was going to be sick for a while, and mourn once again the life he lost when Tradition and Creativity went to war.

+++

Of Other Worlds:

Between Lives

Fortress of Sand

Revelare

Octuple Negative 

Tequila Trickster

Ghost Chess

Something Stupid

Gazebo Chase

Winner Plays Black (Subscriber Only!)

Five Cartridges (Subscriber Only!)

Seven Dead (New!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[diabolocracy]

The Big Fat Iniquitale AU Infodump Post (wherein I copy + paste every bit and bob of info I've written about it under one big disorganized post). With pictures! Matured*3 for a reason. If you're a kid and seeing this you lied about your age or some whackjob took screenshots and didn't mark those as mature so hey, not my fuckin' problem, innit?

CW: Dead dove and M*3 for a reason. Murder, abuse, mentions of implied rape, kidnapping, drugging, child murder, also I go into detail about at least one of the sci lab trio's genitalia lol

THE OVERVIEW

• Characters are based on songs. Probably not original. I do not care!

Since they're my main focus I only have WDG's and Sans' picked out. Namely,

LOVE LOVE NIGHTMARE - specifically this version - for whom is obvious. It even goes into the planned "ending" if you do enough mental gymnastics ("Everyone is just getting in our way. I will remove them all using Science. Oh, you do not like that? Then remove me." (Spoiler: he does.))

Qbomb's Crackershock for Sans whose pseudonym is Fuse. Don't yet have a cemented au-ified design for that guy--I need to finagle in the blues and teals.

I'm tempted to use this one for Frisk but they're not relevant until after The Catastrophe, which won't be a thing here or probably ever, lol.

But if I do persist long enough this song is totally Bunny-haunting/taunting/still obsessing over-Fuse after the fact and this one actually fits for confrontation purposes haha

I wanted to use this one for Alphys but it's just... Canon Alphys... lol

[ Bunny -> Fuse || "I can make him worse." ] He succeeds until he doesn't. [ Bunny -> Alphys || "I can make her the same as me." ] He doesn't succeed at all. Alphys doesn't follow in his footsteps to manipulate that fish she's craving. She doesn't graduate beyond stalker. (She does, however, become friends with her boss and his boyfriend. She knows the things that go on between them but she's smart enough to know not to try to interfere. Given her specialty in Monster physio/bio (she wants to become the Royal Physician one day - she is sure that her research into DT will gain her the position; she works at the lab as an assistant to be able to gain access to what she needs), she'll sometimes use her boss as a guinea pig to test out new cures or medical procedures. If he's gonna go and get himself hurt anyway... Why not?)

(fuse memo: normal white eyes, goes all crossed-out when angwy similar as to how WDG's go all heartsy; this'll probably be a thing in general)

This song works for a potential Chara-Bunny alliance I've been considering (and have since decided to go with): ○ Chara was murdered and eaten by the vulture-Royal Scientist while out and about with Asriel one horrible day. They tried many times to Reset and avoid this fate, but they failed each time. As it was ultimately a complete and utter shitshow, their Soul wasn't contained nor was it absorbed. They've haunted the Underground ever since. ○ Until they decided to meddle a 'little,' anyway; in a failed timeline, Bunny was on the precipice of dying courtesy of fucking with Fuse a little too much. Chara decided to lend a hand, merging very posthumously with him after striking up some sort of deal, granting him the ability to Reset and Remember. ○ Chara's end goal is [???]. Bunny's end goal is the perfect "happily Forever after." ○ This is probably how Bunny managed to break the level cap. Additionally, the False Window likely shows Chara's stats prior to their demise. (They were rather a frail human.) ○ This of course means that Asriel is still alive and plagued with guilt over their adopted sibling's murder--and the current King of the Underground. Asgore and Toriel are still together and really old; they both inhabit the quaint Ruins home. ○ When Bunny inevitably does the thing that permakills him (more or less), Chara makes a deal with Fuse and gives him the same abilities they gave Bunny (Reset & Remember). He Resets. Of course, this doesn't bring Bunny back (not in whole) -- the Universe compensates. Alphys becomes the Royal Scientist in his stead. So on and so forth. ○ When Frisk falls, they are hostile. They have to contend with a monster that can Reset and Remember as well right off the bat, though. ○ Every Reset brings a little garbled void-twisted piece of Bunny back. ○ It's Fuse's own personal hell!

◘ As for Chara "Splatter(ed)" Dreemurr, they're a nice kid, really. A tad bit fucked up considering they've died horribly multiple times and spent who knows how along alone gradually burning out, but decent. Mischievous, playful, impish, kind of pixie-like. They were murdered, and this guy was about to be murdered, too; they need a host before they burn out completely, and this guy doesn't want to die; they can fix that by granting him the ability to Reset and Remember (which is the best they can do at this point), which also grants them a host which means they won't eventually disappear for good… And they're curious! Can he ultimately escape Death's clutches, or will he fail, too?

◘ Not wanting to ultimately burn out is also why they make the same deal with Fuse when Bunny inevitably ends up 'dead for good.'

◘ They're avoiding Asriel for their own reasons - namely, they don't want to like, torture the poor guy by making him remember them, or something.

◘ Chara's name is rarely, if ever uttered in the Underground. Asriel gets very upset when he hears their name and remembers the day they were murdered right in front of him while all he could do was scream and cry.

• This AU is, shamelessly, a dumping place for my kinks. This is self-explanatory 😪 but not relevant because he doesn't want you.

• For the sake of interaction WDG's probably created some app that lets him connect to the multiversal internet or make portals or something loll I dunno 😪 this whole shindig is a work in progress baybee.

• If his Sans were to fall before his time this crazy idiot would inject them both with DT to form an amalgamate. No dying. Only staying together. Forever. :)

• He saw this lovely assistant of his punch out a monitor during work hours because of infuriating technical difficulties or something of the sort and thought to himself, I bet that I could make that guy worse. (And he succeeds! Post-Catastrophe, Fuse/Sans fares much better in handling his issues because he doesn't have this influence in his life anymore (...more or less).)

• Instead of Gaster Blasters, given his boyfriend's penchant for punching things Bunny instead made Gloves.

• The Royal Scientist from a little before the Barrier's erection had a taste for Human meat - especially after it had been left out for a while. Vultures, y'know...? Anyway, when the Monsters were trapped Underground, her first order of business was to try and create a substitute. This ended up with Waterfall having to be renamed The Meat Cavern from the strange fungus she cultivated. The entire Underground is now a red haze of spores that smell sickly-sweet - thankfully the fungus itself can only actually grow in the former Waterfall, but it has begun adapting to grow in New Home. New Home residents are advised to burn it if they find it there. Isn't Science wonderful?

• Bunny's mother was a Boss Monster with several concubines. She wanted him to follow in her foot-steps, hinting that he had taken after her in typing, but some time in his teens she met an unfortunate 'accident.' Bunny was taken in by the current Royal Scientist, who was much more successful in shaping his future. (And who also met an unfortunate 'accident.')

Fig. Nya Fuse

• The Resort is run by BP: Bartholome(o)w Pickles (otherwise known in Classic as Burgerpants). It's a family-friendly joint by day and a sleazy strip joint by night, complete with escorts and the weekly comedy night.

• Alphys is Hot Goth GF but too awkward to land that fish on her lonesome (or with Bunny's "help"). Her goal is to become the Royal Physician, and she hopes her research into DT will land her that position. Her side project features Mettaton, magibiosci, and meaty fungal limbs meticulously grown from altered samples of the Meat Cavern fungus infesting former Waterfall. Yeah, she has read Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and she's a bit obsessed. (Meanwhile, Bunny is the one low-key into the animays.)

(Further Alphys notes:

Friend is encouraging me with ideas as to how to make the AUwufied Alphys more of a little freak than I was planning and honestly. Yeah. Fuck it we ball. Increasing the canon creepiness factor (look, she has cameras everywhere, and you think she only uses them to watch out for humans? Never mind the fact that humans have to do, you know, human things, and she's a scientist) to 100.

Bunny 100% helps her abduct and fuck Undyne at least once in some timeline or another. Well, he doesn't partake of the fucking, of course, but he helps her with everything else just to if she'll actually do it.

She also uses her magibiosci knowledge to make strap-ons out of fungi and other modified materials that provide sensation to the wearer as if they actually had a dick. And dildos, too, of course! Want one that creates its own lube? Cum? Ovipositor eggs? One that's edible? A special scent or flavor or unique cum type? She's your gal! It's a side-gig for extra funding.)

Fig. Nyo! Alphys.

THE SCI LAB TRIO

WINGDINGS "BUNNY" GASTER

Unhinged yandere that uses his partner’s angry violent outbursts against him to keep him right where he wants the guy. He pretends to be a weak, defenseless, vulnerable nerd - however, he could dust his boyfriend in the blink of an eye if he really wanted to. He won’t really defend himself in dire moments because he doesn’t want to risk it, though.

He will dust anyone who thinks of getting between them, of course (in secret, obviously! that lab tech just met an unfortunate accident! it happens! science is dangerous!).

He gains EXP via pain, to put it bluntly. He uses his boyfriend as an exp farm and will only allow his boyfriend to cause him any harm. He will try to annihilate anyone else who tries.

Through the powers of Science he has broken the level cap. His stats are as follows:

LV 666 HP 666666 AT 66666 DF 66666 – basically the datamined stats for ‘classic’ Gaster. He has created a false stats window for when he is checked. It displays the following, LV 1 HP 10 AT 3 DF 3 –but there are those out there who will inevitably be able to see that it’s false, or to see through it entirely. That’s fine! He doesn’t care! No one in his world can see it, and that’s all that matters.

He has zero qualms about using his status as royal scientist to get what he wants (though he usually uses this in favor of his boyfriend).

Essentially, he is all-around not a nice or sane guy despite giving off that totally inno uwu ball of cheer!! vibe.

Physical Attributes

He is exactly six feet tall when he isn’t wearing heeled shoes or boots and his body shape is lithe with flared hips.

The black spots on his hands are just that–spots. He has them on his feet, too, and in a couple of other places upon his body. If they appear on one side of something, they will appear on its other side as well.

The ‘scars’ on his face are similar - they are all birthmarks.

His face functions similar to Hexadecimal’s (ReBoot) - in order to change expressions there has to be a moment of obfuscation, be it looking away or waving a hand across it or any other sort. The dots of his eyes, however, move freely about.

His pupils are usually normal bog standard white dots unless he’s seriously pissed off and trying to kill someone for realsies. He will throw hands - he can summon as many as he wishes. He mainly uses them to assist in his lab work, but they’re just as easily used to rip some bitch apart.

Lewd Attributes

He has both sets of genitalia and neither are one-hundred percent humanlike.

His cock is a one foot long tentacle-like organ that tapers off to a soft point. As it’s more often than not hidden away in a slit, it’s always well-lubricated. Testes are internal.

His vaginal opening is housed in the same slit, just below the hole housing his phallus. It has markedly less structure to it than a human vagina.

All intimate “flesh” - inasmuch as a monster can have “flesh” - is a deep, dark purple, nearly indistinguishably black.

He has the ability to impregnate and conceive; however, he takes fertility suppressants. Anyone who messes with them runs the risk of getting dusted - unless, of course, it’s his boyfriend. But he’d rather the guy come talk to him if he wants children, y'know?

Despite everything, he is still a virgin.

Bunny is a complete and utter masochist. He will never tell his boyfriend this because he loves the guilty look on the guy’s face after a “session” (also see: after pushing the guy’s buttons ‘til he explodes) or an experiment wherein he basically forces his poor lover to hurt him “for Science.”

However, again, he will only accept such treatment from his boyfriend. Anyone else runs the extreme risk of attempted murder with themselves as the victim.

ALPHYS, PEN NAME 'SHEL'

The magibio limb of the Sci Lab Trio and its medical expert vying for the position of Royal Physician, Alphys – much to her chagrin – is the one that has to patch the two idiots up whenever they get scrappy or perform an experiment in such a way as to eschew every single rule of laboratory safety. Fortunately, she is very, very good at it.

She is, however, not above using her boss for her more experimental procedures and cures. As of yet she has not subjected him to her DT research, but it’s always tempting…

There was a time when she confused the hell out of her boss by signing some of her research papers (those relating to DT and the use of genetically altered fungi as limb replacements or whole bodies for ghost monsters) as Shel after reading some human book she found at the dump (“Frank and Stine” or something of the sort). The confusion has since been cleared up and she continues to do this as a means to differentiate between her research and collabs or things assigned for her to do a write-up on.

She has a side-gig creating sex toys out of the same genetically altered fungus that she uses in her research and experiments. Do you want a strap-on the magically interfaces with your body and lets you feel like you actually have a dick while you plow your lover into oblivion? She’s your gal. Want something made with a specific scent or “cum” (that regenerates over time if you stick it in a bowl and feed it a specialized formula) taste? You can probably find her phone number scribbled somewhere on the wall at the back of the bar. Ovipositor that creates its own harmless – and even edible – eggs? Hit up this pangolin pronto.

She doesn’t just do strap-ons. Dildos are fair game, too, obviously, with much the same options.

Funds go to funding her research… And wardrobe!

Her LV is unknown and she likes to keep it that way.

Post-Bunny and Surface Era info pending.

COMIC "FUSE" SANS SERIF

The hot-headed machinist of the Sci Lab Trio. Clocking in at exactly four feet even when he isn’t wearing his boots (they add a little less than an inch), this guy pretty much lives up to his pun of a pet name–even though he either has yet to realize it, or has already since vented his frustrations about it.

He has a terrible handle upon his temperament. Resorting to violence isn’t unheard of. He’s the scourge of unruly computational devices everywhere. Fortunately he knows how to fix most of the things his anger issues drive him to break.

For those he can’t fix, there’s always Alphys.

His LV is 8, though he doesn’t like admitting to it. Achieving that level of violence wasn’t on purpose. Some people just have a habit of not knowing when to shut up.

On Friday evenings he has a side-gig at BP’s Resort. His comedy routines are rife with gallows humor and generally dark jokes. With that said, however, he is a Sans at heart – he will not pass up on a terrible pun.

His other side-gig involves tuning up and otherwise improving upon other monster’s rides. What, you think there aren’t alternative means of transportation? The Underground cave systems are spacious enough for motorized bikes and those fancy doohickeys with the claws that scale the cave walls like spiders.

POST-BUNNY After the inevitable occurs, Chara jumps ship and offers Fuse the same deal they offered Bunny. He, of course, accepts, and proceeds to Reset to the point they last saved – except Bunny no longer exists so things are a little different. Rather than coming-to in the lab with his fist through one of the monitor screens he comes-to at one of the snowy region’s outposts. It’s about a year before Frisk falls. In the meantime, Fuse adjusts to sharing his existence with a playful human ghost (who has a lot of horrible stories about all the timelines where Bunny f***ed up) whilst also adjusting to all the changes that he’s unfamiliar with. His brother proves to be a positive influence on his temperament; unlike Bunny, who encouraged and enabled all of his negative traits, Papyrus, alias pending, encouraged and enabled the more positive ones. When Frisk does fall, they’re immediately hostile. However, they have to contend with a monster who isn’t going to put up with their bullshit as soon as they leave the Ruins, who can Reset and learn from past timelines. The problem, of course, is that Chara’s Save Point is about a year before Frisk falls. Every time Fuse Resets they have to wait another year-or-so before Frisk falls again. Fortunately they can also Remember whenever Frisk Resets. It’s still a big jumbled mess, compounded by the fact that each Reset brings a little piece of Bunny back extremely wrongly so even when Fuse sets them back a year, after some time, it offers little reprieve: his ex eventually pieces himself back together enough to “return” as a creepy abomination of his former self. Somehow, some way still left unfigured out, the Barrier is still eventually destroyed; Frisk, Chara, and Bunny all die (again) or get erased (again) in the process. SURFACE ERA Due to absolutely no legitimate businesses feeling up to hiring a guy who is actually qualified for several things but lacks “proper certification,” he ends up working at a chop-shop and rubbing elbows with the criminal underbelly of the city. He quickly becomes very good at carjacking. His brother doesn’t agree with his life choices, of course. On more than one occasion Paps ends up having to bail him out of jail. Fuse always makes sure to pay him back with interest, of course. Occasionally Fuse runs a stand selling rather obscene but also kind'a cute food creations at the behest of his brother who keeps trying to push him towards legal means of making money. Unfortunately he does not have a food handling license and humans are way too easily scandalized. He keeps in touch with Alphys–in this last timeline they were work colleagues. She often drags him out to classy and cute cafes when her fish woman’s too busy to go with her.

GASTER GLOVES

better design pending

'Gaster Gloves' edition #1 but I'll probably be too lazy to revise. They enhance the wielder's natural strength 10* exponentially. While they're also capable of firing beams from their mouths like Blasters, it's a less powerful auxiliary function that can also be used to maneuver -- think rocket jumping from TF2. It requires a surface and comes with the potential of causing damage to the user if the distance between user and surface is lacking.

Ｌｉｖｉｎｇ Ｄｏｌｌ subspecies info

Assumed in the past by Humans to be cursed or haunted objects, and otherwise assumed to be a type of Ghost Monster, "Living Dolls" are not at all undead and can be better likened to snails or molluscs. Their external body is not the true Monster, but a protective house that grows around them. As such, their "skin" is hard to the touch, and their natural DEF tends to be rather high.

Extracting the Monster from its shell is a surefire way to kill it, and it is very much a one-way process in that there is no way to put them back in in a way that will save them. They can survive for a time if the extraction process is not "too" physically traumatic, but becoming dust is inevitable.

Every "shell" is different. Some are more or less humanoid; some have and some lack detachable parts.

In Bunny's case, he lacks a "true" face. Each "face" is a magically created mask, of which he has many in reserve for a variety of expressions, but getting stuck on one that doesn't match the situation at all happens often. A moment of obfuscation is required to change expressions lest the nature of this physical quirk (and exploitable weak spot) become noticeable to anyone with keen observational skills.

It is possible to forcibly remove his "face," but it is highly inadvisable as it is a surefire way to make an enemy out of a mad scientist.

The black spots on his external shell are also weak points. They're places where his internal body isn't covered by the shell, and as such, they're soft to the touch.

ART DUMP

^ first time doodling these nerds

Playing around with Papyrus, who will probably be some sort of halloweenie raver.

First attempt at "Bunny but he came back wrong" -- when a bitch doesn't have enough data to put their face back on...

I don't have any good images of the current iteration (drippier, meltier) but I do have this - his presence comes parceled with noises that sound like the beginning of this song. Flashing image warning from the get-go.

[surebabyholdback]

The first time you died, and they brought you back, I remember visiting you in the ICU, just me and mom.

You were still trying to wake up from all the drugs and anesthesia, but you kept stirring and talking a little, so mom told me to play some music on my phone for you. I went to your playlist I had made and I was at a loss, so I asked her what I should play.

���I don’t know,” she said, “play our song.”

So I put on “High Enough” by Damn Yankees and she started singing to you.

I don't want to hear about it anymore. It's a shame I've got to live without you anymore. There's a fire in my heart, a pounding in my brain it's driving me crazy.

We don't need to talk about it anymore. Yesterday's just a memory, can we close the door? I just made one mistake, I didn't know what to say when you called me “baby.”

Don't say goodnight, say you're gonna stay forever, oh-whoa, all the way. Can you take me high enough? To fly me over (fly me over) yesterday? Can you take me high enough? It's never over. And yesterday is just a memory. Yesterday is just a memory.

And I don't want to live without you anymore. Can't you see I'm in misery? And you know for sure I would live and die for you and I'd know just what to do when you call me "baby."

As she sang the lyrics over you and stroked your hand, you stirred but you never opened your eyes. I started to get choked up, and as the song was about to end I asked mom, “What next? Maybe something not so depressing?”

She told me to play one of your favorites, “Whipping Post,” by the Allman Brothers.

As the guitars started chugging and the keys joined in, you started moving your feet back and forth to the beat. I sang us through the first verse, sniffling and wiping away tears. Then we got to the chorus, you opened your eyes and ever so softly sang -

Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel, like I've been tied to the whippin' post, tied to the whippin' post, tied to the whippin' post. Good Lord, I feel like I'm dyin'.

As you said the last line, I looked right at mom and burst out laughing. The lyrics were hitting a little too close to home. I think if I didn’t laugh, I would have sobbed.

“You sure know how to pick the songs today, huh?” I told her, looking back down at you. You had already gone back to sleep. I was just thankful there was still some of you left in there.

Later on, we found out there really was no hope. There wasn’t enough time for a transplant. Mom was so hurt, “Why would they bring him back if they knew he was still just going to die, again?”

They said it was to give us more time.

“More time for what? More time to suffer?” Mom cried.

I didn’t really know what to say. I could tell she felt the same way I did, grateful you were alive but guilty because we knew you were hurting. We were hurting too, seeing you this way every day.

I knew at that moment that I had to cherish whatever time I had left. And I did. When you were in your right mind I would talk to you about our favorite Skynyrd songs and ask you questions about when you were young and you worked as a casino dealer. Picked up dove bars and pop so you could have a snack while we watched Jeopardy. When you weren’t I would play you music or just talk to you, hoping I was reaching you somewhere in there.

But no matter how much “extra” time you get, it’s never enough. There are still so many things neither of us got to say, or do together. Things we both wish we could change. So now I just talk out loud to you, or on here, or whatever feels right at the time. It never feels as right as actually talking to you did.

Good Lord, I feel like I’m dyin’.

[womenpleasedateme]

Okay so recently I’ve been OBSESSED with mandela catalog..(mainly Gabriel.) So I decided to write him!!!

Honestly Dating Gabriel has a LOT of pros. One, he is a built in body guard basically. Two, he does EVERYTHING for you. And when I mean everything I mean everything. You want a glass of water? He will get it? You want to go to the kitchen? He will carry you! You want to take a nap? Hes already making your bed to make it all comfy for you.

He absolutely loves you. EVERYTHING about you. He loves your personality. He loves your body. He loves your face. He loves the way you act. He loves your hobby’s. He’s absolutely obsessed with you.

You’ll find out pretty quickly how overprotective Gabriel is though. He gets mad really easily when someone is around you. REALLY easily. It usually ends up with him killing the person..

He loves to hold you. That’s his #1 thing to do in the world. Just to softly caress you and wrap you in his wings is the warmest feeling he could ever experience. Once he starts holding you though don’t except him to let go anytime soon.

He always observes the little things about you and finds them absolutely adorable. No matter what they are he finds them to be the cutest thing in the world. He acts like how humans act when they see a super cute puppy or a cat.

He will randomly come up to you and just start praising you. Saying how wonderful you are, how pretty you are, how adorable you are, all of it. He loves seeing you blush when he does.

Speaking of seeing you blush..he loves flirting with you. Just to see your flustered expression is enough to make his whole month. Sometimes he does go a bit overboard on the flirting until you literally are as red as a tomato.

He uses a lot of pet names. Such as, my dear, dove, darling, love, dearest, stuff like that.

He is the number one person to talk to when you are sad. When you need a shoulder to cry on, he’s there. He will gently hold you close and rub circles on your back as you cry to him. But say someone is the reason you’re sad..they won’t get out alive. He likes to give the people that hurt you a..slow death to put it short.

God I love Gabriel SM..

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Supernatural Masterlist

Here’s every pieces I wrote about Dean Winchester

DO NOT REPOST ANY OF MY WRITING. NEVER. NOT TODAY. NOT TOMORROW. NEVER.

NSFW = 18+ ;)

If you wanna be added to the taglist, just drop an ask or comment!

Hard to Love

Summary: After a particularly intense fight with Dean last night, you wake up with no one but a letter next to you in the bed. You’re sure your boyfriend wants to break up with you, until you find a poem hidden in his hunter’s journal… or is it a song?

–

The First Time (NSFW)

Summary: It’s been months since I started dating Dean after he saved me from a werewolf. I now live with the brothers in the big bunker. Months and I still haven’t done anything with him except kisses and soft bites. I know he’s the one, and even if he really desires it, Dean is exceptionally patient. Because he too wants my first time to be perfect. But sometimes perfect doesn’t mean planned…

–

Hot Blooded (NSFW implied)

Summary: They met at a club. Things get heated. She’s shy and he’s a bit high. But mostly, he’s hot blooded and she craves him.

–

When I’m Gone (Dark/ NSFW) (Mini-series)

Summary: When Zachariah sends Dean in the future to show him what’ll happen if he keeps saying no, the annoying angel also sends you. Because that asshole is certain you can convince your boyfriend to become Michael’s meat suit. But when that doesn’t work, Zachariah leaves you in the future, putting pressure again on Dean to say yes, or else, he’ll never see you again. But in 2014, there is no future version of you because you died years ago. And 2014 Dean doesn’t want to let you go.

–

It All Fell Down

Summary: You won’t leave Charlie alone in that motel room. You won’t let her get hurt. If they want to touch her, they’re gonna have to go through you.

–

Pads, Paws & Claws // Part 2 (NSFW)

Summary: It happened once, but now they have to do it again. The only witness of a murder being the family pet, the super potion that allows people to communicate with animals has to be used. However, this time, Dean ain’t connected to a dog. And no one was prepared for the attitude coming with being linked to a cat.

–

Dove In A Cage (Dark!Fic) (Drabble)

Summary: You’re trapped like a dove in a cage. And then, there’s a man by the door.

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Adrenaline Momentum (Crossover) (NSFW)

Summary: Once in a while, Eddie needs some time without Venom for his body to recover a little bit. When this happens, he calls his good friend Dean Winchester who takes the symbiote for a couple of days. Venom has nothing against it since he likes the hunter and he can eat as many monsters as he wants, but this time, it’s different, because you’re there. Dean tries to keep the symbiote a secret, but Venom has other plans. He wants to know why Dean’s mind turns so dirty whenever you’re around, and he will get answers.

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Anchor

Summary: When Sam gets badly hurt during a hunt, Dean freezes and gets a panic attack. After making sure Sam is alright, Y/n has to take care of Dean. Turns out, all he needs is an anchor.

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Still Staring Sweetheart (NFSW)

Summary: It’s Halloween, the perfect opportunity for Dean to wear the cowboy outfit he brought back from 1861 for trick or treating. And the perfect opportunity for you to stare discreetly. Only, you’re bad at staying discreet, especially when Dean starts talking about… Pancakes?

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Sweet Cookies 

Summary: Sam makes cookies for Christmas. Lots of cookies. Dean wonders, are they all for Santa? Turns out Sam planned a christmas party with all of their friends.

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Minty Candy Kinky (NSFW)

Summary: You don’t like candy cane’s taste, but you still eat them. Why? How Dean looks at you when you suck the candy is totally worth it.

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The Drug in Me is You (NSFW) (Dubcon) 

Summary: There are still Azazel’s kids alive, other than Sam. And when Dean went to hell, Sam got helped by one. Without her, he wouldn’t be there anymore. Her name is Y/n. Sweet, little Y/n that trusted Sam. Sweet little Y/n that Sam got addicted to demon’s blood. And now Dean is a demon and he has a lot of plans for her.

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Already Cursed (MOC!Dean)

Summary: When a hunt turns out to be a trap, you get caught by demons and Dean gets tortured for information about the mark of Cain. They pierce his flesh the moment they push him on the table, but the mark is strong. It makes Dean stronger and more angry. The mark is craving violence. And quickly, Dean’s screams turn into laughter.

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Shining, Beaming, Will You Marry Me?

Summary: It’s Christmas and everyone is there to celebrate. The day is beautiful, but Dean just wants to make the night even more special.

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Sexy Rules (NSFW)

Summary: Dean likes rules. Sexy rules. He won’t ever say it aloud, but he likes to be the bottom. To be under your touch and your orders. To be completely submissive. But you know that already. Dean just needs a little push in the right direction.

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The Night We Met 

Summary: Years ago, Dean got hit by a memory spell. Ever since, even if Rowena fixed him, he gets weird absences; he suddenly forgets who he is and always runs away. There’s only one place he can go, one place he feels safe. To the night you met.

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Roses Are Red...

Summary: Dean always tries his pick up lines on you before using them on girls he’s interested in. To be sure they work and because your reactions are worth it. Funny, kinky or sweet, his words quickly get to you, and before you know it, you’re falling for him and his bad pick up lines. But it starts to get too much, it hurts to see the man you love with other prettier girls. But what if the person he wanted all along was there from the start?

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Isn’t it Lovely, All Alone? (NSFW)

Summary: Friends with benefits. Pretty self explanatory, right? Friends. But with some benefits. Friends, sex, but no feelings. Just two people losing themselves in each other’s flesh, becoming, for the time of a heartbeat, one. But with Dean, it’s more than that. It’s everything. The day he fights Dick Roman is the last day you see him. Sam doesn’t care, but you won’t abandon him. And you’re ready to do everything to bring him back.

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To Build A Home

Summary: A home is not a place, not always. A home is where you feel safe. A home can be a person, it can be a car. Dean thinks he shot a hole in every single thing that he loved. But you’re there to remind him everything that is still there, including his home.

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His Perfect Doll (Michael!Dean)(NSFW)(Dark)

Summary: She’s a doll. Her only duty is to be perfect for him at all times. A doll doesn’t talk. Doesn’t express feelings. It exists, simply. So when, one day, the doll wants to show how much she loves him and puts on some lingerie, neither she or him expect the effect it would have on him. And how it would make him and the man he keeps locked in his head… Snap.

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The Lucky Shirt

Summary: You were sure you had the right bag. But turns out, when you walked head first into a wall of perfection, you swapped laundry bags with him by mistake. Now, you’re stuck with only his clothes to wear and not much time to find him again before the presentation that could change your life.

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Messy Eating (NSFW)

Summary: Dean’s messy. Whenever he eats, it always falls everywhere on the table, on his chin, on his fingers… It was all fine, until it wasn't. Until that hunt with only you and him. Until jealousy and anger mixed with pie and sexual tension.

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Books? I Love Books! (NSFW)

Summary: Dean wants your attention, and to get it, he decides to read your book out loud. It’s all cute until the story gets more… Spicy.

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Dirty, Dirty Little Secret (Michael!Dean x Crowley)(NSFW)(Dark)

Summary: Crowley has lots secrets. He’s still alive and hiding, for example. But his dirty, dirty little secret is much darker than this. He thought no one knew, but then, he found him. His former friend, now possessed by an archangel. And Michael has a deal Crowley cannot refuse.

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A Rose for the Snake (NSFW)(Series)

Summary: Since he discovered the club, Dean’s been going at least once a week. Being a dom is something nice, it makes him feel powerful and in control. But is it really what he likes? Or is it the domme assigned to teach him the basics that tells him what to do?

Is there a rose hidden somewhere under the scales?

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The Time of A Coffee (NSFW)

Summary: It’s only you and Dean for the hunt. Sharing a motel room is not the best, but it’s a must, so you sleep in the same room as Dean for the first time. But Dean is a man of routine, and he cannot function without his coffee. Fed up with how long it takes him, you act like a brat to piss him off, only… Dean has no patience in the morning. Especially when you walk naked in front of him.

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Unforgettable (NSFW)

Summary: When Dean finds a strap-on in your stuff, the first thought that comes to his mind is not how he could fill both your holes at once. Or that you were down for a third person to join for a little fun. No, the first thought Dean had was how would it feel to be fucked by you.

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The Deal (NSFW) (Dean X Benny)

Summary: Since they were stuck in Purgatory together, they had a deal and that deal was simple. Daylight was for survival, fights, and finding Cas. Night time was for what they craved the most. For Benny, it was his blood. And for Dean, it was something he could never tell anyone.

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One Day, I’ll Say Hello

Summary: It keeps happening. Whenever he goes, Dean seems to bump into the same girl. Every time, he finds himself unable to speak to her. When he meets her again at the beach, everything finally makes sense.

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Heartbeat Thump (NSFW)

Summary: One day, you stubble on Dean watching hentai. It’s no big deal, until it happens again. And again. After a while, you start getting jealous of those cartoon girls he likes to watch so much. Why are they so special? What do they have more than you to have his full attention?

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Dangerous Attraction (NSFW)(Dark)

Summary: She was perfect. No strings attached, only names were shared, and she gave him the best time in bed. But sometimes, when someone is too perfect, it’s because they hide something. And unfortunately, it was already too late for Dean.

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Crazy, Stupid, Love

Summary: When Dean has to work at a café to learn infos on a hunt, he thinks it's the worst. Until he meets her. At first, she's only kind of an annoying coworker. But an unfortunate event brings them closer, and Dean starts feeling things for her. If it's love, he doesn't know. But for the first time, he starts wondering how it would feel to have a normal life. A normal job. And a normal relationship. But first, he needs to get her revenge against that shitty boss.

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The Most Innocent Sinner (NSFW)

Summary: For everyone, she's the shy, pure, little Y/n. Dating Dean Winchester is like going on dates with the complete opposite of her. So it is a very nice surprise when Dean learns how kinky she actually is by finding her collection of sex toys.

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The Dress (NSFW) Coming soon

Summary: When you go shopping with your boyfriend, you try a certain dress and show him. But Dean loves that dress a bit too much and things get heated in the fitting room…

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Just a Wolfish Thought #11 (?)

I truly don’t know what it is, but I’m crushing major time on Tom Hardy yet again. So, it got me thinking (as well as the tattoo I’m about to get done) about this.

A big, burly and kinda gruff older tattooed wolf who runs a bakery in Camden or Hammersmith.🖤🐺

Maybe (and here’s where we’re getting kinda Taboo) he’s your dad’s best friend?

- He’s basically seen you grow up, but started to drop by more often as you got older.

- Though he knows very well why, he tries to keep his feelings under control.

- But as soon as you call him ‘Wolfy’, the nickname that you gave him when you were a child, he goes absolutely feral or melts into a puddle. It kinda depends on the situation.

- Runs a bakery in Hammersmith or Camden (or both, if he’s branched out) where you like to sit down with a cup of coffee or tea.

- Drinks and food are always on the house.

- ON THE CONDITION he gets to sit down with you for a little while…

- And have lunch together at least once a week…

- And he gets to pick you up from work… after every shift. “Because London isn’t a place for a woman to walk alone at night.”

- … and you come work for or, rather, with him instead.

- Totally not a demanding one, he is. Not at all!😅

- Takes days off during his rut, afraid of what he’ll do to you. Only when the worst of it has passed will he return to work.

- Drinks to suppress, nay, forget his feelings.

- Especially when in rut.

- The first kiss happens when he’s drunk on rum, stupidly dragging his ossified arse to your doorstep.

- It’s kinda awkward with him clumsily pressing his lips on yours, his big, rough hands on your waist to keep himself steady.

- Luckily, your dad only comes to check out the ruckus by the front door after you’ve pushed him off of you, one hand on his chest to maintain some distance between you.

- Right over his heart.

- He sleeps in the guest room that night, escorted there by your father.

- In the morning, he claims he remembers nothing about what happened. Nevertheless, the grimace that appears as soon as it vanishes does not pass by unnoticed. It’s a tell-tale sign he’s lying.

- A lie you keep alive by going along, hurting him by the cold tone in your voice yet knowing it’s to protect you both.

- Loves it when you scratch his beard, especially when you’re cuddling.

- Speaking of which, he’s a pro at cuddling. However, he won’t easily admit it or that he likes it at all.

- Despite the first hug being awkward, he loves to wrap you up in his arms.

- Secret dates galore, ranging from bookshop hopping to daytrips. He’ll even plan a mini holiday so you can hike somewhere up north like the Lake District or even the Highlands.

- Taught you how to bake.

- And your smile when you managed to produce a proper loaf of bread will never cease to make him smile too.

- Neither will the flustered look on your face when he tells you you’re pretty.

- Keeps a close eye on male customers and isn’t afraid to jump into action if one of them bothers you.

- Sometimes he acts a bit too preventively, merely going by what he perceives as “a funny look” or tone.

- The only thing that’ll calm him down is your touch and voice compelling him think rationally and control his breathing.

- (Pro tip: scratch his beard, it’s the most efficient way to lower the ante)

- Teaches boxing lessons to other werewolves, mostly freshly turned, to keep their feral nature under control.

- Takes you with him whenever he gets a new tattoo or a touch-up. If the artist allows it, of course.

- Though he doesn’t care about that when he gets a little dove done on his thumb. Why there and why a dove?

- You’re his little dove and you used to hold his thumb when you were small.

- You still do.

[jellidile]

Guilt

Soooo, I just discovered @cirilee and their shattered glass AU has me bug-eyed and has my cogs turning!!! 

Starscream has always been my favourite character, and in this post, they drew My two other favourite characters, Skywarp and Thundercracker, who are so often forgotten and missing from everything (pain) ;u;

Anyways, I wrote this short little piece based off the linked post and sobs :)) (also Cirilee if you’re reading this I hope I got Starscream mostly down, I’m still binging all your SG stuff, But god it is good.)

Why did he have to be the last? 

Skywarp had always been more of a charmer, and Thundercracker had the most natural smile (Even when he was faking). His brothers had been more well-rounded than he at every given moment, Skywarp could play the Harp even though he hated the lessons, and Thundercracker though shy, had a deep low voice that reverberated through the halls. Either of them, or both of them as they never strayed far from each other, would’ve been better suited to the task of forced propaganda.

But of course, Starscream knew why he had been spared… Because he was important to Megatron. He was a gilded bargaining chip, a bird forced to sing. He barely even recognized his own name anymore,

“Dove!”

“Bring me my Dove.”

“Look at him… Just a harmless Dove, nothing more.”

Dove. That’s all they ever called him anymore. From a Prince to being reduced to a pathetic prisoner, clinging to a stuffed toy that made him remember what it was like to be warm. Unlike the ever cold and callous hands of prime. Who’s eyes betrayed his every emotion through the smiles.

Starscream was passed around like an old rag, eventually he just stopped remembering who he’d met. They all blurred together, even the kindest of his handlers could still be considered cruel. But this was not altogether a bad thing, because of his diminished outlook on life they began to assume he was nothing more than a hollow shell. Which allowed for a long buried part of Starscream to boil.

He’d always been a bit cunning. His brothers were always careful asking him for favours because of how he could twist their words should he be feeling petty. He liked making plans, he liked being organized, and he liked twisting things ever so slightly. All he had to do was look innocent and most would never know that he’d influenced them. Sometimes he didn’t even know he was. Dove, Starscream, he, found it a very easy way to avoid getting hurt. 

Skywarp was argumentative, he would’ve talked back too much and been hurt so much more. Thundercracker had an iron will, breaking him would’ve killed him. Both of his brothers would’ve gone through twice the amount of pain he had already gone through, and he felt as though he couldn’t take it. His brothers would’ve been worse off being alive. So even though it hurt him to think it, Starscream was glad his brothers were dead. 

Because at least they didn’t have to live through this.