#up in there because the group she was in abandoned her - kinda pile driving in the realization that 'fixing from the inside' was bs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingsbychlo · 4 years

Text

smoke and fire (02)

word count; 10,121

summary; after getting out to a rough call with newt, resulting in some unpleasant injuries, thomas jumps to a few conclusions.

notes; i don’t have anything to say here.

warnings; reference to violence, reference to gang activity, reference to injury.

“Can I have a cookie?” You motioned to the plate before you, and Fry never looked up from where he was working, nodding his head as he danced to the music in the kitchen, singing loudly to the song on the radio as he prepared everyone a lunch.

Picking up one of the biscuits, you smiled to yourself, before a hand was slapping on yours roughly, the biscuit falling to the floor, and you yelped, rubbing at the stinging skin of your hand as you looked up.

“Hey!” Brenda was cringing a little, seemingly feeling bad for her action, and you stared at the broken biscuit at your feet, before looking back to her. “What was that for?”

“They’re not real Oreos.” Your brows furrowed, looking at the pile once again as you picked up the abandoned one from the floor, walking around her to dump it in the bin, and she shrugged a little. “I filled them with toothpaste, to mess with Chuck. He always wants a snack after he finishes the chores, and Gally has him cleaning the bathroom.”

“So, why does he get messed up Oreos for that?” You questioned, following her to the couch as she grabbed her coffee and wandered away, and you settled in beside her.

“Because every candidate that comes through this house has to be pranked by everyone, it’s tradition. He won’t graduate until he has.”

You grinned, shaking your head fondly at those antics. “Okay, so what has everyone else done so far?”

A wicked look passed over her face, the room crowding with people and it seemed that everybody as gathering discreetly, seeming to know that there was going to be a prank going down. “Gally and Newt teamed up, they had Gally pretend to fall on a wet floor that he didn’t put a sign out on, and Newt faked the injury to be worse than it was. Poor kid freaked out.”

“Oh, that’s awful.” You bit at the inside of your cheek, trying to contain your laughter, and she shrugged.

“Thomas got a bag of dark brown dog hair from the groomers and tipped it over the shower door while Chuck was showering, he thought he was losing his hair, and he smelt like wet dog for days. He screamed like a little girl.” You laughed loudly at that one, unable to contain it, even if it was done by someone you hated because there was no denying that it was creative as hell. “Minho put slime in his locker, Frypan put bubble wrap in his boots right before a call, and he was popping with every step, hilarious. I don’t remember the rest.”

She waved a hand, sipping her coffee, and the room went quiet as an exhausted-looking Chuck entered the room, red cheeks from the exertion and sweating a little. The room went quiet, everybody’s gaze falling to Chuck discreetly as he crossed the room, and Fry kept singing.

“Oh, cool, Oreos. Can I have one?”

“Sure, kiddo.” Brenda piped up, and Chuck beamed, picking one up, bringing it t his mouth, before pulling it away, squinting slightly and frowning, and every breath in the room was held. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re kinda’ soft. Do you not know how to sore cookies?” He waited, before a smirk spread over his face. “Are these old? Like, really old? This is a prank, isn’t it?”

Her jaw dropped, and speechless for a moment as she fumbled for an excuse, and you cleared your throat. “They’re all good, I just had one. Probably just the steam from the kitchen.”

“Oh, okay.” He took you at your word, placing the whole cookie into his mouth and biting down, perfectly content for a moment, a few chews in, before his face was screwing up, and he was gagging, spitting the handful back out. “God damn it!”

The room broke out on raucous laughter, almost deafeningly so, and Brenda held her hand up to you, offering a high five for your contribution to the prank, coffee almost slopping over the edge of her mug form the ferocity with which she was cracking up in amusement.

“You all suck!” He spun around, fake anger in his tone as he grinned, pointing at you. “Especially you! I expected more!”

That only made everyone crack up a little more, and while it was still funny, it made you realise that he hadn't expected it form you, because you weren’t a real part of the team yet. You were still an outsider, you weren’t one who was expected to make pranks and join in with team activities, and your laughter dulled a tad. You weren’t angry or bitter about it, just a little disappointed at the flicker you found burning in your chest as you realised Newt had given you hope, and inspiration, his speech from only a week ago still tinging clearly in your mind, and you didn’t like that feeling, because getting connected to a team only made it that much harder when you were inevitably rejected.

He shook his hand off over the trash, a scowl on his face at the half-chewed snack that was scraped away, and Thomas came over, a smile larger than you’d ever seen him wear before, to lock his arm around the younger boy’s neck affectionately, knuckles ruffling his hair as he squirmed.

“Hey, Chuck, keep up this kind of morale and you’ll do great on squad.”

“Maybe he’ll choose to stay with truck!” Gally voiced, the room splitting wit amusement once again as an easy and lighthearted argument broke out, all in joked, about which team was better. Feeling a nudge on your thigh, you looked back to the woman facing you, her brows raised a little, sipping at her drink once again.

“What’s with the look on your face?”

“What do you mean?” You shifted to face her more fully, the crowds dissipating now the excitement was over, all going about their determined tasks, and she shrugged a little.

“You just have this look on your face. Like you’re happy but sad, nostalgic but bittersweet. You get it sometimes, when you’re looking at us all.” You sighed, not realising she was able to read you so well she was just like Newt, smart and intuitive, and you nibbled on your lower lip as you thought about your next words.

“It’s just nice to see you all like this. Happy and confident with each other, you’re a family.” You looked around, finding Newt, his attention focused on a conversation with Minho, and you remembered what he said, sighing a little as your mind was spinning and confused. “Maybe one day I’ll be part of that too, y’know?”

“You’re already a part of this family! You got a shirt with the logo on and everything.” You rolled your eyes at her joke, lips twisted into a gentle smile.

“No, I’m not.” She looked like she wanted or argue, but the look on your face silenced her, clearly not finished speaking. “I haven’t earned my way into this family, you don’t really know me, you don’t know if you want to welcome me yet. I’ll know when I am, if I deserve to be, I’ll know it.”

“You know, that's kind of poetic.” You scoffed at her claim, punching at her arm softly. “I think you’ll fit in perfectly, when that moment comes.”

You grinned, jaw dropping to thank her for her faith in you, before the alarm overhead was going off, and you were silenced, the room flailing to the same state, as you listened for what was happening. Only ambulance was called for, everybody else seeming t let out a sigh of relief, except for your friend across the room, who groaned loudly, before his chair was scraping across the floor as he stood.

“Up and at it, girly, let’s go!” He clapped his hands, and you struggled to unfold your legs to match his pace, his long strides already taking him to the door as you fumbled to follow him, his next words thrown over his shoulder; “I’ll start driving away without you if you don’t hurry up!”

“I’m coming, just wait!” You yelled, pushing through the doors as you grabbed your jacket, pulling the lightweight blue material up your arms, spinning around from backing out backwards, and crashing right into a solid wall. You groaned, stumbling a little, before a sneer was thrown in your direction.

“Watch where you’re going, would you?” The words were growled out lowly, Thomas stepping around you to continue on without waiting, and you huffed at his actions.

“It was clearly an accident!” He didn’t react, continuing to walk away from you, and your eyes were rolling before you could stop yourself. “Oh, get over yourself.”

He still didn’t reply, head held high, and that only irritated you more, as though you weren’t even worth his time, continuing towards the vehicle, engine already running from the second that your door slammed shut, Newt was putting the van into action. Strapping yourself in as he spun out of the firehouse courtyard.

Grabbing the monitor in front of you, the device was pinging with notifications, reading off every update that was coming in from the public and the police about what it was that the two of you were about to head into. It was a mess, you could tell straight from the off as reports continued to come in about what you were facing, skipping through it all to find details on what was actually calling you to the scene.

“Okay, we got a stab wound, it seems. A street fight, started between two guys, friends got involved, pedestrians got involved.”

“Probably some kind of gang activity.” Newt sighed, already seeming to prepare himself for the situation, and you weren’t unfamiliar with that kind of groups around this area, the rougher the neighbourhood got, the more vicious the groups became, and it certainly wasn’t a surprise as you began to pull through the harder-going roads.

There were blue lights flashing through the air before you’d even pulled up, crowds in the street, and Newt hit the brakes as he avoided hitting anybody, fighting to get through the scene. “What the fuck?”

The streets were blocked, you couldn’t even see the centre of the commotion yet, and a set of police officers came fighting through the crowds to find you. “I guess the fight spilled into the street, and cars got blocked.”

The second your window was rolled down, the noise became unimaginably high, screaming and shouting, the sirens of the cars going off and megaphones over the commotion as the police tried to break it all up. “There’s no way you’re getting through here, we can clear you a pathway, but it’ll take a few minutes, and I wouldn't recommend leaving your van in this area.”

You turned to look at Newt, his brow raising as you tried to work out what to do. Spinning your gaze back out across the crowds, you assessed the situation, barely even able to see the centre, and nobody was parting for the cars to get through, trying to create a pathway to get to the centre. The stabbing victim was undoubtedly going to be going to the hospital, and was likely going to be too injured to fight back through the crowds, and so the likelihood and needing the stretcher was raised high.

“You stay with the truck, I’ll go and do an initial assessment, drive up and meet me.”

“There is no way I’m letting you out alone in that. You’ll never make it out.” You huffed, but your lips flicked up a little at the edges form his concern, unbuckling yourself from your seat and edging yourself through the centre console to the back of the vehicle. “Come and sit back down, right now!”

“Someone’s gotta’ go out there, Newt, or we’re going to be answering questions on why we let someone die of a stab wound.” Lifting your bag onto your shoulder, you secured both straps over your arms, tight enough not to fall, and unlocking the back doors from the inside. “I’m already up now, you wanna’ stop me, you’ll have to catch me first.”

Hopping out and into the edges of the crowds you’d pulled up to, you made sure the latch was on, that the doors couldn't be opened unless it was by Newt himself, slamming them closed, and rounding the vehicle find the police officer who’d come to talk to you both in the first place. The blond was glaring at you from the driver's seat, shaking his head at your actions, even though you both knew it was the only way, and somebody’s life was on the line.

The crowds weren’t all that tough to get through at first, following the man in front of you, but as the crowds got rougher and the shouting got louder, you lost sight of him, trying to pick out the colour of his shirt or the hat atop his head, but it was impossible. Jostled from side to side, it got harder to fight your way through the hoards, and you were beginning to use your elbows to nudge people out of the way, fighting your way through.

An elbow, maybe a fist, you weren’t sure, but something solid collided with your side, a grunt leaving you as pain flared up, and you clamped your own arm down over the spot, pushing through the people. It was the first of many, your jaw clenches to deal with it as more spots across your body sparked with patches that would become dull aches in hours, the rioting growing stronger and more intense as the circle of people around you became a more personal addition to the aggressions. You’d have bruises on your shoulders later in the day, the abuse they were receiving as you tried to push through, one hand covering your face, and just like that, you were finding the eye of the storm, the battering you’d been receiving coming to a halt as you broke into the middle.

There was a man on the floor, everybody else being held back by police officers around the small scene, and you swallowed thickly, the barriers looking like they would break at any moment. You couldn't tell who was who, which of the men gathered here were friends of the man, and which ones wanted to kill him, and you were sure that the man who’d down the stabbing was probably in the crowds watching.

Kneeling beside him, you took in the scene, grimacing a little as your knee became sticky, the fabric covering it sticking to your skin with a growing stain as the pool of blood the man had released began to soak into your trousers. “Hi there, I’m a paramedic, and I need you to let me look, okay?”

His head turned to you, a snake on his lips, spitting blood at the ground by your body, and you sighed. Not a surprise, the gangs didn’t often take kindly to groups like firemen and the police, or the paramedics, being that they were mostly going against the law and the public interest, their own form of rebellion, and you did not serve those interests well.

“Alright, listen, you have two choices here.” He huffed, rolling his eyes as his head lay back against the concrete, blood seeping between his fingers from the wound as he coughed and your timer seemed to kick up a notch. “The police are holding these guys back, but I bet you can see at least one person out there who doesn’t want you to get better, am I right? Now, you’ve removed the knife, so you’re bleeding out, and nothing is stopping that, your hands aren’t even in the right place for putting pressure one it. So, either you get your hands out of the way and let me look, or you hope that you bleed to death before that wall breaks and someone comes to finish you off. Which is it going to be?”

He groaned, his body jerking and a cry leaving his lips as his hands fell away, and you nodded your head, a pair of rubber gloves being pulled onto your hands, trying to take a look. It was bleeding far too quickly for you to get any idea about what was happening, thick and dark blood, not the best sign, and you dragged a finger along his skin gently until you found the tear, the shrill cry he made signalling your location, and you measured it as best you could with your finger.

“Well, the good news is, your wound is only about a half-inch across, and it feels pretty clean, there’s no tearing. Smaller knife, huh?”

“Didn’t feel like such a small knife when I was being fucking stabbed.” He hissed, your brow raising, and you let out a light laugh.

“Oh, deadman’s got jokes, huh? That’s good, you’re holding on. for now.”

“If I’m a deadman, then you’re not very good at your job, are you?” His words were wheezed out, and you grinned, lifting his hand to place over the right place, pushing down on it roughly, and he cursed you in another language under his breath, gurgling a little as he did but holding the pressure.

“Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll have you fixed up real quick. You’re going to have to go to the hospital, but I’ll keep you alive ‘til then.” Slipping your bag down your arms, you opened it up, the first set you opened being a leather foldout of tools, unwrapping the knot and letting it fall open, filled with different instruments. With fingers hovering over them, bloody digits picking up a pair of scissors. Lining them up at the edge of his shirt, you looked back up to him, noting the way his eyes were rolling a little. “Hope you weren’t too attached to this shirt, because it’s not going to make it.”

He only grumbled, his hand barely flinching when you lifted it to place on the ground, and the speed at which blood was bubbling up from the gash across his flesh was slowing down, concerningly so. Cutting away his shirt, tanned skin was smeared with drying blood, a frown on your lips, and you hummed to yourself under your breath.

“You still with me there?”

He groaned again, and you hurried your work as much as you could. Grabbing at a handful of bandaging, you left it scattered across your lap, the first package being torn open and beginning to wipe up the blood that was seeping from his injury the rags becoming soaked as you worked, and as you cleared at the darker blood staining his skin, you began to reach the fresh red, lesser as you want, his skin paling around the sever in his flesh. Picking up his wrist, the veins were fading, no longer visible directly under the skin, and you worried your lower lip between your teeth as panic set in.

“Hey, c’mon, now. I need you to hold on for me, alright?” He twitched a finger, the hand laying on the concrete became a fist, and you picked up an antibacterial wipe, fingers shaking a little as you tried to open the packet, and it felt like the screaming around you was getting louder, everything going into overdrive. “Look, my partner will be here in one second, and we’ll get you on the stretcher, and get you to the hospital, okay?”

“Okay.” His words were raspy, laboured through the liquid building in his throat as he tried to speak, but you were relieved to hear anything at all.

“This is going to hurt, alright?” He didn’t respond to that, but he made what you assumed was supposed to be a scream as you wiped over the cut, apologising quietly as he thrashed with what energy he had left, and the movements caused a surge more blood to spew from the wound. Looking up, you found the front of the white van, your ambulance number printed in dark blue lettering across the front, a relieved sigh making itself known from your throat as the driver’s seat was empty, and Newt would be here in a moment. “Alright, we’re going to get you on a stretcher now, alright?”

“‘Bout time.”

You laughed breathily, his head twisting toward you, and a pang of guilt shot through you as you really took a moment to observe him. He couldn't be any older than fifteen, he was still just a kid, and you tried to suppress the nausea that was twisting in your gut at the idea of a kid dying on your watch. “When we do, we’re going to roll you onto your side, just for a split second. When we do, I want you to cough. Hard as you can. It’ll hurt, but we can get some blood out of your throat. Can you do that?”

His hand twitched again, wet breaths as he loved the fist to sit on its side thumb raising weakly to conform he understood in what was the most pitiful and depressing use of a ‘thumbs up’ that you had ever seen. Using one hand to put pressure on the wound, you tried to pack up your kit with the other, cries leaving him as he finally let his youth show through, not enough strength to hide it anymore and clean tears were being left along the dirt and blood on his cheeks from the tears that were rolling free, gasping for breath as he struggled to even breathe.

The shouting took up again, loudly, a sudden combustion of violent and terrified screams, you twisted your head to glance over your shoulder, catching a flash of movement, before a solid hand landed on your shoulder and you were being torn backwards, a yelp on your lips. You were steady, for only a moment, legs flexing underneath you s you were partially lifted from the flood in the grip, before you were landing on your side, your arm crossed under you and the bruised side of your ribs was battered even more, a pained scream, before it was cut off as the side of your head hit the ground to follow.

Your ears were ringing, head pounding from the collision with the pavement and eyes a little blurry as you watched the man who’d dashed forward be tackled by two sides of blue, pinned to the floor by officers as the crowd roared in a combination of thrilled and angered hollers. You groaned, every muscle in your body feeling weak for a moment, and your eyes watered at the burn along your side increased tenfold, now a throbbing agony.

A gentler hand now, rolling you over, and you blinked up at whoever it was, managing to decipher Newt as your vision cleared. His mouth was moving, and you could somewhat understand him, your hands finding the floor again as you pushed yourself to sit up, his hand smoothing around to your back as he helped you.

“Newt, get the kid.”

“Are you okay?” He persisted, the stretcher long abandoned, and you nodded your head, despite the pain it caused.

“It’s a kid, Newt! Get the kid, I’ll be fine.” He didn’t look so convinced, shaking his head a little, before you were pushing him away, taking a moment to catch your breath as it had been forced from your lungs, and he did as told. You heard the cough, and the velcro-sounds of the neck brace being put on him, the young boy groaning as he was moved, and you decided that if he still had the energy, then you did too.

Making a fist, you braced yourself for support, pushing up from the ground and staggering to your feet, feeling a little weak as the pain travelled your body, but you could handle it, and as the kid was adjusted on the strong yellow blackboard for the stretcher, you made your way to the other side. Taking a hold of one handle, and Newt stared up at you. His jaw dropped to argue, a slight shake of your head silencing him, and he frowned again.

“You ready?”

“Are you?” He retorted, and you locked your hands over the other handle, watching as he mirrored your stance, bent at the knees and ready to halt him up onto the trolley.

“Lift on three, alright?” He did the count down, and you bit on your tongue to keep your complaints and pain to yourself, lifting the board with the boy up and securing it onto the folding trolley, trying not to jerk him too much as you strapped him down.

“You know, it’s going to be worse getting out then it was getting in. Lotta’ them don’t want him to leave.”

You had already braced yourself for that, the back of the ambulance only ten metres away, and you had to reach it, strap him in, and get the doors closed, before you were safe and could get to the hospital. Pushing the vehicle along together, you were grabbed at, ducking fists and avoiding kicks as you struggled through. Newt moved first, unlocking the back of the van and rolling down the ramp again, grabbing the front of the truck while you pushed from the back, pulling him up until the wheels locked into their place.

He moved to the front, the engine starting up as you retrieved the ramp and pulled the doors closed, watching as hands were snapped out of the way when you showed no regards for trapping or breaking fingers. The second they were shut, you locked them, jerking a little and trying to catch yourself as the van went into motion.

Leaning over the boy before you, a hand on the top of the vehicle to hold yourself steady, you let out a relieved breath as he blinked, eyes turning to look at you. Your first move was getting a heart rate band on his arm pushing up his sleeve as the shredded material of his shirt hung open, and he didn’t even move as the cuff was placed around his upper arm, squeezing tightly. The machine above you clicked into life as it gained date, a steady and alarmingly relaxed heart rate ringing out, and you were determined to do something about that. Lifting down an oxygen mask and twisting the tank on, you lifted his head, securing the band around his skull and ignoring the throbbing within your own as the mask settled over his mouth.

Now, you could move to the wound. Barely patched up, the quickest job either of you could do in the middle of the riot, you had time to focus now, trying to hold yourself steady as your body trembled angrily and the vehicle swung around corners, sirens blaring as you rushed to the hospital. “Jeez, Newt, can you hold us steady?”

“Sorry! I’m trying!”

You only huffed, meeting his eye in the mirror as he looked back to you, a slight twinkle in them despite it all, raised at the edges to show a smile you couldn't see. Focusing back on the injured kid before you, the wrapping on his stomach was carefully removed, the bleeding somewhat under control, but you were putting that down to a worrying amount of blood loss, his sin going pale, eyelid drooping as he barely clung to consciousness, and you began to try and keep it as well closed as you possibly could while you approached where he could get real care.

Plastic stitches, strong enough to attach to either side of the wound and pull it shit, sticky and resilient on the hold, and they sealed it up enough to stop the copious amounts of blood that had been coming through, narrowing it down to small beads. Grabbing for a larger, cleaner patch of gauze to cover the injury, for now, you doused it with an antibacterial, the product being just wet enough to soak into his wound, before pressing it over his cut and sealing down to his skin, the paper tape fastened it and you let out a sigh of relief.

His heart rate was stabilising, it wasn’t ideal but he was at least reaching a level he could hold, and you slumped down into the seat as you felt newt begin to slow down, picking up the radio on his dashboard to call it in as the roads narrowed and became a little more calm, approaching the hospital. Newt was talking in the front, reciting everything that he could about the boy’s injury, and he wasn’t in much of a state to tell you much about his blood type or allergies right now.

A hand reached out, locking onto your wrist, and your eyes snapped up to find the young boy, his head rolled to the side to look at you, it was a weak grip, a somewhat distant look in his eyes, and you shook your head as you watched him reach up to try and remove the mask. Doing it for him, you removed it carefully, placing it over his chin, and he coughed a little with the sudden change in air consistencies, but it was a healthier and dryer sounding cough than it had been.

“Thank you.” You barely caught the words, your brows furrowing as you took a minute to decipher what he’d said, still not believing it when you worked it out, but the earnest look in his eyes said it all. Brushing some of the sweat and grime matted hair back out of his face, you sighed, placing the mask back over his mouth gently, and trying to offer him the most reassuring smile you could.

“You gotta’ get out of this lifestyle, kid. You’re young enough to change everything, still. You could still get good grades, go to college, do something great.” He stared at you, confusing flittering through dull eyes as you spoke. “You don’t have to still be doing this in ten years, you can stop.”

He shook his head, looking as though he attempted to speak again, and you didn’t allow it, knowing he needed to just rest for the final few moments.

“I know you feel like there’s no way out, and that the other boys in the gang are your family. You need a healthy family, a supportive family, not a family who let you get stabbed. I know a thing or two about taking any family you can get, but you have to find the right one, okay?”

He didn’t respond for a moment, looking away from you, and you were certain that you’d hit a brick wall, but his hand slipped down from your wrist to your own, squeezing tightly as he nodded his head, eyes sliding closed, and you could feel Newt’s gaze flicking back and forth to you as he pulled up to the front of the hospital, clearly having heard your words, but you never looked at him, keeping your eyes on the kid whose life you were saving.

The second that the vehicle stopped, you were out of it, like a flash, unlocking the doors and unrolling the ramp, freeing the stretcher wheels from their locks. Uncuffing the band on his arm and oxygen mask from around his head, it was left to dangle uselessly, cleaned for later so that you could roll him into the hospital. Two nurses met you at the door, taking the stretcher and walking him away, letting you spew off any extra facts you could think of, his eyes sticking to yours for a final moment, before he was disappearing behind a curtain that was dragging shut, and you could finally feel yourself breathe easy again as he fell into expert hands.

You let out a long sigh, turning to face Newt, who was in much the same position as you were; a little battered and bruised, totally frazzled, and in desperate need of a rest now.

“You ready to go?”

“Not ‘til you get checked out yourself.” He motioned a hand along your body, and you looked down at yourself, arms crossing defensively over your chest. “Don’t look at me like that, you’re going to say something like ‘they’re only bruises, Newt’ or ‘it’s not that big of a deal’, well, maybe they are and maybe it’s not, but we’re not leaving until you get it checked. I have this worry you, like, broke a rib, or something.”

You gaped at him, hating how well he knew you, and he smirked as he stared back, raising a challenging brow and crossing his own arms, completing the stare down, the battle of wills, that you were both having. He was just as stubborn as you were, unwilling to back down, and you gave in, rolling your eyes as your shoulders slumped. “Fine, I’ll get my ribs checked, but only if you get that ankle checked.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me ank-”

“So, you didn't get kicked in your bag leg while loading the ambulance? And, you haven’t been favouring the other since we left?” He scowled, throwing an arm over your shoulders and letting the slight limp show as the two of you walked over to the nurses’ desk.

“I don’t like how you turned that one me.”

“What are friends for, huh?” He turned to you, leaning against the counter as you aired for assistance, and he beamed.

“Oh, so you admit that we’re friends, now? You know, that’s one step closer to wanting to stay.” There were more words on his tongue, you could practically already hear them, something about a ‘family’ no doubt, a joke about the conversation he’d overheard between you and the patient, but he was interrupted before he could get the chance. A nurse he knew, sweet eyes and a name tag with ‘Allison’ written on, and she guided you both to separate beds, only a curtain to separate you, and yet as you rested against the cushions, you already felt like you could fall asleep right there, relieved just to get off of your feet.

Your head was hanging, eyes slipping shut a little, and you startled when the curtain was dragged back open, the metal hooks scraping over the bar holding it up, and you jumped, looking up at the doctor before you. Dark hair, tanned skin, and a sweet smile on his lips as he held his hand out to you to shake. His name followed, introducing himself as a ‘Doctor McCall’, and he pulled up a chair, the wheels rolling over the floor as he took a seat before you to let you explain what happened.

Undoing the buttons on your shirt, he shook his head with a bashful smile and a falsely judgemental eyes as he took in the extent of the damage, and as you looked down at the dark purple bruising beginning to spread over your skin, and the swelling taking lace, you realised you may have underestimated the damage. Perhaps it was a good thing to have Newt looking out for you. You weren’t used to that.

He pressed along your skin gently, the rubber gloves on his hands cold and making your twitch, silence going by for a few seconds as he tested your breathing, listened into your chest, and watched you raised and move your arms, trying to be honest about your pain when he asked, and when it flared up.

He decided you didn't have a broken rib, a diagnosis you were grateful for, because the longer it took, the more it felt like Newt may actually have been right. It was simply bad swelling, a collection that would take at least two weeks to start truly dying down, but you were cleared for duty as long as you tried to take it easy. He cleaned the cut along your hairline, paper stitches standing out in a stark contrast to your skin that you soon covered with your hair, and with a few painkillers in you and a schedule for more, as well as a prescription for some bruise cream, you were sent on your way.

Newt was already waiting, staring disdainfully at the contraption on his foot, and regardless of the pain it caused, you laughed loudly as he turned the glare and scowl on you. “I have to wear this bloody thing for a week, thanks to you!”

“I think you look stylish.” You teased, and he scoffed.

“It’s annoying already, and it makes my foot itch. I hate it.” You only rolled your eyes, but even at the awkward steps he was taking with the pressure-holding and padded velcro boot he wore, he was no longer limping, and that was a good thing.

“You know, I’m going to have to drive. You’ll press all the pedals at once with that thing on.” He looked like he wanted to argue, but could clearly tell you were right, and his shoulders slumped even further as you held out your hand, watching him fish through his pockets to find the keys, and handing them over reluctantly.

The ride back to the station was filled with music and quiet chatter, you telling Newt all about this kid and his sense of humour, and the great thing you thought he could one day do, and he was happy to listen, telling you about some of the other patients he'd worked on himself, as the current chart-toppers played quietly in the background, keeping your moods high and upbeat.

You couldn't deny that it was nice, to have someone to consider a friend, someone you could rely on, and with every case you worked - today’s in particular - you were finding yourself trusting Newt more and more. He was someone who made you laugh, he had a sharp sense of humour but gave you the harsh truths you needed, even when you didn’t want to hear them, and yet he still cared about you, that much was clear, and you were finding yourself starting to care about him, too.

You both groaned as you pulled into the driveway, watching the delivery truck for pharmaceutical supplies arrive, and it wasn’t a lot of boxes, but you still had paperwork and the cleaning of the truck to do, as well as unpack all the new supplies into the station medical kits and the van, and you stared at one another for a second. He offered his hands in a battle of ‘rock, paper, scissors’ for it, and yet you knew he wouldn't be able to handle it.

“You go inside, and put some ice on your ankle. Do all the paperwork, and I’ll sort the supplies and the van out.”

“Yeah?” He perked up a little at the offer, sitting up in his seat as you parked the van properly and handed him his keys back, both of you hopping out of the car, and walking around together to the front of the vehicle.

“Yes, I’ll go sign for everything and get them to bring it inside, you go find ice.”

He grinned, ruffling your hair with one hand, and you sighed, rolling your head from side to side to loosen the knots forming, before heading over to where the delivery man was waiting. As he began unloading the boxes inside of the garage doors, you checked over the list, ticking off in your head everything that had been gathered, and what they hadn't been able to get a hold of, signing your name at the bottom of several pieces of paper, and handing it back to him. He tipped his cap at you, a sweet older man that always made you laugh, and you waved him off as he left, hands falling to your hips as you stared at the boxes.

You were left with your thoughts, trying to come up with a game plan, and your body was desperately screaming out for a shower, when a loud shout of your name echoed around the bay, loud enough that you’d have been able to hear it from the other end of the station, your head snapping up.

Thomas was staring at you, pure fire in his eyes, that made you gulp, and he stormed toward you with determination, stopping a few feet away. “What the fuck is that?”

“Uh, supplies?”

“Not the fucking boxes, the boot on Newt’s leg.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, and everyone in the room who had been working on the trucks and the tables around fell quiet, the silence so tense you swore you’d be able to hear a pin drop. “He has a bad leg, you already knew that, and yet you let him get injured. What kind of fucking partner are you?”

“That’s not fair! We-”

“That’s not fair? No, what’s not fair is knowing that Newt has done everything he can to make you feel welcome here, to try and drag you kicking and screaming into a house you don’t want to be in, and at which you're not wanted, and this is how you repay him?” That stung, your jaw snapping shut as you swallowed thickly, eyes flicking over the other people who had all gone stock still, hoping if they just observed and didn’t get noticed, they wouldn't fall victim to Thomas’ sudden wrath too.

You got it, you truly did. Thomas and Newt were the best of friends, ever since they were kids. Newt had told you the story of how they'd practically been ‘friends since the sandbox’, and you did feel awful for what happened to him, but it wasn't your fault.

“You want to be a part of this team? You want to make it here? Then you need to start acting like a member of a team, and start looking out for people other than yourself.”

He stormed away, spinning on his heel, and your nails were digging into your palms from how tightly your fists were clenched. You weren’t going to make a scene, or breakdown and give him the satisfaction. Instead, you held your head high, making your way to the showers to be alone with your thoughts and wash up, to try and soothe the aching pains along your body, and the aching pain in your chest from his harsh words.

Turning on the hot water, your eyes squeezed shut, letting out a long and shaky breath as you tried to let go of your emotions. You were trembling slightly, unsure whether it was from the way you’d been spoken to, the events of the day, or simply the pain in your body, but dipping your head under the water, you breathed out happily at the hot water beating down against you.

You were tense, muscles stiff and joints practically locked as you tried to relax, and you could have dozed off from the very second that your eyes closed. It was a struggle to simply find the motivation to wash yourself off, water dripping from the tip of your nose and your shin as you looked down, eyelashes feeling heavy and clumpy as you stared at your feet, a tint to the water as the dirt often day washed off.

There was a cut on your knee, brushing along your thigh and your knuckles were torn from your collision with the ground, but luckily, they were all small cuts that would heal very quickly. The bruises would take longer, your side littered with them now, one big bruise that was stretching from your hips to under your arms, fanning around your stomach and as far as your bak in all different shades of splotchy severity.

It hurt to lift your arms and wash your hair, and it hurt even more to scrub your body, stretching muscles gourd and cleaning at the skin. When you finally got out, trying to rub some simple cream into you face and comb your hair, the edge of your t-shirt held between your teeth to keep it up as you stared at the markings in the mirror, a patch wiped in the steam on the glass to be able to see, a tube of cream from your personal medkit open in your hand, and you weren’t sure you even had enough left to cover a patch this large.

You gave it your best go, starting in the middle where it hurt the most and working out toward the edges, eyes lined with tears as your fingers pressed to the skin, rubbing the cream until it was warm and could distribute more evenly across your skin, pain flaring up with each patch you touched. It felt as though it was on fire, even as you lowered your shirt. That pain took a while to rescind, you had pulled on your boots and tied back what you could of the still slightly damp hair, knowing that you’d never be able to hold up a hairdryer long enough to get it dry anyway.

The speakers overhead chirped twice, a melody that was different to the alarm that asked you to go to call, but this one was something that always brought joy, telling you that it was time for you to go home. The end of the day, the next shift coming in, your team leaving as House ‘21’s Team Two came in to take over. You grabbed your hoodie from your locker, no longer needing to look as professional, but knowing that you still weren’t going home anytime soon, you needed to at least be wrapped up warm.

You still had supplies to unpack, and a van to clean, blood dripped on the floor and equipment to be sterilised, and as you left the locker room, you swung by the cleaning cupboard, a bucket of supplies under your arm as you went. A lot of your team were still hanging around as you exited, getting ready to leave as the first of the other team began to trickle in, making sure there were always enough people left here to hand over in case there was a poorly timed call.

The fire teams had it reasonably lucky, each team shared the same squad or truck vehicles, but the ambulances were separate, and so you’d only loathe yourself if you didn’t do it now, and had to come in early before your next shift to sort it.

Unlocking the back doors, you opened it up, unfolding the ramp and lifting each individual bottle out of the bucket to line them up along the back of the truck. The mop bucket was left empty, and you knew you’d have to clean the floors, but you wanted to get everything else done first. Stripping the sheets from the stretcher, still stained with blood, and the plastic sheet underneath too, you grabbed a new wrapping from the hatch over the bed, covering the simple mattress that was laid over the metal bars.

Dropping the dirty rags onto the cold stone floor outside of the van, you grabbed at a bottle of disinfectant spray, shaking it as you went, and popping the top off of it. You sprayed everything, covering the inside of the mask and the outside, every surrounding piece of equipment, anything the man may have touched, or that you might have while wearing bloodied gloves, all the way to the handles on the insides of the doors.

You sprayed the seats, too, knowing that you’d had blood on yourself as you’d sat there, and the smell of bleach and chemicals was making your eyes sting and your throat feel itchy and blocked, but at least it was clean. Dropping that back down, you found some cloth and glass cleaner next, the windows and the mirrors dirty and dusty from the commotion, and you knew they needed to stay clean, so your guidance when driving was never impaired. It was all squeaky clean when you were finishing with it, only the floss left to be mopped down, and then the supplies unstacked, and you placed your hands on your hips as you stared at it all, feeling proud despite the protesting your body was giving up.

You still needed to mop, blood stains and dirt on the floors of the truck, but that was arguably the easiest part of your job, and so you scanned your eyes around for the mop bucket once again. There were several buckets still lay out, disinfectant, bleach, different germ killers, and some that you’d simply selected for their nice smell, and you added a splash of each to the bucket, a concoction you’d been using for years in many different formations from house to house.

Grabbing it by the handle, you held it in both arms, heading through to the rec-room, and dipping your head in a nod with a smile as you watched Newt and Minho head out, the former of who’s hand raised up in a wave as he continued to walk out with his friend, never stopping his chatter.

Placing the mop bucket under the hot water canteen, it rested of its own free will on the counter, and you leaned back a little, taking a small break. Fry was still looking through the fridge, grabbing the tupperwares of food he’d made but never had a chance to eat, his dinner for the night most likely, before nudging it shut with his foot and offering you a bright grin as he left. Brenda was singing loudly from the locker room, the new team beginning to filter in, and fill the space, and as you heard the cupboard door behind you open, you jumped, snapping back to attention and unsure of when your eyes had even closed.

Taller than you, a good free inches on your height, you turned to look up at the curly-haired boy standing beside you, watching as he retreated from within with a cereal bar, unwrapping it as he nudged it closed, peeling it open and turning to face you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Just a little tired, ready to head home. Not much left to do, now.” It was a small lie, only brief, because you’d probably still be here for a couple of hours with the pace at which you were moving and the workload that was left, and you turned to flip the tab on the hot water, deeming it to be enough as the sweet smell of the floral mix you’d added to the bleach drifted around the room.

“I meant, how are you doing.” His gaze dropped down to your side, the side you were holding a somewhat limp arm at, before coming back up to meet your gaze, and taking a bite of the snack in his hand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m a candidate. Ninety percent of my time is spent schlepping around doing all the chores. I saw you cleaning the trucks while I was going through some paperwork, you’ve been favouring your right side. You must’ve gotten the other side beat up pretty bad.” You raised a brow at his observations, impressed by how much he’d managed to deduce, but he dipped his head, a small smile on his face. “Also, after Thomas yelled at you, Newt chewed his ear off for, like, five minutes in front of everyone and said you got hurt too.”

“And here I was thinking you were just that observant.” You tutted, leaning down to pick up the bucket, and Chuck jumped in, taking it for you, instead, and you mumbled a thank you, walking along beside him.

“You know, you could have come and asked me for help. I didn’t think you’d still be around cleaning this late.”

“Well, someone has to do it, right? It’s best to just get it done, and then I can go home and relax.” He placed the bucket down at your feet as the two of you came to stand before the opened truck, and you grabbed for the mop, dunking it into the hot water and swishing it around a little.

“Yeah, but, you’re hurt. I could have helped.”

“It's my job, Chuck. Not yours. You already have enough on your plate.” You walked up the ramp, beginning to swipe the wet end across the floor, stains and muck smearing as you went to reveal the polished metal underneath. He tucked his hands into his pockets, shoulders rising and falling a little.

“It feels like you can’t ask anyone to help, right?” You paused, looking up at him, and his face was painted neutral, but an understanding look shone in his eyes. “I get it. When you feel like you’re more just colleagues than friends, everyone is nice to you but asking a favour of them still seems more like it’d be a burden on them. An inconvenience. You’re on the team, but you’re not on the team. That’s how you feel right?”

“Did you talk to Newt?”

He laughed, shaking his head, the young boy’s curls bouncing as he did. “No, he wouldn't get it. Newt is great, but he’s on the team. I’m just a candidate, they still worry I might drop out, or have my experience and transfer to another house instead. They don’t trust me yet. Not fully. I think you feel that way, too.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You paused, rinsing the mop and ringing it clean to wipe at the floors again, pausing to lean on the handle a little. “They like you more than me, though.”

“Maybe, but I still have more in common with you right now than I do any of the others. We can be in this together.” That brought a smile to your face, your heart warming a little bit, because it did feel nice to finally have someone else to relate to, and so you found yourself smiling, figuring you might as well add a nod in agreement at this point.

“Alright, Chuck. We’re in it together.”

He laughed a little, reaching out one hand to smack against yours in a high five, your giggles mixing with his at the simple action, before he stepped back once again. “I’d stay with you and help out, but I have dinner plans with my mom. I can call and rearrange, if you do want some help, though? I feel like that’s what I should do.”

“Go to dinner, Chuck.”

“But, friends don’t leave other friends to clean alone when they’re hurt.” He sighed, a puppy-dog look crossing over his features.

“I will be fine, I swear. Go enjoy your family time, if it gets too much, I’ll just stop and leave it.” He made you promise to do so, his pinky held out in a way that made you laugh as you sealed the bond by wrapping your finger with his.

He took a few steps backwards, waving as he went, before facing the right way once again. You were left to watch him take his few steps toward the door, and you turned back to the job at hand, you kept up with the mopping, trying to make sure the floor was spotless, and using your foot to push the head of the mop along as you did, trying to ease the ache on your arms.

A knock against the edge of the ambulance, the metal ringing loudly, and you sighed, a smile on your face as you set the mop back down. “Thought I told you to go home, Chuck?”

Spinning around, your smile quickly dropped, the person looking up at you not being Chuck, and you tried not to frown as Thomas stared up at you. “It’s, uh, not Chuck.”

“I see that.”

He pursed his lips, a look more like a grimace on his face as he stepped back, letting you walk down the ramp slowly to stand before him, and he rolled on the balls on his feet a little as the space between you died with awkward tension. As the moment dragged out, you felt even more on edge than usual, watching as he let his eyes flick over the rest of the open space, avoiding you entirely.

“So, what do you need?”

“I wanted to apologise for shouting at you.” His gaze finally returned to you, an honest look on his face as he did, and you sighed trying not to seem quite too aggressive in your stance as he offered the first apology between you both. “Newt said you got hurt too, and that I shouldn’t have gone off at you, so, I’m sorry.”

“Right.” You hummed, not sure of what to say now that he had, and you lifted an arm, holding on the elbow on the other side, slightly defensive as you tried to steady your own anxiety. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Can I see?”

“What?” Your eyes narrowed on him, and he sighed with a slight hint of irritation in his voice.

“The bruises. Can I see how bad it is?”

“I’m a paramedic, Lieutenant. I know how to diagnose bruises, and I had it checked out at the hospital, I’m perfectly fine.” You turned away from him, taking barely a step before his hand was wrapping around upper-arm, and turning you to face him again. It wasn’t a tight grip, but it was on your bad side, and it hurt a little bit as you spun. He seemed to sense the pain, maybe it was the wince on your face, but he let go.

“Can you stop making it so hard to extend an olive branch, or whatever? It’s my job to know how badly injured you are so I can try and make your workload lighter. I’m just trying to be nice.” He growled, the word coming out through gritted teeth, and you swallowed a little, a single jolt of guilt running through you.

Turning to your side, you lifted the edge of your jumper and shirt, shivering a little at the cool breeze that had brushed over your skin as you did. He hissed under his breath, reaching out a little but never touching you as he took it in, before nodding his head. He looked at you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning up from your eyes to your hairline, squinting a little at the mark there.

A hand landed on your cheek, high enough that his thumb could push almost-dry strands out of the way, turning your head to the side, and your jaw dropped as he did, feeling his thumb smoothing over your skin lightly. Pulling your head away from him, he dropped his hand back to his side, caring his throat, and that same awkward tension rose between you again. “They’re pretty bad.”

“Well, they’re not sunshine and flowers.”

You swore you almost saw amusement flicker across the blank look on his face for just a second, but you'd never be sure, and so you simply folded your arms and tried not to clench too much. “You want some help carrying it all inside? You can finish mopping, and then we can put the stuff away together.”

“That’s really not n-” He raised a brow at you, challenging the refusal of the help and hidden olive branch he was offering you. “Fine, yeah. That would be nice.”

He only dipped his head, moving to the boxes in the corner, he opened up the first, lifting out rolls of bandages and bringing them back over as you inched the bucket down the ramp once again. He brought them over, stepping up alongside you and resting the box on the gurney as he began to unpack the contents quietly.

“Oh, the gauze! That goes in t-”

“I know where it goes.” He muttered, your jaw snapping shut, and you huffed a little. He never cast you a glance. “I’ve worked here a hell of a lot longer than you have.”

You only hummed, bending enough to pick up the blood soaked sheets from the floor and take them to the washers. He didn’t spare you a glance as you informed him of your plans, letting you walk away in silence as he unpacked boxes.

It wasn’t ideal, it certainly wasn’t comfortable, but at least it was something. It was the longest the two of you had ever been in one another’s company without it becoming a screaming match, and so it was a step beyond simply despising one another, finding some kind of common ground.

#thomas #thomas the maze runner #thomas x reader #thomas/reader #SAF #smoke and fire #tomuary #tom-uary #tommy month #thomas x reader smut #thomas/reader smut #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien thomas #dylan obrien the maze runner #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien/reader smut

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bookandcranny · 4 years

Text

Shortwave Radio

Why he decided to leave behind a perfectly good astral cluster and go sight-seeing on a spinning ball of dirt in this great cosmic nothing of a solar system is a mystery to the entire family, but it’s been almost ten years now and so they’ve all had no choice but to conclude that he’s not coming back any time soon.

The right thing to do is to support him in it, so says tender-hearted big brother Hercules, and if that means jumping through a few hoops to attend some strange human ceremony in this hot and lifeless wasteland, then that’s simply what they’ll do.

summary: Five siblings from the stars come to earth by invitation of their estranged little brother, who’s only request to them is that they take a road trip across the American southwest and try to learn to see this planet the way he sees it.

content warnings: dysfunctional families, carsickness, strong language, fear of abandonment, and accidental misgendering of a nonbinary character

length: about 7k words

also, have a playlist!

🛸🛸🛸

On a particularly sticky day in late July, a black minivan rolls up outside Gruber’s Convenience somewhere in the vague liminal world of the i-110 out of El Paso. Shimmering like a mirage the vehicle comes to a stop and five figures shuffle into the station. Working the counter is a greasy-faced teenager who calls himself Benj, though according to his nametag he’s Benjamin until the end of his shift.

If he weren’t intentionally ignoring the group that just walked in, resenting the loss of quiet and the cool air that just escaped with the chime of the door, Benj would notice a few things about them. For one thing, while they all look quite different, all five of them are wearing the exact same clothes: pale blue t-shirt, gray jeans, plain white sneakers, not a toe scuffed or sullied by the dust they kicked up coming in. They’re perfectly inconspicuous outfits, but too new, too deliberate in their banality.

The people in the clothes have much the same effect. They’re collections of ordinary, aesthetically pleasing parts assembled as if at random, almost uncanny at the wrong angle. Not supermodel pretty, but perhaps stock photo passable. One of them keeps touching things. Just, touching them. He trails his fingers over snack cakes and little pouches of corn nuts with an unreadable expression. Three of them are clustered together in front of the drinks fridge speaking in hushed tones.

The last one of the bunch is hovering in the corner making eyes at the shop’s resident mascot, Garfield, an uncreatively named tabby cat who’s taken to sleeping on a box underneath the AC unit. The cashier does notice her (he thinks she’s a her) if only because she’s kind of cute, in a straight-laced camp counselor kinda way. He’s already building up an idea of her in his head, every atom of it more false than he realizes.

The Christine or Sydney or whoever reaches down and gives the cat a poke, which turns into an experimental stroke.

“Mrph?” says Garfield, like cats do.

“Mrph?” parrots the... Liz maybe? No, not quite, he thinks. Garfield blinks at her, yawns. She withdraws, looking half offended by his indifference.

“Don’t take it personal,” Benj says. “He’s not very social.”

She looks at him for the first time and he reevaluates his earlier assessment. Eyes too pale, too far apart-- not ugly per se but definitely not worth the possible write-up he’d get for flirting with a customer.

“He’s the owner’s cat,” he babbles, scratching his chin and looking anywhere but at her. “Or so they say. Honestly I think he just showed up here one day and no one could get him to leave.”

Before she can reply, one of her matching buddies comes up to the register and dumps an assortment of snacks onto the counter. It’s a baffling, eclectic pile, but like any good retail worker Benj has long since learned not to examine anything too closely.

“Road trip, huh? Where are you guys headed?”

The radio behind the counter has gone all staticky. He fiddles with the antenna.

“Visiting family,” says snacks guy. His voice is soft and monotonous, a stark contrast as the guy’s built like a US SEAL.

Benj looks from face to face. “All of you?” He’s having a hard time believing any two of them are related.

He nods, once. A stiff, decisive shake of the head. The crackling of the radio is getting worse. Benj turns it off.

“Will that be everything, sir?”

Another nod.

“Herc, wait!” One of the man’s supposed relatives comes up behind him and shakes him by the shoulders. “Hercules, look at this.”

He slams a book down on the counter, one of the cheap paperbacks Gruber’s pedals between the condoms and the first-aid kit stuffings. The cover reads, “The Chest from The West” and features a heavily airbrushed model in a cowboy hat and unbuttoned flannel shirt.

“What am I looking at?” Herc asks.

“Get this too. I want to read it.”

“Why?”

He opens his mouth but whatever he’s about to say, Benj doesn’t really want to be present for it. He quickly scans the book and throws it cover-side-down into the bag. Let them work this one out on their own, hopefully somewhere else.

“Your total’s $29.75” He spins around to shake the radio, which is somehow now back on and blaring louder. When he turns back, the register is telling him everything’s been bought and paid for. Guy must be lightning quick with a credit card, he thinks.

“Huh. Guess you’re all set, man-- sir.” He hands them their bags. “Have fun at your family thing.”

He flashes the big guy a thumbs up. He looks strangely staggered by the gesture and replies haltingly, “Thank you. You also, have fun.”

“Come on, sibs,” the more energetic one chirps. “Cass? Cass, come on.” He drags his sister away from the cat, who’s just starting to warm up to her. “That’s you, remember? Let’s go.”

They don’t get any gas from the pumps outside. Benj is pretty sure he saw the testy looking one with the ponytail shoplift a bottle of off-brand cola, but he isn’t paid nearly enough to care. At least after they’re gone the radio starts working normally again.

Hercules drives, though it’s not so much driving as sitting in the driver’s seat and telling the van to go. Earth machines are simplistic and easy to manipulate. Slow though. Cass is riding “shotgun”, as is apparently customary for the navigator. Andromeda, Zeta, and Camelopardalis share the backseat, where the formermost is rehashing the same tired debate with the latter.

“We need to work out a better earth name for you,” he insists. “Myself, I’ve been doing some research and I’m thinking about going by ‘Andy’ from now on.”

“I’m not calling you that,” says Zeta.

Camelopardalis asks, “What’s wrong with the name I have?”

“It is a bit long,” Cassiopeia agrees. “A shorter one would help you fit in better.”

“Speaking of fitting in, something else has been bothering me. What’s your gender supposed to be?”

“My what?”

“You know, your gender. We all picked one.”

“It’s almost like you didn’t read the brief,” Zeta says, instigator that she is.

“It’s almost like none of you read the brief, that I took the time to write specifically to help you all acclimate to earth culture.”

“Zeta, don’t upset Cass,” Herc scolds.

“I’m not upset.” She turns in her seat to stare pointedly out the window. There isn’t much to look at, just miles upon miles of rolling desert interrupted by the occasional billboard or truck stop, all crawling by at a snail’s pace compared to the sort of travel they’re used to. Not that she’d recognize the analogy. She misses the cat.

Camelopardalis fiddles with their seatbelt. “Which one are you again?”

“I’m a ‘man’,” Andromeda recites. “Earth men are known for their physical prowess and carnivorous diet, they live in cave environments, and often congregate in packs called ‘fraternities’.” He waves the gas-station novel in the air. “I’m going to research their habits and perfect my persona. By the time I’m done with this I’ll practically be a local.”

“I don’t know… Zeta, what made you decide to be the other one?”

“Flipped a coin.”

“Women,” Cass informs them. “Can be most commonly identified by their long hair, fastidious hygiene habits, the use of traditional face paints to accentuate the eyes and lips, and by fleshy protrusions of the upper torso. Any of these traits can indicate an earth woman, though none are necessarily required.”

They throw up their hands. “How is that helpful at all then! Zeta?”

“What do you want me to do about it? I didn’t invent them. Hercules, are you sure these ‘snacks’ are safe to eat? They have a strange texture.”

“If you don’t like it, don’t eat it.” He punctuates the point by reaching back and grabbing a cream-filled cupcake off the pile. He tears the plastic with his teeth and eats half of it in a single bite. He barely tastes the thing, but he’s hoping if his siblings follow his lead their mouths will be too full to whine at him.

“Yeah, Zeta, don’t be a bitch.” Andromeda opens a pack of mini donuts, albeit more gingerly, and pops one into his mouth.

Cass whips her head around. “Where did you learn that word?”

He holds open the paperback and points to a page.

Austin hesitated. “I’ve never ridden a horse before. What if I fall?”

Derek chuckled manfully. “Don’t be a bitch, city boy,” he teased. Then he placed his large, calloused hand upon the small of Austin’s back. He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, I won’t ever let you fall.”

The navigator leans over the center console and tries to snatch the book away but he dodges swiftly, clutching it to his chest.

“That’s foul language, Andromeda Alpheratz.”

“Earthers use this kind of speech with each other all the time. It’s a sign of familiarity and affection. You guys need to be less formal if you want to blend in.”

“If it’s meant to be an insult,” Camelopardalis wonders. “Why would they use it to convey affection.”

“Because they’re brutish, unevolved lifeforms,” Zeta sneers. “‘Blend in, blend in’. The rest of you can worry about blending in with the apes. I’m only doing this for Perseus.”

“We’re all doing this for Percy,” Hercules says in a chastising voice that makes even Zeta shrink down in her seat. “So can we please agree to be somewhat civil and not make this trip more painful than it needs to be?”

There’s a murmur of general agreement and peace is restored, however temporarily. Camelopardalis clears their throat.

“I still don’t really understand why we couldn’t land directly at Perseus Nine’s coordinates.”

Cass huffs, blowing a dark curl out of her face. “For the last time, Percy specifically requested we partake in the human ritual of the ‘road-trip’ for this last portion of our journey. It’s the same route he traveled the first time he came to earth, and apparently holds some sort of sentimental significance. It’s important to him we experience the same pilgrimage. For some reason.”

She adds the last part under her breath, knowing full well the others will still hear her. They can hear one another when separated by countless miles of empty space, their voices resonating from star to star, clear as a bell. Compared to that, the close proximity of a rented minivan is stifling. There’s an uncomfortable intimacy to it, these crudely assembled physical forms pressed together, bloated and heavy with all the trappings of humanity. Sweat and road dust and gravity cling to Cass like an over-warm coat and she longs for the cool estrangement that comes so easily in the void of space. It’s tough to be a star-dweller away from her star.

“The reasons don’t matter,” Herc declares, and his word is as good as law here. He is the eldest of them, though the concept of seniority is abstracted somewhat by the literal millennia they’ve all lived through.

Percy is the baby, as well as the black sheep of the family, so to speak. (His actual moniker among their kinfolk roughly translates to “the dissonant note”, a scathing insult for those who knew what it meant.) Why he decided to leave behind a perfectly good astral cluster and go sight-seeing on a spinning ball of dirt in this great cosmic nothing of a solar system is a mystery to the entire family, but it’s been almost ten years now and so they’ve all had no choice but to conclude that he’s not coming back any time soon.

“At least we can check one more stop off the list,” Zeta quips. “What’s next?”

Cass checks her itinerary. “We are to visit one national historic landmark, one ‘tourist trap’-- whatever that means-- followed by a stop at ‘Diane’s Diner’, home of the world’s best pie. After that, we can head straight to the meet-up location.” She glances at the clock on the dashboard. “We’re a little behind schedule but we should make it right on time as long as there are no unexpected delays.”

An hour and a half of driving later, Andromeda throws up corn chips and mini donuts all over the back of Herc’s seat.

They pull over on the side of the road. The desert sand is just beginning to give way to sparse yellow grass, brittle from the sun. Herc steadies Andromeda, looking viscerally displeased as he finishes emptying out his recently manifested stomach.

Camelopardalis frets through the whole episode. “We’ve all been eating the same food, except for Zeta. If it’s poisonous, one of us will be next.”

“It’s not poison, it’s carsickness,” Cass sighs. “Honestly, I’m starting to think none of you even looked at the brief.”

“Zeta, look in the back for something to clean up with.”

“Why me?”

“We’re going to lose so much time…”

“Would you rather hold him?”

Andromeda retches.

“Do you think Percy would care if we skipped a couple stops?”

“Cassiopeia Sigma,” Hercules begins sternly.

“Alright, alright. I’ll figure something out.”

Fortunately they’ve happened to stop within walking distance of something called The Trinity Site, according to the map. Camelopardalis and Cass go ahead to check another stop off the list while Zeta and Herc clean up the van and make sure Andromeda isn’t actually dying. (How embarrassing, to be a quasi-immortal astral being only to perish at the hands of a tainted twinkie.)

They wander from the roadside, following the map and occasional signposts, and shortly find themselves standing in front of an ominous looking stone obelisk with a bronze placard affixed to one side.

Trinity Site: Where the world’s first nuclear device was exploded on July 16th, 1945

There’s more but Cass stops reading. Camelopardalis asks her to explain what the plaque means by nuclear device-- they’re familiar with nuclear power as a concept, fission and fusion, ideas not far departed from the system of energy exchange that sustains their natural bodies in the heart of their stars-- but goes pale when she goes into the relevant applications of said devices.

“Wonderful,” she grumbles to herself as she snaps a few photos of the monument with a disposable camera. “I’m sure Percy will be thrilled.”

“Excuse me.”

The pair turn to see a man in a colorful button-up and khakis and a woman with a day-old sunburn peeling off beneath the straps of her tank top.

“Boy are we happy t’see the two of yous. Couldja take our picture real quick?”

The woman holds out a camera, a significantly more professional piece of equipment than the one Cass is holding.

“Oh, sure,” Cass replies. She’s nervous as she takes it from her hands. She’s never encountered this sub-species of human in her research before, and finds it difficult to parse the woman’s peculiar dialect. Both of them are smiling, but they’re also showing a lot more teeth (and a fair bit of gum) than she thinks is normal. A subtle threat?

Nevertheless, she fumbles with the camera for a moment before managing to take a decent snapshot. The man wraps an arm around his wife’s waist and she slots herself in against his side.

“Ope, wait, let’s do a silly one to send to Marsha and the kids. Were my eyes closed? No? Perfect, you’re a doll. We’ll leave you kids alone now.”

“Sure,” she says again, feeling out of pace.

“My nephew wears his hair like that,” the man says without segway. He’s talking to Camelopardalis, they realize. “It’s very… hip.”

They touch their hair. They hadn’t given it much thought before, might not ever have if he hadn’t pointed it out. It’s nice, they think.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

His expression flinches into a puzzled frown. Cass smacks their arm.

“Sir! Thank you, sir.”

After they’ve walked away Cass gives him another jab for good measure.

“His hair was longer than the other one’s,” they complain. “And the chest was sort of fleshy. How was I supposed to know?”

“We’re lucky you didn’t cause an incident. Earthers carry weapons in this part of the world.”

They rub their arm. “I don’t know, they seemed nice.”

Still they give a fleeting glance at the plaque behind them and argue no more.

They return to the van, now blessedly puke-free. Andromeda is looking better too. They all pile in and almost immediately Camelopardalis misses the freedom of being able to move without touching somebody. It may be their imagination, but the car seems to be moving slower than ever.

“How was it?” Zeta asks, despite her obvious disinterest.

“Uninspiring,” is Cass’ reply.

The other nods and doesn’t force her to elaborate. “I wish I knew what Perseus intended for us with this… chore list.”

“It’s not important, we just do it.”

Herc is always a steady presence, but even he is starting to sound annoyed with repeating himself. Zeta, of course, can’t leave well enough alone.

“If we just knew what he wanted us to do or say we could do it and go back to how we were before.”

Cass snaps. “Maybe you should stop complaining and make an effort for once.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The car erupts into a heated four-way argument. Only Hercules resolutely abstains from comment, though his hands tighten into fists on the steering wheel. The fight doesn’t end in resolution so much as exhaustion. Everyone’s too miserable to keep hurling accusations and insults for the next hundred miles, and at length they lapse back into tense silence.

Zeta rests her head against the window, taking the arythmic rattle into herself, breathing it out in silent, frenetic melodies. She dislikes fighting with her siblings, no matter what they might claim to the contrary. It doesn’t happen often, or didn’t, but things have been different since Percy left home. The littlest star-child had a natural soothing presence to him, one that she’d long taken for granted. Earth is so noisy, she thinks. She strains to listen but she can’t hear a trace of him anywhere.

She tries to imagine what he’d say, if he were here.

“What are we even doing?”

Probably not that, but she already has everyone’s attention now so she figures she might as well keep going.

“I mean, we’re still behind schedule, we can’t stop bickering, Andromeda can’t even eat right apparently, and I’m pretty sure half of us didn’t even look at Cassiopeia’s brief.”

“Are you getting to a point?” Cass asks irritably.

“I’m just saying we’re all… bitches.”

“Zeta!”

“Get comfortable with it! We’re all bad at this. Me, you, all of us. So can we just stop blaming each other and have a truce in the interest of getting this over with?”

Cass opens her mouth, then lets it fall shut, sinking back into her seat. For a moment it seems they’re heading for another long awkward silence, when Andromeda sits up and points out the window with a sudden urgency.

“Look!”

Herc slows down and they see a billboard lit up in eerie green neon light, directing them to the next off-ramp.

Must see attraction! Visit the one of a kind Ancient Aliens Exhibit!

The star-folk look at one another.

“Is this what they call a tourist trap?”

“It seems likely.”

Andromeda is glowing-- in a very literal sense-- with excitement. “It’s an exhibit about us.”

“‘Ancient’? Speak for yourself, I’m still only in my six-thousands.”

Needless to say, they do stop at the roadside museum. Cass takes pictures aplenty and, to her surprise, actually enjoys it. Andromeda is disappointed to find there isn’t actually a display dedicated to their kind. Instead there are a lot of grainy photos of some squat, bug-eyed species called “greys” and diagrams of the Egyptian pyramids for some reason. He gets over it by the time they get to the gift shop.

By unanimous decision, they do not buy anymore snacks, though Zeta’s eye does linger on a cooler in the corner advertising “the ice cream of the future!”. Herc does however buy a number of souvenirs. (Rather, he convinces the automated register to record a purchase that didn’t technically take place, and bumps up the number in the bank account of one very nice tour guide while he’s at it.)

They leave with a mood ring, a handful of polished stones in a small velvet bag, a “gravity defying” purple yo-yo shaped like a UFO, and Camelopardalis sheepishly lays claim to a friendly looking martian figurine with bendable limbs. Overall, spirits are much higher by the time they make it back to the van.

“Hercules,” his meek younger sibling ventures. “Could I try driving? I’ve been curious about it.”

Feeling generous and more than a little tired of staring out at the road for hours at a time, he agrees. He shows Camelopardalis the basics and makes sure they know how not to veer off the road or into other drivers and then he climbs into the middle backseat and stretches out his arms so the siblings on either side of him can tuck in against him and rest. Eventually even the diligent navigator Cassiopeia begins to doze. It’s been a long day and none of them are quite accustomed to the burden of having earthbound bodies.

When Andromeda wakes up the first thing he registers is that it’s getting dark, the day reduced to a slim red band sinking over the horizon. The second thing is the yelling.

“What do you mean you don’t know!”

“I thought I could read the map myself--”

“What about you, navigator? What were you doing?”

“--didn’t mean to--”

“As if you’re one to talk! I can’t believe--”

“--and you were the one who--”

“Shut up!”

Hercules’ normally subdued baritone booms through the van. The windshield wipers begin swinging as if in indignation, while the passengers wince and cover their ears. Andromeda can’t remember a time when his brother’s frequency had felt so violent. The shivering resonance it leaves behind makes his teeth ache.

There’s a pregnant pause, then Cass slams open the door and begins to pace.

“Shit!” she yells at the empty air. They’re parked in a field somewhere, no sign of life save for the buzzing of insects and the rumble of a train somewhere off in the distance. Cass kicks at the ground and screams again. “Shit fuck bitch hell! We are so fucking lost! And so fucking late!”

Andromeda winces again and gets out to try and calm her. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It is not! We’re probably missing the ceremony right now. Percy will never forgive me for this.”

“It wasn’t your fault…”

“I’m supposed to be the navigator!”

“Well, yes, but…” The words come out strangled. He touches his chest and realizes he’s breathing rapidly. His eyes are beginning to water as well. “I should’ve… I didn’t…”

Zeta hurries over to him. “What’s wrong? Are you going to be sick again?”

Without warning he doubles over and begins bawling.

“Hercules, do something! Something’s wrong with him!”

“Don’t… don’t… don’t…” he gasps and stammers.

Herc clutches his brother. “Don’t what? Talk to me.”

“Don’t fight,” he finally chokes out. “I don’t want to lose anybody else.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Percy,” he sniffles miserably. “He doesn’t care about us anymore. He has earth now, and all his new earth friends, and we can’t even do this one thing for him. It’s my fault. I knew he hated when I called him a dissonant note and made fun of his earth music but I did it anyway. Now he probably hates me and all of us and this whole thing has been for nothing.”

The eldest braces his arms on Andromeda’s slumped shoulders. “Percy doesn’t hate us. He invited us here because he wanted to see us.”

“Herc’s right, Andromeda. Percy doesn’t have it in him to hate anyone.”

“It’s not easy, but he chose this. He chose earth. We have to respect that.”

Zeta grumbles, “And just what is so special about this stupid planet anyway?”

“It has cats,” Cassiopeia says quietly. Her sister glares but she stays firm. “Well it does. And… people.”

“Strange, silly earth people,” Camelopardalis adds, nervously fussing with their hair. “Confusing and contradictory and fascinating.”

“People who hurt each other for no good reason.”

“People who are kind for no good reason too.”

Andromeda wipes phosphorous tears from his eyes and takes out the rumpled gas-station paperback. “In this book Austin leaves his job as a big city lawyer to follow the cowboy he’s in love with.”

“You think Perseus traveled to earth for cowboy love?”

“It’s a possibility!”

Cass scoffs. “I honestly don’t think he was thinking that far ahead. You know Percy. He probably crash-landed without any plan whatsoever. Or, he probably thought he knew what he was doing, and then when he actually got there he was terrified. And then he probably didn’t want to say anything because he was afraid his siblings would think less of him once they realized he was actually just as clueless about earth stuff as they were. That would probably be really, really stressful for him.”

“Are we still talking about Percy?”

She makes a wordless noise of frustration and kicks up another patch of grass.

Andromeda puts an arm around her. “If… Percy was worried about that, I’d tell her-- him! I’d tell him that he shouldn’t be, because there’s nothing he could do that would make us stop believing in him.”

She exhales. “Thanks.”

“I was talking about you, Cass,” he whispers. “It’s you I believe in.”

“Thank you, I got that.”

“I just… miss him, I guess.”

Herc hums in agreement. “Barely a millennium old and he’s already grown up and gone completely terrestrial. This past century has been the longest of my existence.”

“Hercules, it’s only been ten years.”

That news causes him to make such a face that Zeta starts laughing. It’s the first time she’s so much as cracked a smile the entire trip.

“So… what do we do now?” Camelopardalis asks.

After a moment, Cass grabs the map off the dashboard and holds it open.

“A little more light please?”

They step up behind her and hold a glowing hand over the paper. Her brow creases in concentration.

“Alright, I think we’re somewhere around here,” She gestures. “And we need to be here. There’s no way we’re going to show up on time, but we can still show up. We owe him that much.”

They get in their seats, Herc back at the helm, and begin trying to reclaim the distance they lost with the unplanned detour. Cass breathes a sigh of relief when road signs start to reappear. A driver honks at them as they pick up speed and Herc steers closer and makes their radio start playing at top volume. Zeta opens the window and a cool night breeze tickles her skin. The stars are bright and beautiful above them, and looking up, suddenly home doesn’t feel so far away.

All at once they slow to a near stop.

“What’s going on? Why are we stopping?”

“Traffic,” Herc says like it’s a curse. “Looks like there was an accident.”

“Take this exit,” Cass commands. “We can cut through the next town and get ahead of it.”

So he does and soon they find themselves driving through the quiet streets of Kismet, Nevada. That is, quiet until Zeta catches sight of something out the window and yells, “Pull over!”

“What! What is it now!”

She points, and they see. The sign ahead reads, “Diane’s Diner: Home of the World’s Best Pie”. They pull in so fast they nearly end up colliding with a stout aproned woman who’s pushing a teetering hand cart across the lot.

“What do you maniacs think you’re doing?” she demands as they clambour out of the van.

“I’m very sorry, ma’am,” Cass says in a rush. “It is just very important to my siblings and I that we get to this establishment.”

The woman huffs. “You’re a mite late then, I’m afraid. We’re closing up early tonight. Got a big catering order I have to deliver.”

Herc asks, “Are you Diane, of the diner?”

She laughs. “Close. I’m Maddie Finkle of the diner. Diane’s my mother’s name. It’s a family business. But what brings you folks here looking for Diane at this time of night? I don’t think I’ve seen your faces around town before, and I always remember a customer.”

“Do you remember a customer named Percy? It would’ve been years ago, but this place was very important to him. He’s our brother.”

Maddie’s eyes light up. “Why didn’t you say so! Of course I know Percy. And if you rowdy lot are his siblings, then I’ve got a message for you.”

“A message?” Percy hadn’t said anything to them about a message. Maybe this was his way of ensuring they actually made it to the last stop on his list.

“Well, sort of. Come, come, help me load up all this grub and I’ll tell you everything.”

Herc and Zeta go to either side of her and help push the wobbly cart to a truck with the diner’s logo emblazoned on the side. As they load the boxes, Maddie speaks.

“I first met your Percy when I was just a waitress, mama still working the kitchen. One day this kid walks in, looking as lost as can be, comes straight up to the counter and tells me he’s just fallen from outer space and could use some assistance.” She barks a laugh. “I didn’t go for the whole alien thing but that second part was a lot more believable. He looked a mess. I asked if he needed something to eat but he just said he needed a safe place to rest for a moment. He’d been on his feet all day, walking and hitchhiking his way clear across the desert.

“Of course I wanted to know where he was going that was so important, but he said he didn’t know for sure yet. Said he was following a melody, a song he’d heard from very far away that had drawn him to this place. I told him I couldn’t help him there. The only music we had in the diner was this old stereo system mama had put in when she first opened the place and it was long broken. Mama was too sentimental to get rid of the old thing and the repairman couldn’t do anything for it so broken it stayed.

“He asked me to show him so I did, figuring it couldn’t hurt anything. Then that kid walked up to the busted speaker and just like that it started playing again like it was new. I told him, ‘For that, I owe you more than a place to rest your legs. Stay in town for a while, let us put you up and get you back on your feet, or at least let me drive you to the train station so you can get where you’re going.’ But he refused, and before long he was gone again.

“Then, not a couple days later, spaceboy comes back traveling with this other kid, heading in the opposite direction. I ask him what happened and he says he was going one way but he changed his mind and turned around. He leans in like he’s sharing a great big secret, like we’ve been friends all our lives, and says, ‘I found it, Maddie. I found the song.’ Weirdest kid I’ve ever met! But they make a cute couple, him and that boy, and they’re some of my best customers to this day.”

They finish packing up the truck, Maddie leaning leisurely against the fender as she reminisces. Herc frowns, confused.

“Was that the message?”

“Yup.” She pops the P. “He just told me to tell you the story. Not sure why. I mean, it’s a good story, I think. But you already know all about it, right? You’re his family after all.”

“No, he never told us,” he admits softly.

“Huh. Weird. But then, he’s kind of a weird kid, yeah? I always wondered, is it all you aliens who talk in riddles like that, or just him?”

“I thought you said you didn’t believe his claims.”

“I didn’t the first time, but if your Percy’s one thing it’s… Perc-istent.” When no one laughs, she pushes onward. “Well, that’s all of it. We’d better get a move on, huh?”

“‘We’?”

“Sure, aren’t you folks on your way to Percy’s place too? I figured you’d be staying over, and I gotta get everything set up for the wedding tomorrow.”

A palpable shock ripples through the star-folk. “Tomorrow?”

“‘Course, what did you think all this was for?” She pats the truck. “I wanted to get everything ready ahead of time so we’re good to go in the morning. It’s not easy being the caterer and providing my lovely self as a guest on the same day, but I couldn’t let those sweet boys down.”

Andromeda slumps over, leaning on Herc for support. “Percy told us the wedding was tonight.”

The chef raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like someone’s been having a little fun with you. Nah, they’re doing some sort of get-together tonight since neither one of the bachelors wanted a bachelor party, but the actual wedding ceremony’s definitely not until tomorrow.”

“I’m going to end him,” Cass mutters under her breath.

“Hurry up now,” she says. “I’m sure the groom-to-be’s expecting you.”

The five follow Maddie’s truck away from the main drags, away from the buildings, the scenery becoming gradually greener as the road turns from asphalt to gravel. At last they find themselves pulling up in front of the house that Percy has come to call home. It’s a raised ranch, flanked by evergreens and patchwork plots of small white and yellow flowers that Percy’s fiance must have planted, and a tower of plastic chairs and tables covered by a tarp.

It’s a nice place, large and somewhat secluded, set apart from the noise of traffic or threat of nosy human neighbors. Percy’s sensitive to loud noise and, after all, still an alien living in secret amongst humanity. Yet as they get out and follow the caterer where she’s cutting around back through the garden, they’re struck by the sounds of laughter and music and lively chatter.

A group of earthers are gathered on the patio, smiling faces lit by a string of twinkling lights. A man with a guitar strums along with the music coming from inside.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Andromeda whispers.

“You think there’s a second Perseus Nine about to be married in this town?” Cass shoots back.

Zeta hisses, “Quiet, I can hear him.”

To his surprise, Herc can too. Above the noise, laced into everything he touches, there is a resonance, his baby brother’s unique personal frequency. To describe it as sound alone would perhaps be inaccurate; it’s a vibration, an echo. Percy is everywhere in this place: his whispers and his shouts, his twinkling laugh, but also the part of him that no human being can detect, the part of him that is still, and will always be, of the stars.

He must sense them too, because in that moment he appears standing in the doorway, bathed in its yellow light. His face breaks out in a glowing grin and he runs to greet them, bolting like a comet being pulled into his siblings’ orbit.

“You made it!” he exclaims.

Zeta snorts and allows him to throw his arms around her. “No thanks to you and your list of demands.”

“You brat,” Cass accuses. “You told us the ceremony was tonight.”

Percy tilts his head to look at her, his expression not half as guilty as it should be. For a moment she reels at the sight of him; the body he’s constructed for himself has aged since the last time they crossed paths. It’s subtle, the way his dimples have deepened into true laugh lines, and his hair has grown ever longer, though it also isn’t as tangled as she remembers. He is still himself, underneath, the light of his true being faintly visible beneath the skin.

“I was worried if I told you the real date you wouldn’t make it in time. You’re not used to traveling the human way. It can be messy.”

She grimaces. “You’re not wrong.”

“You’re actually here way earlier than I thought you’d be.” His smile falters, only slightly. “This is… everyone?”

Herc swallows. “The others…” he begins, but quickly finds he doesn’t have the words that should follow.

“Well, it’s not like I had enough chairs for all two-hundred-ninety-seven of them anyway.” He reaches out and squeezes his brothers tightly. “Hercules, Andromeda, It’s so wonderful to see you. Camelopardalis, Cassiopeia, it means so much to me that you came. I know it probably wasn’t easy. Zeta…”

She scoffs. “The only hard part was putting up with these bitches.”

Hercules interjects, “We shouldn’t keep you from your party. Go on, I need to get some things from the van.”

“You didn’t bring presents, did you?”

“It’s customary for weddings, is it not?”

Percy grins. “You’re becoming a real expert on earth customs.”

He shrugs and looks at Cass. “I just read the brief.”

Percy invites his family in, along with Maddie, who is perfectly tickled by the siblings’ awkward affection. After helping her bring in the food, Percy beckons over the man with the guitar.

“Adam!”

The man looks up. He has a boyish, freckled face and a head of dark curls that spill over his brow. He sets down the instrument and comes to slot himself against Percy’s side, thoughtlessly, as if that was always where he was meant to be.

“I’d like to formally introduce you to my fiance, Adam. And Adam, this is my family.”

His smile broadens. “Hey, great to finally really meet you guys. Percy talks about you all the time. Did you have a long trip?”

They look at one another for a moment until finally Herc shrugs and says, “Only about twenty-five trillion miles, give or take.”

The happy couple linger for a moment longer, sharing stories and talking about honeymoon plans. Adam is especially thrilled when Andromeda and Zeta begin to co-narrate an embarrassing tale from Percy’s childhood in the Alpha Persei Cluster. Eventually though the pair wander off together, leaving the star-folk to their most harrowing challenge yet: mingling.

“Sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Camelopardalis.”

The guest, one of the couple’s mutual friends, goes a bit bug-eyed. “Wow, okay, that’s really cool. Kind of a mouthful though. Got a nickname?”

“Nick… name?”

“Like, something that your friends call you for short. My friends call me Dee, but my highschool nickname was Dent.” They point to a scar on the side of their head, just above their left ear. Their fair hair is buzzed short, making it easy to see. “Long story. What if for now I called you ‘Cam’?”

They consider it. “I think I’d like that.”

“Cool, nice to meet you, Cam.”

“Nice to meet you, Dee.” They hesitate. “Would you say you’re a man or a woman?”

Dee frowns.

“Nevermind! I’m so sorry, I just don’t understand the earth gender binary at all. Everything about it just seems so arbitrary and senseless.”

Oddly enough, their new friend perks back up at this.

“Honestly, same,” they laugh.

Andromeda joins shortly, having struck up a conversation with Dee’s partner who is deeply intrigued by his review of “The Chest from The West”. The three of them spend a while swapping book recommendations. Meanwhile, Zeta gets hit on by a slightly intoxicated young woman with an undercut and an eyebrow ring, although the star-dweller vastly misinterprets her none-too-subtle questioning about alien biology. Cass meets Adam and Percy’s pet dog, Chowder, and deems him as good a companion as the convenience store cat.

Herc catches Percy alone in the kitchen and the two have a long overdue talk. It’s clumsy but earnest, and when Herc mumbles something out about possible future family visits, Percy throws himself into his brother with such vigor that he momentarily forgets about gravity and starts to float off the ground.

“I’m sorry too, by the way, for the whole thing with the list,” he sighs. “It probably seems pretty stupid, I just kind of hoped I could get you to see this world the way I see it. Full of life and love and adventure.”

“And music,” he finishes, catching the way his gaze flits back to the patio. To Adam, singing softly and dancing with one of their friends.

He nods. “I thought maybe then you’d understand why this is so important to me.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to see earth the way you do,” Hercules confesses. “But I don’t think it was stupid of you to try either, and I don’t think it was for nothing.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the mood ring. The friendly prismatic face of a cartoon alien glints up at him. Perseus takes the gift with an understanding chuckle and slips it onto his pinky finger.

“No, not for nothing.”

Tomorrow, there will be a wedding. Percy and Adam will stand in front of their friends and family and exchange their vows. Adam’s mother will complain about them not booking a proper venue for just short of an annoying amount of time, Maddie will bring out a ridiculously tall tier cake that will taste almost as good as one of her mother’s pies, and for once Percy will not be the worst one on the dance floor.

Tomorrow, there will be a bright silver band around Percy’s fourth finger, neighbored by a smaller ring in the shape of an inside joke, and with all the weight of a promise.

#aliens #original fiction #writeblr #short story #original writing #road trip #me? posting my writing again? its more likely than u think #lgbt #my writing

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keelywolfe · 4 years

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FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.11 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch finally has Edge's address, but as always seems to happen in this town, answering one question only makes two more spring up to take its place.

Read ‘Unconventional Wisdom’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

The dog spent all morning napping behind the counter, not rising for broom bristles nudging him nor Stretch stepping over him awkwardly so he could grab a few boxes from the top shelf to fill up the front racks. He did snore loud enough to be heard over the radio, but eh, so did Red so Stretch was used to it.

It wasn’t until the jangling cowbell over the door heralded the arrival of a group of kids that the pup gave up on his snoring and wandering out to inspect the new arrivals, tail already happily wagging. Predictably, the kiddos were enamored of their newest employee, although guard dog might be overstating things a bit. Okay, maybe a lot; it looked like Red hadn’t been able to get back to sleep last night because the once-filthy dog with a mess of tangled fur was now freshly washed and brushed, and he smelled a lot like the shower gel from Red’s bathroom. Cleaned up, he was a handsome dog, looking as fluffy as an enormous toasted marshmallow. Not exactly threatening, fluffykins here was probably gonna spend most of his shift on moral support duty.

The little girl who was currently the main recipient of the dog’s enthusiastic face licking giggled and asked, “What’s his name?”

“uh.” That gave Stretch a pause. He shrugged. “doesn’t have a name yet, i’ll have to ask red what he thinks.”

“Should name him Rover,” one boy put in helpfully.

Another boy chimed in, “Or Bingo!”

“Cheeseburger!” A little gal firmly declared as though no other name would do and Stretch couldn’t help laughing.

“is that a name suggestion or a lunch request?” he teased. All the kids giggled, including the one who’d suggested the name and Stretch gave one of her pigtails a gentle tug. “tell you what, here.” He pulled out a pad of paper from under the counter, flipped past the pages filled with inventory lists and cribbage scores to a blank one and wrote carefully at the top, ‘Name Our Dog’. He set it in one corner of the counter triumphantly, “there! now anyone can suggest a name and red can choose the best one.”

All the kids seemed in agreement that this was the best course of action, each taking a turn to scribble their suggestion on the sheet. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if ‘Cheeseburger’ was at the top of Red’s picks.

The kids eventually abandoned the dog and started a round of intense negotiations over what penny treats to buy today. Stretch left them to it, settling to sit on the stool to wait for them to bring up their selections to the register. His mind wandered idly back to newest side quest: getting to 637 Wood’s End Drive.

He’d already tried to look the address up on his phone’s GPS and wasn’t too surprised to see that it didn’t come up, naw, that would be too easy. So, first was figuring out how to get there and second would be figuring out how to get there. Not like he had a car and somehow, he doubted that Backwater had a thriving Uber economy. Maybe he could hitch a lift with someone? People were always coming into town in those big ol’ pickup trucks and the folks around here were pretty friendly, plus Edge seemed to be pretty well known. They all probably knew exactly where Edge lived and stopped by for pie and tea all the time. Surely someone would be delighted to help out, particularly if they were one of the lookie-loos from Mama’s who wanted to see Stretch and Edge on another man date, thank-you-but-no-thank-you.

That would probably be the easiest way to go about it, but Stretch found he was strangely reluctant to take that route. It felt a little like cheating, considering the roundabout way Edge went about handed out his address.

Anyway, if he’d wanted to go down that path, he could’ve simply asked Red days ago, but that right there was an entirely different can of worms that he didn’t want to share with any of the early birds. Red never forbade him from hanging out with Edge, but he’d been pretty clear time and again that he wasn’t too keen on it, either. Might be best if he kept any mentions of Edge to a minimum unless Red brought him up first.

He’d just figure it out himself, thanks, and he wasn’t any puzzle master, not like his bro was, but he had a little pride buried around here somewhere. Edge set him a challenge, damn it, and he was gonna see it through.

His absent gaze strayed down to the pile of bicycles outside the store, kid-sized, sure, but hey, wait a second—

“hey, guys,” Stretch said slowly, and the debate on whether to get two packs of everlasting gobstoppers or three paused as a half-dozen heads perked up like prairie dogs from a sugary plain. “if i wanted to buy a bicycle around here, where would i go?”

Heads ducked down again in a hastily whispered conversation, then the spokeskid popped up again and said, decisively, “Try over at the thrift shop. Miss Maggie always has old bikes for sale.”

“thanks.” He should’ve known. The only other option right in town was the tractor supply shop and while driving up on a John Deere would make a hell of an impression, it was probably well out of his price range. The kids crowded over with their handfuls of spoils and Stretch dutifully rang them up and if he tossed in a dime of his own to cover them, eh, wasn’t like they’d ever know. He handed over a paper sack of treats to a chorus of thank yous and the divvying began before the kiddos even got out of the shop.

“Oh, Edgar Allen said to tell you hi!” One little girl called back to him. She was gone out of the door before he could even think of a reply, all of them clamoring onto their bikes, their faces chipmunk-cheeked with their spoils.

Edgar Allen, shit, yeah, that was right. He’d pretty much been the first stop on this questline and Stretch’d been meaning to do something for him. He’d already rethought the magazine idea; what if it turned out that scarecrows couldn’t read, kinda insensitive there. He’d have to think of something, though, owing someone didn’t sit well with him even if that person didn’t qualify for traditionally alive.

In the meantime, the dog, bereft of childish companionship, wandered back behind the counter and flopped down with a huff, sighing deeply.

“yeah, go on and take a break,” Stretch told him, “you were working pretty hard there.” He stretched out a leg to pet the dog carefully with his foot and wasn’t too surprised that it didn’t care one bit about his shoe, only pliantly rolled over to give him better access to the belly region.

Stretch obediently kept petting, hell, he obeyed better than the dog. But his thoughts were still on the upcoming journey to 637 Wood’s End Drive.

~~*~~

Red relieved him in the shop a little later than normal, looking a lot like he’d just hauled ass out of bed. His shirt was the same one as earlier, only with a fresh crop of wrinkles and his eye lights were still bleary with exhaustion.

Almost, Stretch offered to stay later and let Red get a little more sleep, considering it was his fault Red got woken up in the middle of night. But the baleful glare Red sent his way was an unspoken warning that such an offer probably wasn’t gonna go over well. He kept his jaw shut tight and took the paper sandwich bag Red handed over before heading out the door. Time to get this side quest rolling, literally, he hoped.

The few times he’d met Magdalen May he’d figured right from the get-go that she, like Red, was a partaker of the Sheriff’s son’s prize cannabis crop. Not only because of her dreamy demeanor but also whenever she came into the store, she was surrounded by an almost visible cloud of pot stank so strong that Stretch got a contact buzz while she was shopping through the meagre selection of yarn that Red kept. By the time she left, Stretch would have a craving for Cheetos so strong he’d be ready to start gnawing on his fingerbones for a cronch.

Stepping into the thrift shop was a little like hot boxing in a hoarder’s closet but Stretch soldiered on, squinting as his vision adjusted from the bright light of day to a dimness barely above attic-levels. He went past shelves of gewgaws and boxes of dusty records, old clothes hanging from racks that looked like they’d been commandeered from a lot of remaindered furniture. There were tables piled high with ancient radios, cameras, electronics that Stretch didn’t know the name of and surely didn’t work, existing only to be parted out by an amateur scientist or an electrician in search of cheap parts. Antique glass was set high on the shelves, catching dusty light and sending a kaleidoscope of color to scatter over the room, freckling it in greens, reds, and yellows.

The entire store radiated a glorious sort of chaos and if it weren’t for the fact that he already felt a little woozy, he would’ve stayed for a while and poked through some of the wares. Maybe even find a new book for Red buried in the nearby piles, see if he’d be willing branch out into cowboy romance for a change.

He heading to the back of the shop where Miss Maggie was sitting in a rocking chair surrounded by boxes and shelves, knitting with flashing speed despite the foggy miasma hanging in the air. Her long white hair was smoothly braided and pinned up on top of her head, her weathered skin tanned dark and leathery. The weave of bright yellow yarn trailing from her needles was spread across her lap in an incongruous contrast to her dark, billowing skirt and the light sweater she wore against the chill of the air conditioning.

“Hello, Papyrus,” she greeted him with the sort of rough, croaky voice made over the years by a thousand packs of Marlboros. She didn’t look up, her attention completely focused on her knit and purl.

That gave him one hell of a pause. “how did you—” Stretch stopped. Great, he was in the soothsayer chapter and hadn’t even had time to prep. Yeah, okay, he didn’t really have any room in his life for another side quest, maybe let this one go. He didn’t actually want to know where she got her intel, not really, especially not with his head already spinning a little. He stuck his hands in his pockets to hide the way they wanted to curl into fists, rocking back and forth on his heels. “heya. i haven’t gone by papyrus in years, it’s stretch, thanks.”

“A wise choice,” Miss Maggie said. She sounded…different, somehow. He’d talked to her a few times now and strangely, today he couldn’t seem to place her accent. It wasn’t like the other townsfolk, all of them had a certain warm, down-homey charm, and usually so did she. Her words today were crisp, sharp-edged, nothing like the dreamy peace he was familiar with when she came into the store for coffee creamer and vanilla wafers. She glanced up at him over the wire rims of her glasses, her gaze as sharp as her tongue. “Names have power. A wise man keeps his true name to himself.”

“um. sure,” Stretch couldn’t stop himself from giving the door a longing glance. This was starting to seem like a bad idea, Miss Maggie seemed to be having a personality crisis, maybe he should come back after lunch. “that’s some very handy wisdom, but i’m here about a bike?”

She ignored that. “You have issues with names,” Miss Maggie told him. She kept knitting, needles flashing furiously in a rhythmic clickity-clack as steady as a metronome. “don’t you.”

“huh?” Stretch didn’t exactly have any flesh to get goosebumps with, but he felt a chill nonetheless, prickling maddeningly over his bones. His head was whirling, everything around him seemed to blur except the old woman in front of him. His tongue felt strangely thick as he whispered a question he didn’t want to ask, “i don’t…what do you mean?”

“Mmm, yes,” Miss Maggie sighed out, “so many names you’ve had and rejected. Had and left behind when you ran away, far, far away.”

“stop,” Stretch said weakly. His soul was starting to pulse with aching intensity behind his breastbone. The room filled with an electric heaviness like a coming storm, the rich green smell filling the room suddenly nauseating. “please, don’t.”

“Brother, lover, yes, but never father, not even once.”

“shut up,” Stretch said thickly. Or tried to, the words seemed to clot and stick at the back of his throat, refusing to travel over his useless tongue.

“And now you’re taking on new names,” she raised her head, and here in the dim, her eyes seemed like dark pools of pure blackness that reflected nothing of the flickering overhead lights. Her grin seemed unpleasant and wide, showing pale pink gums in an endless maw. “Is it friend you seek or something else, I wonder?”

As she turned towards him, her sleeve caught on the sugar bowl set on the table next to her, sending it tumbling to the floor. The burst of sound as it shattered pushed through his dazed distance like the snap of dry twig broken over a knee. Stretch jerked, blinking hard, and all the nebulous emotion in him surged forward, gathering and coalescing into real anger. He was starting to get sick of this shit, if everyone in town wanted to act like this place was Sleepy Hollow’s second-cousin, that was fine by him. He was happy to play along, but not if they were gonna keep sticking their shovels into his past to see what other skeletons they could dig up.

“look, fuck you,” Stretch snapped out. He turned back to the door, tossing over his shoulder. “never mind, i’ll figure out something else!”

“Wait!” And he didn’t want to wait, he wanted to push on through the door, but his stubborn feet suddenly refused to move. Miss Maggie clumsily thrust aside her knitting, hardly noticing her teacup wobbling, spilling tea and leaves out into her saucer in a wild splash. That funky weird woman vibe abruptly eased and so did some of the stench in the air, flavored instead with lavender tea. She waddled over to him, her long skirt dragging on the floor. Even bent over with age, she was impressively tall, hardly shorter than Stretch was, and he was a mini-skyscraper to most Humans. She looked up at him, her eyes a watery, pale blue, surrounded by a sea of wrinkles, how could he ever have imagined they were anything else?

Miss Maggie reached up to touch his cheekbone with fingers nearly as thin as his own.

“Oh, sweet child,” she said with mournful gentleness, and her voice was the smoky-sweet, grandmotherly one he recalled. “S’all right. Ain’t nothing wrong with setting aside a name you’ve outgrown, nor in taking on a new one.”

All his bright, burning anger collapsed inwardly, a card house with the center support removed, and hurt welled in him instead. He was crying, he realized distantly, tears stinging in his sockets, running down his cheekbones to gather on wetly his chin. He didn’t realize he was going to speak until he did, choking out, “it feels wrong.”

“How you feel and how things are don’t always match,” she agreed. She held out her arms, her gnarled hands open to him and Stretch leaned into them, burying his face in the soft, knitted shawl draped over her shoulder. She smelled like weed and lavender, a strange, exotic mixture. “i’ll get you all wet,” Stretch mumbled, muffled into the cloth.

She petted his skull gently, “It’s all right, child. I’ll dry.”

He held on tightly for a long time and when she finally drew back, she lightly touched his forehead with the tips of two dry fingers.

“You can get to his home through the forest,” she said, and it seemed to Stretch he could almost see it, clear as a picture someplace behind his sight. “Follow the exchange down about a mile, you’ll see a turnoff on the left. Don’t you stray from the path, you hear me, sonny?” Those pale, rheumy eyes searched his face for understanding. “Easy to get lost out there.”

“i won’t.”

“Good.” She let him go and shuffled back to her chair to picked up her knitting again. “Now, you mentioned something about a bike.”

For a moment, Stretch stood there, practically wobbling on his feet. He felt like he’d woken up from an unexpected nap, still floating in between the sleeping and waking worlds. Then he blinked, snapping awake, and looked around almost wildly. Until his gaze snagging on one of the shelves, or more specifically, something sitting on it, and held.

“a bike, i did.” Stretch walked over to the shelf where a bandana was sitting, a bright turkey-red plaid, and picked it up, holding it out for Miss Maggie to see. “how much for this, too?”

By the time he left the shop, he was in a fine mood despite his savings being a little lighter. He was pushing a rattly old bike with a squeaky chain and a horn that let loose with a hoarse ‘awhooga’ when the dusty rubber bulb was squeezed. The bandana was stuffed into his short’s pocket and the first thing he was gonna do was deal with that, then he’d worry about some maintenance. Probably better to find out if his new bike was streetworthy before taking his act on the road.

He used the walk back to the store to draw in a few deep, refreshing breaths of the heat-smoggy air, letting it clear his head.

“miss maggie sure smokes some strong shit,” Stretch muttered to himself. He left the bike leaning against the porch around back and headed over to the main road, taking his normal walking route down towards the corn. There were no kids on the makeshift baseball diamond today, looked like they’d headed off somewhere else to enjoy their penny candy.

The grass was yellowed and dying under his sneakers as he went off the beaten path, heading towards the rustling corn. Was it his imagination, or did those whispers get louder as he approached, even eager? The corn got lonely sometimes, Edgar Allen had said, but it didn’t mean any harm.

Somehow, he didn’t think the skeleton they’d found in the fields back in Doris’s day would agree.

“um, hi?” Stretch tried. There was no one around to see him and he still felt ridiculous, talking to the damn corn. “look, i dunno if you can understand me, but if you do, could you see that edgar allen gets this? i wanted to thank him for helping me out and i thought it’d look good on him.”

Carefully, he laid the bandana over a crux of green leaves and stalk, tugging to make sure it wouldn’t simply blow away. He left it there and turned back to town, hoping that the scarecrow got the message; as much as he wanted to thank the guy, he really didn’t feel like taking a second go in the corn maze to do it. He didn’t look back until he got back to the side of the road and there he paused, frowning. The splash of red should’ve been vivid against the sea of green but there was nothing, not so much as a glimpse.

He craned his neck, searching, but it hadn’t fallen to the ground and the wind wasn’t strong enough to carry it off. Maybe the corn had gotten the message after all? Yeah, he was going with that, and he headed back to take a look at his new bike, hands in his pockets and whistling cheerfully, which was a heck of a trick for someone without lips.

Yeah, he felt pretty good today and why not? He had a place to stay, a job, someone looking after him, and a dog. And now he had a bike. Things were looking up, Stretch decided.

Things were looking up.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #welcome to backwater

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alecmagnuslwb · 4 years

Text

Young Fools

Writer’s Month 2020 Day Twenty-Nine

Read on AO3

“And lastly with the Salem witch trials, Zatara and Constantine,” the teacher says just before the bell rings. John startles from where he’d definitely been napping through most of class.

Oh fuck, he thinks first, because group projects are absolutely not his thing. And double oh fuck, he thinks when he realizes who his partner is.

John Constantine is unaffected. He walks through the halls of school head held high, beat up trench coat with a bi pride flag pin on it not giving a fuck. Ever since his mother moved them to the states to get away from his father the English transfer has made a name for himself as the school’s resident bad boy. Late to classes, always getting caught smoking and telling off anyone who looked at him sideways.

He’s perfectly content with everyone thinking he doesn’t give a damn about them and that he’s an asshole.

Except her.

Zatanna Zatara is the genius goth princess of his dreams and the only thing that’s left him truly feeling something other than annoyance or anger since they moved.

He darts out of the classroom as soon as he can though, just because he likes the girl doesn’t mean he’s going to happily do a group project or worse yet make a fool of himself in front of her.

“Hey Constantine wait up!” she shouts running after him in the hall. He doesn’t know how she manages it in the chunky boots she’s wearing, but she catches up to him in seconds. She trips a little when she reaches him grabbing his arm for stability. It’s in that moment he realizes this is the closest they’ve been in the year they’ve been attending school together and this is most definitely the first time they’ve touched.

John looks at her the uninterested demeanor he’s maintained on full display.

“Hi,” she says smiling at him and John feels his steely demeanor slipping away already. “You ran off on me there, partner.” Her arm drops and John misses the contact immediately.

“Uh, yeah,” he says scratching at the back of his neck. “Sorry, ‘bout that. I’m just not the best at teamwork.”

Zatanna nods her lips twisting up in thought.

“Well I can work around that,” she says with a confident pat to his arm. “Meet me after school in the parking lot, you’re coming over and we’re working on this project.”

She walks away leaving him no room for argument strutting off to catch up with her friends. John watches her go in interest and in confusion. No one, save for Boston who forced his friendship upon John and who he’s fairly certain just talks so much he misses all social cues, has ever ignored his standoffish behavior before. No one’s ever really fought back against it before until now.

There’s no way he’s getting out of this project without breaking his don’t give a fuck attitude around her and he just knows it.

For some reason even though he could very easily just skip the rest of his classes and not show up in the parking lot, he sticks around until the final bell rings, attending all of his classes and everything.

Zatanna walks out with her little pack of friends she’s often with and smiles when she spots him. She turns to them throwing a wave and then makes her way over to John.

“Hey,” she says once she gets to him. “Not gonna lie I thought the chances of you not showing were 80 to 20 not in my favor.”

John huffs a laugh. “More like 70/40.”

Zatanna laughs at that a genuine thing that lights up her dark blue eyes even more.

“Come on, my cars this way,” she says tugging on his sleeve. Across the lot a series of wolf whistles sound from Zatanna’s friends as they all pile into another car. Zatanna stops and rolls her eyes.

“Ignore triple a,” she says gesturing to the end of the lot.

“Triple a?”

“Abby, Alec and Andrew. They’re my best friends and it’s just easier to call them that than list them off,” she shrugs then nods at a black vehicle once they’re in front of it. “This is me.”

John looks at the car that previously he could only see the front end of and realizes starkly that it’s a hearse.

“Um, do you drive a hearse?” he asks walking to the passenger side.

They both get in and Zatanna chuckles.

“Yup,” she says starting the engine. “My family’s in the funeral business.”

“I thought your dad was a magician?” John says recalling some conversation he overheard when a couple of jocks were mocking her for her style. They’d ended up with live fireworks in their lockers the next day courtesy of him, not that she or they know that.

“He is on the side, funeral directing is the main source of income though,” she explains a little hesitantly. It’s clear some people have judged her families work. John is the son of a full time alcoholic and a grocery clerk so he’s not about to be one to judge.

“Creepy, and kinda cool,” he says with a smirk. She tilts her head to look at him briefly biting her lip holding in a smile. The rest of the ride is spent mostly talking about their project and John finds himself actively caring about something from school for the first time ever.

“You sure know a lot about witches being burned at the stake for a seventeen-year-old,” he says after they park in the driveway outside of her house which also serves as funeral home.

She chuckles opening the large double doors.

“Grow up around dead bodies and you find yourself into all sorts of spooky stuff,” she says gesturing for him to follow her upstairs. They walk past two large halls where he assumes funerals are held and a casket display room. John wonders how inappropriate it would be to ask her if they can go down to the mortuary before he leaves.

She comes to a stop at the top of the stairs pulling John into the first door on the right and just like that he finds himself in her bedroom. In the past year they’ve said maybe a three dozen words to one another, John always just noticing her from afar, and now he’s alone with her in her bedroom.

She pulls a wheelie chair from her desk gesturing for him to sit down as she crosses her legs and sits on her bed.

She dives right in basically planning out their entire project on her own, but asking for his input anyways. He listens closely while she talks, but surveys her room as well. The room is at least seventy percent books ranging from classics like Frankenstein to specific movie themed cookbooks. Her wall space that isn’t bookshelves is scattered with an array of indie band posters and photos of her with her friends. The thing that catches John’s attention most is the top hat and wand sitting on the desk on top of an old book he can’t read the title of. He wonders if maybe there’s a little more to her love of witches and her father’s side gig.

It doesn’t take long before they have a game plan, that shockingly he plans to actually follow if for no other reason than to not let her down, and John learns that she may or may not already own painted mini figurines of Salem witches for their diorama. They migrate downstairs after that both seemingly prolonging their time together with conversation swerving away from school.

Draped across a row of fancy folding chairs with an empty casket at the front of the room John finds himself telling Zatanna little bits and pieces of himself he hasn’t told anyone since coming to the states. In turn she tells him about her family and incredibly specific music tastes.

“Thank for not being weird about all this,” she says gesturing to the room at large after a while. “Or asking to see a dead body.”

John coughs at that bit glad he refrained from asking earlier.

“Most people don’t get it or think it’s too creepy,” she goes on picking at her fishnets lightly. He’s constantly in awe that she gets away with wearing them at school surprised he’s never seen her in detention for dress code violations with him.

John just shrugs. “So you live in a funeral home, I live in a shitty trailer park where my kitchen, living room and bathroom are basically all one room. Everybody’s got different lives, no point in judging someone else’s.”

She stops picking at her fishnets and looks up at him from under her choppy bangs with a smile. Her eyes catch on the clock behind him.

“Oh, shit you should go before my dad gets back. He’ll absolutely kill us both if he finds out I was alone unattended with a boy who willingly wears a trench coat,” she says after seeing the time. It’s already almost eight and John has no idea where the time has gone.

He turns down her offer of a ride, even though he’d kill for a few more minutes alone, opting to walk home instead. She walks with him to the front door pausing and tugging on his coat once he’s stepped outside.

“We should have lunch tomorrow, John,” she says leaning against the doorframe and calling him by his first name for the first time.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose. You and your friends got your thing,” he says. Part of him would also admittedly feel a little bad abandoning Boston, would he just sit there and talk to himself for forty-five minutes if John wasn’t there?

“Well you and your talkative friend can absolutely join us sometime if you’d like, but I was thinking more just you and me tomorrow,” she says reaching out and fixing the lapel of his jacket quickly. “I bring my lunch most days since I’m a vegetarian and I’m sure you know all the good spots where a teacher can’t find a couple students for a whole period.”

He smiles at her shoving his hands in his pockets so he doesn’t do something stupid like reach out and kiss her, especially if he’s reading this wrong.

“So we can work on the project?” he asks wanting to be certain.

Zatanna purses her lips in thought for a second and then morphs into a smile.

“Nope.”

John chuckles, “Well in that case I know all the secret spots.”

Her smile just gets brighter at that. She pushes off the doorframe and leans in to kiss him on the cheek lightly.

“Great,” she says pulling back and slowly closing the door. “See you tomorrow.”

And then all because of a kiss on the cheek resident bad boy John Constantine can’t stop smiling the entire walk home.

#my fic #writersmonth2020 #johnzee #john constantine #zatanna zatara

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finnofamerica · 5 years

Text

A Touch in The Dark - James Potter x Reader

Summary: James thought he was hung up on Lily, but when a Slytherin girl steps into his life he realizes something shocking.

Word Count: 3198

Date: 9.30.2019

Requested by Anonymous

|| Masterlist ||

You were ripped out of the fantastical realm of your novel as a knock resonated from your front door, muffled voices accompanying it. You were tempted to just ignore it and hope that whoever it was would go away.

“Y/n!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” The voice yelled, “I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE!!! I SAW YOUR LIGHT ON!!”

You pouted and groaned, finally leaving your comfortable spot on the couch, shivering as your bare toes touched the cold hardwood.

“Marlene?” You scrunched your brow in confusion, “What’re you doing? Hey Lily.”

“Can we camp in your yard?” Marlene asked.

“Why?”

“Because your yard is the safest!!! We’ll camp just inside the treeline so that way we’ll be close to the house, but not disruptive!” She bounced. It was nearly eleven at night, but the sun was setting later with it being mid-July. Despite the lateness of the evening, the sun still hovered just below the horizon, casting a dim orange glow over the little hills around your house and on the trees behind you.

“How long?” You scratched your arm, nervously. You had the house to yourself because your parents left for a month-long anniversary “honeymoon.” Having the house was nice, but you hated not having any company.

“I don’t know, we were thinking about the rest of the summer. I mean it’s not that long and we got permission from our parents, and there’s a campground in those woods but we y’know, living cheap, we could sneak through and set up camp.” Marlene explained.

“What about your parent’s Y/n?” Lily asked, giving you an easy smile, “You’re welcome to join us.”

“Ahh,” You shuffled, “They’re away on honeymoon.”

“They just got married?”

“No, uh, they just wanted to do something special for their 25th anniversary.”

“Oh, that’s so nice!”

“So can we sneak through your back yard?” Marlene asked.

“I suppose so,” You shrugged, “I’m certain you would regardless of permission.”

“You’re the best Y/n/n.” She cheered and turned to Lily, “Tell the boys to get the stuff.”

“Excuse me, the boys?” You furrowed your brows.

“Oh yeah, James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus here too.”

You opened and closed your mouth like a fish, struggling to find words. Being a Slytherin, you got a lot of judgment from the other houses, the Marauders especially. Though they never directed it at you specifically, it was still hurtful to hear what they really thought of your house. You weren’t nasty like some Slytherin’s were, they gave the house a bad name leaving most Slytherin's the choice of becoming what they already thought you were or alienated because you aren’t.

Slytherin isn’t about being nasty or discriminatory, though plenty of wizards and witches in your house made it seem that way. Slytherin was about knowing what you wanted and doing everything in your power to get it. It was about being resourceful, smart, ambitious, and cunning. None of those meant being nasty.

Still, despite the Marauders resent of the Slytherin house, you still admired them in a way. They were so outgoing, funny, and kind. It seemed like they could get away with anything. You’ve had almost every class with at least one of them since first year, it’s not like you were a stranger to them. They never really seemed to notice you at all though. You could almost say that you wanted to be their friend, but house pride always got the better of you, and though you weren’t friends with him, you could never excuse what they did to Severus.

“Marlene!” You called after her in protest.

“Love you!!” She yelled over her shoulder with a wave as she ran off. You groaned, weighing your options. Spend the month in your house or spend it with a familiar company.

The idea of not being completely alone won out.

“Wait, Marlene!” You sighed, “I’ll get my stuff.”

You grabbed your stuff, piling it into a bag that you charmed with an Extention charm, laying in your sleeping back and your book, along with some snacks from your house that you knew you’d be craving. You caught the group of teens just in time, falling into step with Lily, who gave you a smile.

“Joining us, I see,” She teased, pushing you a little.

“It was this or sitting alone at home,” You shrugged, with a little smile.

“Well, I’m glad. Without you, I think these boys will drive me insane,” She laughed. You gave her a smile, feeling uncomfortably out of place amongst the gaggle of Gryffindors. Lily made you feel better. She and Marlene never really cared much for house discrimination.

“So what did you bring?” Marlene dropped her arm around your shoulder. The boys were a little way ahead, snickering back and forth, occasionally looking behind them, and then going back to chatting.

“Some food, a sleeping bag, some books, clothes. Not a lot really.” You shrugged.

“I’m so looking forward to this!” She cheered, “There’s this lake nearby, well you probably know this already, but I’m so excited, I wanna jump in it!”

You laughed, as she squeezed you in her excitement.

It, thankfully, wasn’t too long of a walk to the campsite. You found a good spot, and the boys set up a tent with an extension charm on it.

“Lily?” You admired the tent.

“Hmm?”

“Who cast this charm? It even better than mine.”

“I did.” James butted in, catching your attention.

“Oh. It’s, uh, very nice,” You complimented hesitantly. You were really hoping he wouldn’t turn it back on you to make fun of Slytherins.

“Thank you.”

You weren’t holding your breath but if you were, you would’ve sighed in relief. In fact, his smile was kinda nice, but he went right back to talking to Sirius without another look in your direction.

“I can’t believe, Lily invited her, I mean we don’t even know her,” Sirius complained as you wandered off into the woods, leaving the Gryffindors behind at the camp.

“She might not be so bad, Pads,” James shrugged, watching as you departed.

“Not so bad? She’s a Slytherin, Prongs.” He scoffed.

“I remember not so long ago you wanted to be a Slytherin yourself.” James nudged him, making him scowl.

“Yeah well, that was before I realized how snobbish they are.”

James mulled it over, Sirius was probably right, but you seemed nice for the most part. He just went back to pretending to listen to Remus and Lily talk about the books they were reading. You didn’t seem that bad, just secretive. Wandering into the woods by yourself, he was wondering what you were planning.

“You look pensive.” Marlene snorted.

“Hmmm?” James frowned, “Just thinking.”

“Yeah, no shit. What do you think pensive means?”

After a bit of laughter from Marlene, she sobered up again.

“Okay, but seriously, what’s up?” She rested her arm against his shoulder despite being a full head shorter than him.

“Why did you guys invite, Y/l/n?” He asked enjoying the quiet moment, well, cicada symphony quiet.

“Because she’s cool?”

“Yeah, but how would you know she’s not planning something.”

“Y/n isn’t like that, James. She’s really nice. She just knows what she wants.”

“Then why is she wandering off into the woods by herself? She could be planning some sort of Slytherin prank, y’know. Strand the gyrffindors in the woods and prank them when they have no backup.”

“And risk starting a feud with you? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“But-”

“I’m back,” you gave a big smile as you stepped back into the little clearing of the campsite.

“Where did you go?” Marlene asked. You slung your bag off your shoulders, kneeling on the ground with it.

“To get this!” You opened the bag, pulling out all kinds of firewood and kindling along with a hatchet. “I didn’t see you guys bring any firewood, so I thought I’d go get some.”

“How are we gonna start a fire, we didn’t bring any-”

“I thought of that too.” You cut her off with a proud grin. “I brought a flint fire starter.”

“You know how to start a fire with that?” James cut in.

“Yeah, why would I bring something that I didn’t know how to use?”

You could tell James didn’t believe you, and instead of responding you just set to work, building a fire in the pit. It wasn’t long before the rest of the group had taken notice, sitting outside the tent on some abandoned logs while you worked. You chewed your lip, scraping flint against steel, hoping to create some sparks.

You couldn’t stop the joy that jolted through you when the dried grasses caught fire, igniting kindling and hoping it’d burn just long enough to catch a real fire.

“I almost thought that that wouldn’t work.” You clapped your hands together with a beaming smile.

"You almost?" Sirius snorted.

"Well, some of the kindling was a little damp and it's kinda windy-"

"Y/n. He's teasing." Lily cut you off.

"Oh."

"I'll go get marshmallows!" Peter said cheerfully, climbing into the tent - probably to escape the awkwardness in the air.

"So, how did you learn that?" Remus asked, looking genuinely interested.

"My dad's a muggle. He used to take me on camping trips all the time, he thought it was important that I knew how to get by without magic, in case anything bad happened."

Remus nodded. Your dad had a point. Remus wasn't sure what James or Sirius would do if they suddenly found themselves without magic.

"You're half-blood then?" James asked though it was more of a statement.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Nothing. It's just interesting."

The next few days you got used to the presence of the Marauders, and they got used to you. It was kinda fun actually, even when you had to walk all the way back to the house so you could take the car into town because nobody packed enough food for an entire month. Only you, Lily, and Remus actually had muggle money, which made you wonder what they were planning on doing when they ran out of food.

You, list in hand, split up the shopping into groups. Peter and Sirius went with Remus to get one-third of the shipping list, Marlene with Lily, which stuck James with you whether you liked it or not. So the two of you wandered the fridge isles, picking up condiments and drinks, and whatever you could think of that should’ve been on the list.

You hummed lightly to the Beatles song that was playing over the radio, dancing ever so slightly to the catchy melody. James watched you with amusement as you lost yourself in the music, almost forgetting he was there.

“He’s a real nowhere man, sitting in his nowhere land, making all his nowhere plans for nobody,” You found yourself singing softly.

James was never really into muggle music but hearing it from your lips, he wanted to find this band and learn all of their songs. James just leaned against the cart, watching you. You flung your hair over your shoulder to find him staring. You gave him a shy smile and went back to shopping, the melody silent on your lips. You didn’t look at him again, but James was bright red.

You all managed to make it back to the camp before dark, far from the outskirts of the city. After a long unpacking of groceries and a few rounds of firewiskey smuggled by Marlene and Peter, mostly everyone had gone to bed.

Most except you and James, laid out by the fire, watching ashes rise into the sky and join the stars. A charmed radio was not far off, volume low enough not to disturb the inhabitants of the tent.

“It’s so beautiful,” You hummed, staring up at the glittering constellations above you. Somewhere far above you was Orion, Artemis’ great warrior.

“Do you know any of the stories?” James asked.

“I learned a few of them in muggle studies, few other’s from my dad.”

“Like?”

“Well, like Orion, who was Artemis’ favorite warrior, or Cassiopea?”

“Any.”

“Well, I can’t remember the exact stories, but my dad told me of one that there is a tree so tall, that it touches the sky, and it’s why the sky rotates around the north star.”

“Tell me something else.”

“About what?” You turned to face him.

“Anything. School, your friends, something.”

“Well, at school I don’t have many friends. Believe it or not, there isn’t a whole lot of Slytherin's lining up to be friends with a half-blood, and there aren’t a whole lot of wizards or witches lining up to be friends with a Slytherin. I was lucky enough to have made friends with Lils and Mar during study group.”

“I’ll be your friend.”

“Right, because the famous Slytherin tormentor James Potter would want to be my friend.”

“No, I promise,” He rolled over, staring at you seriously. His face heating up from the embarrassment of the accusation.

“You promise that when we get back to Hogwarts, you’ll be my friend?”

“I swear it.”

“We will see then.”

The remainder of the month went by without a hitch, you managed to make it to the lake Marlene was talking about before the water got cold. Remus wanted to stay on the side but with a little convincing from Lily, he was ready to go, Sirius already betting him five galleons that he wouldn’t jump off the tall rock.

You spent nearly a full day there, enjoying your time with the gaggle of gryffindors. But all too soon your fun had to come to an end, as summer departed, so did your friends, going back to their homes to prepare for the oncoming school year.

August brought autumn and with it colder weather and falling leaves. In the transitioning of the seasons, it became more clear to James of how fast his feelings had grown for you. He was watching for you down every corridor, waiting for you in every class. In the classes he happened to share with you, he found it nearly impossible to keep himself focused on his work, his eyes seemed to follow you on their own. He thought he’d been crazy about Lily, but that feeling was nothing compared to this.

You could often be found in the courtyard, book in hand, enjoying the smell of the changing weather. That’s where Sirius knew to find you, amongst a spattering of fallen leaves from the willow.

“Are you ever not reading?” Sirius asked, tapping the top of your book, another muggle novel that you liked.

“Nope,” You gave him a smile, “What’s up?”

“You know that ball coming up?”

“Just FYI, I bet James if he doesn’t ask the girl he likes, then he has to change his hair pink for a month so, since you’re the best at charms?”

“I’m in. So, who are you going with?”

“Me, myself, and I babe,” Sirius popped his collar, “Don’t wanna be tied down, mean I can dance with more ladies.”

“I am both disgusted and impressed.”

“You going with someone?”

“Nobody’s asked, so far.” You shrugged, shivering as a cold breeze threw some hair into your face. You tucked it behind your ear, “Can’t seem to find anyone interested, I guess.”

Truth be told, you only wanted one person to ask you, but he seemed far to preoccupied to notice. To say you were pining over James Potter would be an understatement. You’d catch him staring from across the Great Hall and you’d stick your tongue out at him, only for him to make a face at you in return.

“Well, whoever doesn’t ask is blind. You don’t get a date, I’ll go with you - as friend’s of course.”

“What about all the babes you wanna dance with?” You rose a brow at him.

“Friends are more important, Y/n, surely you know that.” He ruffled your hair.

“Okay, whatever Sirius, go away.”

“You love me.”

“You wish!” You called as he stalked away, giving you a grin.

James plotted for hours how to ask you out. He didn’t want to do something he already used on Lily, anything she rejected would never work on you, he was sure of it. The only problem is that she rejected all of his previous ideas. Those were all big and grand, public. If he wanted you, he’d have to go for something simple, private and something that would mean something to you. So he slipped a note in your novel when you weren’t looking, hoping that you’d find it in time.

That's how you ended up in the astronomy tower as the sun was setting, the light just barely clinging to the horizon. Glittering lights floated around the astronomy tower, creating shadow scenes of a couple's adventures. There was even one of a couple lying next to a fire, and one at a train station. It was beautiful, but you weren’t sure why you were here.

“Y/n,” James beamed at you, “You came.”

“Well, yeah, I found a mysterious note. I thought I’d investiga- James what is all this?”

“It’s uh, us?” He scratched the back of his neck. “I had a speech planned and then I saw you and forgot it but, um, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to the ball with me?”

“James I swear if you’re only asking me so I won't color your hair pink-”

“No, Y/n, what?” He scrunched his face up like he had no idea of that part of the deal, and honestly, he didn’t, “Look.”

He pointed at one of the shadow scenes. It was a couple at a table, books in hand, from the motion you could tell they were laughing.

“See, that’s us a couple weeks ago in the library when we got yelled at for laughing too loud. This one,” He pointed to another, a girl with a list in hand and a boy leaning on the shopping cart, “is at that store, remember?”

“Well yeah, but I don’t understand.”

“All of these scenes are moments that made me fall for you,” James explained, “And I really, really like you, I’m just asking for a chance for you to like me too.”

“Y’know, James,” You stepped forward, teasing him, “You’re almost as red as Lily’s hair is.”

“Look if you don’t feel-”

“No I feel the same,” You laughed, “I’m just enjoying seeing you nervous for once.”

“So you’ll go to the ball with me?”

“Yes, I’ll go to the ball with you.” You laughed as he broke out into a huge grin, wrapping his arms around you and spinning you around.

“I promise you won’t regret this.” He swore.

“Yeah, sure, okay, I just require one thing.”

“What?”

“This.” You cupped his cheeks, pulling him down for a kiss. As cheesy as it was, it felt like fireworks, even as the heat of his hands tightened on your waist. It was, dare I say, perfect.

“JAMES POTTER!”

“Y/N Y/L/N!”

“Busted,” You whispered as you pulled away. James grinned at the professors sheepishly.

“Hi, McG.” He waved slightly.

TAGS: @diggorysghost @niffleurs @siriuslyimmoony @carolinesbookworld@untildawnremus @thoseofgreatambition @nosebleednougats @moonynprongs @marauderobsessed @theboywhocriedlupin @astertist @swellwriting @blimey-ron @dyngflwrs @fortisfiliae @essenceoflumos @bluemadcnna @theseuscmander

#james potter x reader #murauders x reader #hp x reader #finn writes #full length #holy shit this is so long #3K #wtf #this took me three days #9/30/2019

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vampirrediaries · 5 years

Text

Enemies Of The State : Dark!Klaroline {7}

summary:

This fiction follows the events of just how Klaus Mikaelson and Caroline Forbes lost everything that tied them to their humanity, leading them into something neither of them can come back from.

—————

{10 years ago}

Caroline Forbes felt a degree of satisfaction when she finally packed her things. Just the necessities, of course. Hair curler, clothes, blood bags and vervain in case any vampire’s attempted to get in her way. She could annoyingly name a few, which is why she needed to get out of here as fast as she could.

Not that she was scared of fighting off her supernatural counterparts. No, Caroline just couldn’t be bothered with the whole ordeal. New York was only a few hours away, and the sooner she left the better.

She was zipping up her suitcase when her eye caught something. That wretched piece of parchment on which she was perfectly drawn. Caroline scoffed. Guess she could thank Klaus for one thing. If he hadn’t drawn that, she would still be a girly little vampire with her humanity in tact. She quickly stuffed it in one of her bags, paying no mind to it after that.

Caroline thought it was pathetic, really, how she couldn’t keep him out of her head even with her emotions turned off. Whatever, it’s not like i’m gonna see him again.

With all of her things packed and ready to go, Caroline hastily went out the door, throwing her suitcase in the backseat of her car when she reached it. Slamming the door shut, she looked over her home with lifeless eyes from the drivers seat, not knowing that this was one of the last times she would ever see it. Not that she cared, anyways.

With that being done, Caroline started up the engine, finally driving away to the freedom she so craved.

***

Elena Gilbert’s home was only full of silence as they stood in the wake of Caroline’s outburst.

“Who knew Caroline had that in her.” Damon spoke up in efforts to diffuse the silence. Nobody knew the right thing to say, and why would they? The sweet blonde girl they all knew was gone without a trace.

“She’ll get over whatever she’s going through,” Bonnie began to reason “I mean it’s Caroline. What harm could she do?” Elena whisked her head around, beginning to take in the reality of what had just happened.

“It’s Klaus. It’s his influence,” the Doppelgänger said thoughtfully “She wouldn’t be like this is she had some sense to leave him alone.” The room hummed in unision, silently agreeing with Elena.

“What else did all of you expect? She’d go to the first man to call her pretty. It’s kinda sad, actually,” Damon said with disdain as he made his way to the couch. Elena shot him a look, but didn’t bother defending her friend because she silently agreed with the words coming out.

Everyone did.

“I just can’t believe Klaus of all people,” Elena complained “He tried to kill me multiple times. How could she be so careless?”

“I actually thought she had better taste,” Damon said amusedly, a hostile look in his eyes “I mean she did go for me-”

“I never knew how hypocritical all of you were until now.”

Stefan Salvatore finally spoke up, his tone was as fed up as they’d ever heard him. The room turned their heads in unison, taking in the words that were spoken with surprise.

Damon immediately stood up from the couch, his expression an amused one as he walked towards his only sibling. “Go ahead and enlighten us, brother” His eyes shone with a twisted curiosity “On how we are the hypocrites.”

Stefan scoffed, shaking his head as he walked past Damon. He needed to say this to everyone, because it wasn’t just his older brother that was acting like he was completely innocent and wouldn’t dare cause harm, but all of Caroline’s former friends.

“I don’t know if all of you have realised this, but pray tell me how it’s Caroline who always gets thrown aside because she fell for somone who actually chose her for once. Is it because all of you have promised to make her feel so guilty for everything she does?”

“Are you even listening to yourself right now?” Elena spoke up with disbelief, approaching the vampire with shallow steps. “She betrayed us! She fell for a monster who killed-”

“Yeah, because you’re so innocent” Stefan scoffed “Damon’s killed more people than I have, and yet nobody pushed you to the side when you’ve been with us both.”

The raven haired vampire’s amused look was gone as if it were never there, hostility quickly replacing his features.

“That’s different!” Elena hissed, rage filling her by the second “The pair of you aren’t like that anymore. Your jealous that i broke up with you, and that’s why you’re trying to hurt me”

“Oh spare me. You’re the last thing on my mind these days,” Stefan shot back venomously “And what’s your excuse for someone known as Kol Mikaelson? Because last time I checked, he’s still a cold-hearted murderer-”

Damon flashed towards his brother in an instant, cutting him off. His eyes were a deadly calm as the bore into Stefan’s.

“I wouldn’t say another word, brother.”

Elena looked at a loss for words, silent anger was the only thing she could feel at that name. Stefan wasn’t finished with what else he had to say, either. He wanted the whole group to know just what they had done to Caroline Forbes for the time they’d known her, but as soon as he could get out another word, the door suddenly flew open.

Everyone’s widened eyes were on Rebekah Mikaelson as she walked into the angst driven living room. She was slightly bloody looking over the group with seriousness. She only saw incredulous stares, her being the last person anyone thought they’d see tonight.

“We have a problem.”

————

Klaus Mikaelson’s rage echoed through the mansion as he threw an empty glass on the far side of the wall, screaming.

“I will hunt him down to his bloody death,” Klaus seethed as his rage went to other limits “I want him in a coffin if he dares touch her!”

Kol Mikaelson didn’t look fazed as he saw his this take place. He expected him to be like this, but it didn’t mean dread didn’t fill him up. Klaus would unleash hell on earth if something dared happen to Caroline Forbes, and Kol happened to like earth the way it was. It was why he was so adamant on keeping Katherine alive, to avoid such events from ever occurring.

“Let’s not be rash, brother” He approached the rageful hybrid slowly, making sure not to rile him up any further. “We don’t know if Elijah has gone to kill the girl for sure.”

“Oh, pray tell me Kol,” Klaus hissed venomously “Where would our brother possibly go the minute he heard Katerina was nothing but a pile of bones?”

“Her friends won’t possibly let him kill her-”

“Her incessant friends don’t care for her,” Klaus growled as he cut him off, fangs lengthening by the second as his strong emotions overtook him.

He was a fool for ever leaving her, thinking it was for her betterment. He should’ve taken her with him, and she would’ve came as well. She gave him a chance, and he betrayed her in the cruelest of ways. His heart clenched as he recalled her utterly broken voice that poured her soul to him over a phone call, when he should’ve been there in person.

You promised. You promised you’d be here.

No, Klaus Mikaelson didn’t deserve Caroline Forbes. He didn’t deserve to be her last love. But damn him if anything harmed his light.

Before Kol could stop him, the ruthless Hybrid had already flashed away to save his Caroline’s fate. He would kill everyone and everything that stood in his way of getting to her, and if he had to to desiccate his brother to ensure that she was still breathing, he wouldn’t think twice about the ordeal.

————

Caroline was on her way to sweet freedom when her phone started buzzing halfway through the journey. She rolled her eyes, carelessly throwing the ringing thing in the backseat. Whoever it may be, they would only stand in her way. She just couldn’t have that now, could she?

Her hand was occupied with a blood bag while the other was on the steering wheel, effortlessly guiding the car through the streets of a small town she’d came into on her way. She slyly smirked to herself. There was no reason she shouldn’t get a head start. Caroline felt her throat tighten with starvation for that red ecstasy straight from the vein, feasting her eyes upon the walking flesh and blood that crowded the pavements.

She impatiently got out of the car, slamming the door behind as she stiffly began walking in efforts to find somewhere witnesses won’t be present. It was a dreary little place, reminding her too much of her former home. Whatever, she would just drain the life out of a poor, unexpecting human and be done with it. It would suppress her urges for the rest of the way.

Caroline’s eyes suddenly caught a boy, walking down an abandoned alley as calmy as ever. He only looked thirteen. She didn’t care. She just wanted blood, and blood is what she’ll get no matter who it came from.

Bloodlust surged through her now, snapping into focus as quickly as ever as she flashed towards the boy. The poor soul looked up quickly, innocence protruding from his expression as his eyes bore into Caroline’s darkening one’s questioningly. She didn’t say a word as she felt the familiar feeling of fangs growing from her incisors.

The boy slightly parted his mouth to as if he was about to say something, or to scream. She didn’t know, because she instantly plunged her deadly weapons into his neck before he could dare draw attention. Holding her hand tightly across his mouth, she drank greedily. Her body felt alive and euphoric, the feeling all vampire’s fought to chase.

Her victim slowly stopped the muffled sounds of violent protest and pain, falling limp as death neared. Caroline sickeningly revelled in the heart barely pumping blood now, drinking until it was all gone, and so was he. Dropping the corpse on the ground carelessly, just like she did with her first victim, the vampire was far from feeling remorse. All she felt, and all she wanted to feel, was the thrill of the hunt rushing through her every nerve.

Leaving the corpse where it was, Caroline wiped her mouth with her sleeve in order to not cause attention to herself. Sure, the mangled body was a factor, but she’d be long gone before it was found. She quickly made her way to the car, getting in the drivers seat as she started the engine. The car hummed as it drove away from where she’d committed a murder that was hopefully first of many.

A twisted, sadistic smile appears on Caroline’s face as she drove. See, she knew that this was the point of no return. She finally let her true self out to play, and after pushing it deep inside the darkest crevices of her mind, finally letting it fully consume her whole being felt like power.

She loved it.

——————

masterlist

#tvd #klaroline #katherine pierce #klaus mikaelson #klaroline fanfiction #the vampire diaries fanfiction #enemies of the state #tvd fanfiction #elena gilbert #the originals #the originals fanfiction #the originals imagines #dark!klaroline #kai parker #legacies

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void-tiger · 5 years

Text

...screw it. I’ll *maybe* write an AU that’s from the point Takashi first crash lands back to Earth.

You know, one that has him having a twin and a preKerb friendgroup made up of Ryou, Lisa, Matt, Veronica, and Ginger (in my fanon she’s Hunk’s sister)? You know...Shiro actually having family and friends that then includes the Paladins? (Oh...and people actually at his launch other than Keith and the Holts. Well, the ones who weren’t currently deployed on their own missions at that time.)

Lots of rambling and thought-dumping as to how that might look plot-wise in a broader sense under the cut (along with other fixits)

Veronica’s seen ribbing her younger brother but also trying to cheer him and his assigned team back up before carrying on with her Garrison Job.

The Trio still sneaks out and runs into Keith causing not-well-thought-out shenanigans beyond a successful diversion.

The Trio+Keith run headlong into Ryou, Lisa, Veronica, and Ginger who had the exact same idea as their younger siblings/the idiot (former) cadet. They ARE Shiro’s friends, afterall. Only, they’re the “scientists” and stick Iverson and the REAL scientists with the sedatives instead of Shiro. (They also made more of an effort to keep an eye on Keith than Adam ever did. They’re also well-aware that Pidge is actually Katie and keep an eye on her, too, but decided not to push her about the shoddy disguise. They *might* be covering for her regarding Iverson&Co, though.)

(Also, the Shack belonged to Ryou and Shiro. But Keith’s staying there, too. Ryou’s not happy about Keith trying to bust Shiro out without him.)

After the initial confusion, the Actual Adults (barely!) TM take over and have everyone pile into their cars while they try to shake off the Garrison and eventually regroup back at the Shack. (Keith’s driving Shiro’s old bike back since he’s the one who took it out. Shiro’s placed in the back of Ryou’s car with the seats laid flat. Ryou’s back there trying to keep him restrained until they can do triage, with Lisa taking over as the driver. Everyone else is with Veronica and Ginger. Or, they all took a ScoobyDoo van from the start vs several cars.)

Shiro actually recognizes the entire Trio, but introduces himself, anyway. (He’s a pilot, not an engineer or analyst. And although Veronica and Ginger bragged about their baby brothers and Matt about his genius gremlin sister, and Ryou definitely bragged about Hunk’s progress, it just didn’t quite work out for him to meet the cadets personally, save maybe Pidge—PR, aviation instruction, and Kerberos prep kinda ate away at his time. He did keep an eye on Lance’s progress, but...any remnants of time kinda went to Adam before the breakup and mentoring Keith. (Ryou kinda just insisted on crashing in Shiro’s post-breakup issued room until the twins finally pooled their resources to buy the Shack.))

The hunt for the Blue Lion goes about the same, only the group’s larger. Blue still picks Lance, kidnaps everyone else like a box of kittens, and goes for a joyride before getting serious. (“YEP. That’s definitely your Lion, Lance,” Veronica snarks.) The same Paladins experience the Vision as before, with the others giving them strange looks when they all randomly zonked out in tandem for half a second.

They eventually end up in Arus’s solar system. (The adults are very, very glad that they didn’t ever have time for pets. (And in this version, Ginger isn’t already a mother, and the Adults are all about 23-26, give or take.) Then internally freaking out about kidnapping a bunch of kids by accident, and kicking themselves about not having any sort of letters ready for everyone’s family. That...could’ve been thought out better (and moves to the top of their priority list. Galaxies away or not, mean purple aliens kinda implies they’ll be gone for awhile. With...a bunch of kids.)

They wake up Allura, but Ryou’s the one to catch her. Veronica twists Lance’s ear before he ever opens her mouth. (“Yeah yeah I know. She’s gorgeous. But not the time.”) (RIP, Lance’s ears...they’re not safe in any reality.) Allura and Coran pull up their starcharts...and discover the same, awful news. The adults herd everybody out to give the Alteans some space to grieve in private.

Allura starts to describe the Lions, but the group interrupts her. (“Uh...we kinda saw a big giant robot in our heads?” “Yeah, and it was freaky watching them all look like zombies for half a second, so hard pass.”) The rest of it goes on as usual, only Lance gets whacked for self-postulating, and Blue actually gets a description this time.

The soon-to-be Paladins split up to look for their Lions, with Keith still at the Castle. Ryou and Ginger set to work helping Coran get the Castle operational again, while Lisa and Veronica take on the task of helping Allura sift through 10,000 years of data backlogged.

Obviously certain events like Sendak capturing the Castle and Crystal Venom would play out somewhat differently. For one, neither Ryou or Lisa would leave Shiro alone. And at least one of them would probably stand with Coran about the ethics about all of it, even if they reluctantly agree that it’s the best option they have.

As far as Shiro’s disappearance, they catch on a LOT sooner that Black’s damaged and actually curling protectively around Shiro. (You know. Like Toothless and Hiccup. Just sayin’.) (As well as an explanation as to why Shiro ended up stored within BlackLion during the fight to protect him, while the other Paladins were not by their own Lions.)

Jiro still shows up thinking he’s Shiro, but has the others gently inform him that no, no he’s not. (Shiro may or may not be already out of BlackLion and recovering.) Jiro consents to having extensive tests done. They find all of Haggar’s implants (and discover that Shiro actually got stuck with a few of his own that Black separated from him when they extracted him out...now that they know what they’re looking at. Oh, and the Blacktashi Bond’s still well and good, but Shiro does have more trauma to work through. At best Shiro’s unconscious the entire time he was stored as energy particle. At worst? Sensory deprivation and FullBody Amputation. Nothing about Shiro being suspended in the Void could’ve been pleasant, even though Black was well-intentioned.) Once free from her control, Jiro’s more determined than ever to take her and the Galra empire down. (As well as freeing the other clones. The others share that sentiment, but especially the Shirogane Twin, who decide to accept Jiro as their “triplet from another mother”.)

Jiro still longs to be a Paladin, though. Allura and Lisa gradually over time begin to share that same longing. Eventually they feel a sort of phantom bond that mimics the one Jiro has with Black not just with the OG Lions, but also an even stronger one they can’t quite pinpoint. They eventually learn that they’re being Called by the second meteor.

Lotor’s still a rival right about the same time. However, by the time he tricks the Paladins into going after the meteor for him, the Castle’s a better match for his ship vs him getting away. (Because, you know. The OG Paladins are still with their Lions. And although Allura went with them to explore the distress call, Coran had Jiro&Co to help him man the Castle.) They fight to a standstill, then eventually call a ceasefire. They’re better about uncovering WHY Lotor wants the meteor/quintessence. Also the surviving Alteans are members of his crew, albeit still disguised to protect them from the Empire. They evacuate the colony vs sticking around. Lotor wants the quintessence first to end balmera mining and komar stripping, but also to have a second attempt at making the colony work.

Allura and Coran are shocked to learn that they’re not the last of their race, but eventually Lotor agrees to carefully continue checking Honerva’s research with Team Voltron&Co before deciding what to do with the comet, and if Lotor’s idea for “unlimited quintessence” is even possible...which eventually leads them to Orionde. (*drops better explanation about that pocket dimension HERE*) Also, the other Paladins probably make it through with both Allura and Lotor in-tow once they stop fighting the Lion and instead evade or request permission to enter (hey, it’d be a nice callback to A Bond Cannot Be Forced), but only Allura and Lotor make it all the way to the end.

When Allura and Lotor rejoin the Paladins and the rest of their crews, Lotor agrees to abandon his attempts to reopen the Quintessence Rift on the remains of Daibazaal--at best Haggar could then seize it and do unspeakable damage. At worst, all of Reality folds in on itself and collapses. There are no shortcuts.

Team Voltron press to know why the Galra covet so much quintessence in the first place:if it’s just to power their technology, then surely it’s past time to discover other means of energy. Lotor reluctantly reveals that the Galra are essentially extinct: what started as a way to extend their lifespans gradually mutated them overtime into no longer being genetically compatible with other members of their own race. They either continue taking the quintessence, or die off. Team Voltron then questions if Lotor and his Generals have that same problem--turns out, yes and no. The Galra are somehow still able to reproduce with other races (which he, Keith, and the generals are the proof of), but there are often complications with those pregnancies. In addition, Lotor and his generals spent enough of their early lives eating quintessence-enriched foods to have developed that same addiction they’re still struggling to ween themselves off of, if it’s even possible at all.

Jiro then casually waves as proof that the Galra have successful cloning...so why not just genetically engineer the next generation to NOT have quintessence dependencies and whatever other genetic mutations that are dooming the Galra. Lotor stares at the clone dumbfounded--he hadn’t even considered that. (Aka, sometimes you need a fresh set of eyes to find plausible solutions to problems.) (*cue Save the Galra subplot mixed in around Typical Campy and Main Plot Adventures*)

The meteor is also used to create three new Lions, who immediately Bond with Allura, Jiro, and Lisa.

(For continuity’s sake? Let’s just say Lotor was never declared Emperor Pro-Tem, but always remained exiled/an outlaw.)

(*campy episodes*)

Pidge and Shiro finally find Matt. However, Matt now needs a brace for the leg Shiro injured while posing as “preChampion” to be able to support him. Shiro’s extremely guilt-ridden over it, but Matt assures him that ultimately it did save his life, and instead of having him transferred to a mining penal colony, he actually got transferred as a researcher after fixing the transport. After that, he bid his time for a chance to escape...which he eventually did when his scheme serendipitously coincided with a rebel attack. Unfortunately, Sam didn’t survive, Matt learned post-escape. The stress killed him well before his transport ever took him to a penal colony.

Voltron’s allies continue to grow. However, Zarkon finally recovers right about the time the Blades discover a quintessence supply chain of a new kind of quintessence...which eventually leads to the discovery of SEVERAL cloning fascilities where BlackPaladin Grade Quintessence is being harvested from hundreds of thousands of Shirogane Clones. Takashi, Ryou, and Jiro are all understandably outraged and physically sick at the revelation. Jiro also questions if his quintessence mimicking Shiro’s is the only reason why the BlackLion saved him at all [despite knowing where/having back her Paladin.] Shiro and Ryou try to reassure Jiro that that can’t be the reason/that he has his own value/etc, but Jiro’s unable to quite believe them.

The clones are finally freed (*cue tense battle here*), and like Jiro, many of them are pissed and choose to join the Rebels’ Ranks in various fields as both payback and a genuine desire to help and explore.

(*cue MORE SciFi Camp and Diplomacy etc*)

Eventually there’s another showdown with Zarkon, Haggar, and Company, spanning either into one massive battle or several smaller ones happening at once. Zarkon’s more powerful than ever thanks to the stolen Shirogane Quintessence Haggar used to revive him (that he continued to nom on up until the clones were rescued, although he still had his stockpile to ration)...but his attempts to seize the BlackLion/bust apart Voltron that way fail spectacularly. The Bond cannot be forced, and blacktashi healed eachother.

Zarkon then summons his anti-voltron made from finally successful robeasts with living pilots. (it’s...a work in progress. as in, how does Sendak fit in, or prolly instead Sendak’s Clone, etc etc. But ultimately some of the previous antagonists return, after they got much more backstory etc in Campy TM stuff) (*cue mech battle*)

Allura finally has her match against Haggar and wins.

(Lotor&Co have their own role, but idk what)

At last...Zarkon and Haggar are defeated, with the bulk of their forces either killed, in custody, or on the run.

Lotor fights his way to the top of the Kral Zera to light his flame. However, his rule and insistence on change isn’t popular with the bulk of the remaining empire after 10,000 years under Zarkon. The remnants of Zarkon’s forces also try to cause trouble. There’s also tension with Voltron and the former Rebel Coalition as the universe attempts to rebuild their societies after being subjugated for so long.

The surviving Alteans also long for their own planet and begin to rebuild their culture now that the Galran threat is finally gone, but they’re still vulnerable.

(Earth’s solar system also may or may not have been destroyed near the end of the 10,000 year war, with the surviving humans mainly being the former Galaxy Garrison, so they’re looking for their own planet/system, too.)

(*cue MORE Save the Galra...and The Galra Have Entered The Planet Race!*)

So, you know. Basically an adaptation of Vehicle Voltron as a “post game”.

Aaand, yet more smatterings of SciFi Camp as they rebuild/are Really Really finally at peace, and they finally just get to explore and experience the sort of Paladinship their predecessors did before Zarkon dragged everyone into the 10,000 year war. Because exploration/campy vld stories are always fun.

#long post #read more #vld au #take it back to the start #fixit fic #plot bunny corral #I wanna know what shiro having his own friendgroup would look like...and them being just as dorky and stubborn as he is alright?#except them actually being on earth when Shiro crashes (oh and actually being at his launch? or some of them?)#(vs...them being already deployed in space. which is my excuse for VeeLaDeeFixit)#then of course taking the same elements and past voltron elements and hopefully making a better fusion. or at least less grimdark

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shewhowantsmouseears · 5 years

Text

Shattered, 11

Notes: As always, big thanks to my amazing editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted!

I'll admit the ending is pretty lackluster, but ultimately I'm glad I gave this kind of story a try, and I hope you all enjoyed the very depressing ride. Thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented, and gave me such beautiful fan-art! I couldn't, and wouldn't, do this work without all of your love and support. Also big thanks to Modmad for inspiration behind one of the pairings, let's be real.

Lastly, I want to say that one of my editors, BlueShifted, will be temporarily stepping down. Send them a lot of your good thoughts and love, because they deserve it!

Summary: In the depths of the coldest winter, Minnie manages to find the one love that no ice could destroy.

Minnie could no longer be sure about the truth of the weather, for her insides stayed cold no matter how roughly she rubbed her hands as she rode one of the reindeer with Goofy. Ratface stayed on her shoulder, cuddled up close only because he “felt an itch” that her ear was good to scratch, and nothing more, so he'd insist. Occasionally from within the carriage beside them Daisy would call out and ask if Minnie was all right. Minnie would lie and say yes she was, and Daisy would pretend to believe it since there was nothing she could do to fix it. As the hours piled on, so did the snow, starting lightly in front and then growing heavier as they journeyed forward.

They encountered pine trees that were heavy with white, and further still trees that had died a frozen, miserable death some ages ago. For a brief moment of time, Minnie wondered if somehow they had gone backwards and returned to her village, for the setting began to seem very familiar. The absence of plants and color, the dead quiet all around, and the snow that never relented... The way they traveled was not for anyone, it was as if it had been made to dissuade people from going any further. Goofy began to shiver, but he didn't tuck his arms around himself for warmth – he saved that for Minnie, wanting to do all he could to keep her steady on the reindeer.

Occasionally the wind blew, but not enough to blind their vision, which was their last saving grace. Donald was worried about the horses, but Goofy assured him that they wanted to see this through to the end, if only for the sake of their mistress – who whined about how cold she was.

“Who told you a fancy gown was suitable for travel?” Ratface huffed when Daisy complained yet again. “It's only going to get worse from here. If you want to back out, do it now.”

“You won't be rid of me, ruffian raven,” Daisy said after a not-so-elegant raspberry from the carriage window. “We shall reunite Minnie with Mickey, and free the land from eternal snow! I just wish I had packed along thicker gloves, is all.”

“Don't suppose anyone's thought of a plan about how we're freein' the land?” Goofy asked as he trembled atop his reindeer. The herd stayed close together as possible, trying to group for warmth. “I'm stickin' with ya'll, but I still ain't sure how we can stop a lady that's been doin' this forever. How do we make her listen to us?”

Minnie had hoped by the time she got this far she'd have some idea of what to do, but there was still no great plan that came to mind. Saying so would only worry her new friend, so she kept it to herself. “We'll figure it out. As long as we keep trying, we'll find a way.” If only because they must, if only because there was no alternative. None of them could go back to the way they'd left things, be it a freezing village, a saddened kingdom, or a hurtful family. There was no option but to keep moving forward.

“May your determination keep you alive, pretty girl,” Ratface said rather solemnly, his eyes ahead, “because we're just about there.”

This got everyone's attention, and they all peered as best they could through the thick, falling snow. At first they couldn't see anything, and Donald would have given Ratface a good tug on his tailfeathers for the trick, but as they continued, they felt the land go down in a slope, and a shadow was descending upon them. Whatever was ahead was blocking out the sun more than the clouds ever could. There was a triangle shape in a misty form, but with each hoofbeat, it became clearer and more solid.

Rows and rows of icicles peppered what was once a lovely and quaint forest, now making it a hazardous place to traverse. The dirt and ground path was frozen solid, and there in the distance lay the landmark that sent a hard wave of fresh fear throughout the group – it was if a tidal wave had crashed up into the land and then had been frozen there completely, spikes and shards of ice sticking out everywhere, reaching up all the way into the heavens. It was disjointed, abrasive, and just looking at it was painful. This had been the creation of someone in unimaginable pain, someone who had done all they could to lock themselves away from the world.

Donald swallowed heavily. “I don't exactly see a front door we can knock on. How are we supposed to get inside?”

“I imagine she lets her soldiers in and out whenever she wants.” Daisy tapped her fan to her beak in thought. “But if she doesn't want us in, she's not letting us in.”

“And we'll be hard-pressed to find a way otherwise.” Ratface stood upright, on edge now that he was so close to what he'd been avoiding for ages. “A hundred human soldiers couldn't break down that ice.”

Perhaps this was true. Minnie looked at their surroundings, or more specifically the furry ones. “How about less than one hundred reindeer?”

Goofy clapped once. “Aw, that's a great idea! Reindeer are much stronger than people! You are some kinda genius, Minnie. Everybody ready?”

“No,” said Donald.

“No,” said Daisy.

“No,” said Ratface.

Minnie didn't bother.

“SOUP'S ON!” Goofy stuck two fingers into his mouth and whistled a note so high that Minnie winced, and after that, every single reindeer began to stampede forward, horns out at the ready. Since this was to be a much bumpier ride, Goofy lifted Minnie into his arms and held her like a careful package, despite how painful it was due to her chill. Donald groaned, but after a tug on the reins, the horses raced on far in the back.

The first reindeer didn't make a crack, nor the second or third. But by the time the thirtieth reindeer and all its siblings crashed into the icy wall, not only did it crack, it was thoroughly and completely crushed like a thin ice cube in the palm of a hand. Inside, the reindeer continued on an icy road but began to slow down as it became clear that bunching up together would only lead to their doom.

Within the ice palace was a single stretch of pathway, and stepping off it meant dropping into a bottomless pit. There were hovering patches of ice with fresh snow that drifted back and forth like eerie stepping stones, and they floated up, down, left, right. The carriage pulled to a stop, and Donald gently helped Daisy down. At first she thought the walls were coated blue, but a startled blink revealed the truth – soldiers. Hundreds, if not thousands, of soldiers lined the walls, waiting for orders, unfeeling, unthinking. Daisy dove into Donald's arms, frightened by the number, and Donald felt much the same, clutching her tightly to his chest. Goofy gulped audibly, taking his time to lower him and Minnie down off the reindeer, no longer shaking just from the cold.

“There,” Ratface said softly, and Minnie turned her head to look up ahead.

The pathway rose high with white stairs, leading to a grand throne where the Snow Queen sat, her dull eyes observing her guests. She didn't appear to be surprised by her visitors, but then it was difficult to imagine her with any emotion at all. Though she was far away, Minnie felt the terror that seized her when she first met the dreaded woman face to face back in her village. Her toes clenched up in her red shoes, the precious ones she'd gotten from Daisy, and she wanted to run away and abandon the mission.

Instead, she walked forward, through all the reindeer. One by one, her friends followed, their steps echoing, the silence determined to drive them to madness. In turn, the Snow Queen rose from her seat, staff held ready in her fingers, and she began to descend the stairs. It all seemed very formal, like the heads of warring nations coming together for a talk of peace. Minnie kept her chin up, never looking away, only stopping when she reached the foot of the stairs. The Snow Queen stopped in the middle of the stairs, and the staring contest started anew.

Minnie took a deep breath, though it agonized her lungs. “My name is Minnie,” she began, “And these are my friends. Ratface, Daisy-”

“I know who you are,” the Snow Queen interrupted, holding up a hand. “I have been watching your useless journey.” As she spoke, Minnie glanced at Ratface, trying to read his reaction, as he stayed absolutely still, eyes wide. “I had thought you all knew my lessons well...but it appears you refuse to learn, and so must be punished.”

Daisy found her voice very easily. “I'm glad to have flunked your lessons! You took away all the light and love of our world, and we're here to get it back!” Donald tried to hold her back, but this was proving futile. “Return Mickey to Minnie at once! They deserve to be together!”

“If that is what you wish.” The Queen's grip on her staff tightened, and it began to emit a faint blue glow – and so did one of the soldiers from the walls. He jumped onto one of the floating ledges, jumped again, and indeed this was Mickey, weapon at the ready, and within seconds it became clear that he wasn't returning to Minnie for a happy reunion.

“Scatter!” Donald cried, unable to think of anything else. He grabbed Minnie by the wrist and jumped onto the nearest floating ice patch which proved quite slippery, and Ratface took to the air. Goofy stumbled backwards, and Mickey landed at the foot of the stairs, ready to start the chase anew – and then Daisy threw herself at the boy, arms around his neck, trying to tug him backwards.

“Mickey, you must wake up!” She pleaded – all those in the Golden Kingdom have been trained to fight the Queen's soldiers, and she hoped it would finally do some good. “Your true love came all the way to save you! Don't you remember?” Mickey wordlessly clenched Daisy's arm, and threw her off with one hard swing – Goofy held up his arms to catch her, and wound up bowling into the reindeer, who were doing all in their power not to fall off the path.

“He has two shards within,” the Queen said calmly, as Mickey ran ahead to catch up with Donald and Minnie. “His memories are gone, and there is no power that can restore them. Such is the fate that awaits you all.” More soldiers began to light up, signaling they were about to join the fray.

“Not good not good not good!” Donald yelped as he tried to keep his footing, and Minnie, on the floating ledge, seeing the other soldiers getting off the wall. Mickey landed hard on the same patch, causing the ledge to tilt his way. Donald staggered, and then pushed Minnie hard. “Go!” and she obeyed, trying to hop onto the nearest ledge. “All right, you big palooka, let's see you-” but Mickey was in no mood for exchanging pleasantries – he smacked Donald hard with his spear once, twice, and when Donald tried to duck and tackle, it was like hitting a brick wall. Mickey shoved him aside, and leapt on to the ledge where Minnie had just begun to slide on the ice.

She fell onto her side, and gasped as Mickey stuck his spear into her dress to keep her there. She gazed up at him, at his lifeless blue eyes that saw nothing. “Mickey,” she whimpered, but there was no reaction. Her mouth fell open, wanting to beg and plead, wanting to say all the things that built up since he'd been gone, but found no words to express them. The Snow Queen was right about one thing – he wasn't going to listen. Not like this. She then held her breath as she understood. “You're not my target.” No, if she wanted to fix things...

“Comin' through!” Goofy hollered – before riding on a reindeer that slammed Mickey off Minnie. Maybe he wasn't good for much in combat, but even an ice warrior had difficulty fending off hundreds of pounds of solid flesh and horns. Minnie sat up, and could see Donald and Daisy trying to hold their own with the soldiers that had joined the battle, reindeer rearing up and kicking and ramming any in their way. Any soldiers that fell off the path seemed to vanish, but were actually waiting until they hit the wall of brethren, so they could grab, climb, and start all over. Ratface tried to help as best he could, pecking and biting at the soldiers, but he made no affect at all.

Throughout this, the Snow Queen stayed in place, not truly watching, her eyes distant. As far as she was concerned, she already knew the ending. Once their bodies were worn out, she'd plunge her shards deep into their chests and add to her collection - this Minnie knew. The shards, the shards, it was all about the shards, and Minnie held her aching chest, seeing what others could not. She had to act quickly, before another soldier came for her, but her movements felt tired and sluggish due to the chill in her heart.

“I know what you want to do!” Minnie cried out as loud as she could, though it did not turn the Snow Queen's head. “You plan to use your shards on us all!”

“It is your punishment,” the Snow Queen replied without looking at her. “And it will be what is best for you, and for the world. A world without love is a safer world.”

“How can you say that it's best...” Minnie staggered, but kept on, her back hunched over. “When you don't understand at all? One shard takes over the body... two shards takes over the mind... but you never put a second shard in your heart!”

At last, this made the Snow Queen's head whip around, her eyes wide. As if all attuned to her, all of the soldiers stopped what they were doing. Ratface dove for Minnie's side, flapping his wings hard in the air. “What are you saying?! I know what I saw, she pushed them right into her heart!”

“You saw her push in one shard!” Minnie rebuked, her eyes still on the stunned Queen. “But she closed herself away before you saw anything else... I know she didn't take the second one! It never happened! She remembers everything, she hasn't lost a single memory!”

The Snow Queen's began to turn towards Minnie, her face staying the same but her eyes darkening. “Your fear drives you to insanity, child.” Her voice still had the same disturbing calmness – but the words shook, holding back. “I remember nothing, as do all of my soldiers. That's why they will never wake up and return to their lives. I gave to them the same thing I gave to myself.”

“Liar!” Minnie screeched, and though she felt tears near her eyes, they lacked any natural warmth. “You're lying! I know you never gave yourself another shard, and you still have your memories in you... because if you didn't... because if you truly forgot everything the demon did to you...we wouldn't be here!” She held out her hand, gesturing to the horrors all around her. “You wouldn't be trying to 'save us' from love, if you didn't remember every part of it for yourself! If you really wanted it gone, you would have erased it from yourself entirely! But... you kept it....” Her breath hitched, as she felt her very insides growing numb. “I know what the demon did to you, I know the things he said and what happened to your wings...”

The Snow Queen's free hand began to shake, before curling up, fingernails pressed into her palm. “If you really do know what happened to me... then you know why I erased those memories. I would want nothing to remember him by. There is no truth to your words, I will not hear them!” Suddenly her once peaceful voice became louder, and all of the soldiers turned toward Minnie. One by one, they began moving toward her, and her friends became more frantic in their efforts to stop them.

“You do remember, and I know why you kept those memories!” Minnie heard Mickey coming for her, and knew that he would show her no mercy, that no matter the tears she shed or the answer to his last question, he was gone, and would stay gone if she stopped. “Because despite all the pain you feel, despite what happened to your wings, despite everything... You don't want to get rid of the memories, of that time when one person made you feel loved!”

“Silence!” The Snow Queen's frozen facade began to break, and the mirror atop her staff glowed deeply, harshly. “It's not true! None of it's true! Make her stop!”

Mickey came up behind Minnie and grabbed her by the arm, forcing her backwards, but she pulled forward, even as her bones began to grow cold, even as her muscles lost their feeling, even as every part of her was in endless pain. “He made you feel like you were important! Like you were special! He made you see a part of you that you never knew was there... and he made you happy! You never wanted to forget that, you couldn't go through with it! No matter how much it hurt to remember, you wanted to keep him with you!”

How much was she speaking of the Snow Queen, and how much was she speaking of herself? She could no longer tell, the lines between these lost lives now growing blurry. Ratface had stopped his flying, stunned at what was being said, his beak agape, mind in the past. Donald, Daisy, and Goofy kept trying to fight past the soldiers, to save their dear friend, but all they could do was delay the inevitable by mere minutes.

“That's why you're doing this!” Minnie yelled as Mickey held her arms behind her back, to the point where she was certain something would break soon. “You hoped that if you got rid of everyone's love, yours would vanish on its own! But it won't! It never will!”

“Stop it! STOP IT!” The Snow Queen – Magica – had begun to scream, clutching her hair, all the emotions she had tried to kill rising up and clawing at her throat. “I SAID STOP IT!”

Mickey's hand came for her throat, and Minnie used the last of her strength, “After all this time, more than you love mortals, more than you love helping them, even now – You still love him!”

“NOOOOOO!” Magica's hands were on the staff now, not even aware of what her powers were doing, all she could hear was the voice she wanted to silence and all of its truth. The mirror began to crack, over and over, and then – it in a wind as harsh as a scorned lover, shards flew out and sank into Minnie's chest. Not just one, or, two, or even three – countless shards entered her chest, and her eyes lost their color, her entire body went white, and then -

“Minnie!” Ratface shrieked, taking to the sky, but it was too late. Ice formed from within Minnie's chest, and then quickly climbed all over her body, encasing her like a clear coffin, growing up and down in an icicle that could not be broken. Mickey was flung backwards by the sheer force of it, although he was quick to stand up and await more orders from his Queen. All the soldiers were doing the same, stopping in place, as the ice around Minnie finally stopped. All the color was stripped from her body, even her clothes, and not even the blue from her veins could be seen anymore.

Magica dropped her staff in silent shock, her hands trembling as they came to her mouth. “No... no... w-what have I done...?”

“Minnie!” Daisy burst into tears, but that didn't stop her from running towards the wall of ice that held her friend, Donald and Goofy in tow. “Minnie, darling! Minnie, wake up!” She banged her fists on the ice, but not even a speck came off. Donald slammed his hands hard, and Goofy had one of his reindeer bang into it, but nothing would make the prison budge.

“Pretty girl!” Ratface tried to claw at the ice with his talons, yet couldn't leave a scratch. He hadn't cried since he betrayed his lost love, but now tears fell hard, as he scratched and scrabbled. “No, no! You were supposed to be different! Oh, I should never have taken you here! I should have left you be!” He hit his wings on the ice until his small body gave out, and he dropped from the sky. Daisy caught him in her arms, and they wept together, unable to look away from Minnie's lifeless body.

They were not alone in their grief – Magica fell to her knees, shaking her head wildly, as if that would undo the life she'd taken. “This... This wasn't supposed to happen! I was trying to help you! I... I was trying...” But the words fell flat, doing no good, being forced to confront reality – that in her years of reigning torment, she hadn't helped anyone. Why did that girl keep fighting, when she knew she couldn't win? Why did she keep moving forward when everyone else had given up? Magica didn't know, and didn't know what to do. She'd never given anyone more than a second shard. The third was only a threat, only to keep them in line, only to protect mortals from the pain of love! “I wanted to help...”

The soldiers kept waiting for orders, unable to grasp what was happening around them. As Mickey waited with them, a red blur touched his face.

It was one of the rose petals from Minnie's hair, all of them now floating gently downwards, having been flung from her body as she'd been encased. None of the soldiers acknowledged it. Mickey went to remove it, as it was an obstacle, and all obstacles had to be eliminated, so he picked it off his face and -

And he stopped. His hollow eyes remained on this petal, staring intensely, for reasons unknown to him. He felt it between his fingers, though he could no longer feel anything at all. So why was he holding onto it? Why did he refuse to let it go? He knew he had seen this color somewhere else. It meant something to him, more than orders from his Queen. This was more than a color, more than a petal. It was a symbol, an accomplishment, it had been work and effort and determination, never giving up despite all the odds. He knew this, because... because... didn't he...?

Slowly, his eyes went up, looking at the girl in the ice. Why did she have this? Who... was she...?

“...Minnie...?”

~*~

Little Minnie laid in the snow, knowing it was piling on her but unable to feel it. She couldn't feel anything, and it was getting harder to see anything in the pitch black night. Her voice was worn out from screaming for Papa, it was clear he wasn't coming. She was all alone.

Except Minnie of the present was there too. She blinked down at her younger form, pitiful and pathetic as she took shallow gulps of air. She remembered this night very clearly, and at her worst moments and deepest fears, it came back to her with resounding force. Sometimes it felt like she'd never escape this night, and maybe she hadn't, maybe everything up to now had been a mad dream of death. She sighed, and looked at the door, knowing Papa and Mama were on the other side. This had been done as an act of love, twisted and cruel as it was. He'd only wanted to protect her, to show what would happen if she defied the Snow Queen.

And he was right, wasn't he? Wasn't she dead? Or something close to it. She hadn't been able to defeat the Snow Queen and rescue Mickey. She led several innocent lives along her insane quest and now they'd be turned into mindless soldiers too. Everything had been for naught. Maybe it would have been best for everyone if she really did die this night.

She'd been scared of the cold for so long, letting fear hold her back from everything. Now here she was, devoured by it, and she looked down at her child self, wishing she could warn her of the terrible things to come. Maybe if she did, she could avoid this awful fate and save her friends. Papa had done this for the best. Papa had meant well.

She knelt down in the snow, but as she began to brush the powder off of her younger form, she paused as her eyes reflected herself. She saw her fur had now gone completely white, as opposed to the child beneath her, dark as night. She really had been so small, so weak, so fragile. If they had waited a minute more to get her inside, would she have truly died? All to protect her, to punish her for believing in Mickey's dream? Instead of fighting for their child's right to happiness, or their own, they would have rather let her suffer? They too had been afraid, they too had let fear hold them back. She understood what they had done, but...

“What Papa did was wrong,” Minnie said quietly, for the first time in her life acknowledging the sin of her elder. “Even if an act is done with love and worry...it can still be wrong. And you didn't deserve this.” Carefully, she scooped the child up into her arms and held her to her chest. “We didn't deserve it... I didn't deserve it. I wanted to believe in a future where I could be loved and happy... and that was not a bad thing.” She was so cold, but the child was... warm? Like a soothing fire that crackled and welcomed, and the snow around them began to slow down to a halt.

What was this new feeling in her heart? It was so unlike any of the other emotions she had discovered. It was soft, yet bold, taking a firm grip in her soul and giving her strength. It was a strange happiness, a new confidence, it was something she had never known was possible and yet now that she knew it – she felt she understood everything.

Like mirrors all around her, she could see Ratface, Daisy, Donald, Goofy, her parents, the Snow Queen, and Mickey, cheerful Mickey, wonderful Mickey, and around them she saw herself and what she'd done with them – for them. All the times she had listened to their burdens, offering shoulders to cry on, friendships and devotion, courage and conviction, sacrificing her own well-being for their own.

Was this love? Was this how love was supposed to feel? This...was not the love that Magica had tried so hard to erase, because Magica didn't have this kind of love. So very few people did, and that had to change. This was why it had hurt the Queen so deeply to be betrayed, why Ratface had given up everything to save her, why Goofy stayed with his abusive family, why Donald had given into anger so much, why Daisy threw so many of her parties, why Papa and Mama never told Minnie a word of kindness, why everything had stayed the same and nothing had changed.

This love was unique for every person, and Minnie smiled as she understood, as the younger version of her vanished, taking its proper place in her heart. She held herself, and warmth overflowed every single part of her body, as if the entire sun was blossoming inside of her. She knew the name of this love, and she knew it would free her.

“I am a good person,” she said softly, eyes shut. “I try my best to help those I see, and it makes me feel good when I do. I have helped people find their bravery, I have defeated evils that can no longer hurt others, I have taken steps no one else dared to see. And from now on, no matter what happens... I promise... I will never stop loving myself!”

When she opened her eyes, the ice encasing her began to split, then hiss, and then in a flurry of heat and water, broke apart entirely, flooding the crevasse below with pools of warm water. As her feet touched the floating ledge, grass began to take root suddenly, growing at a wild rate, wildflowers popping into existence in every shade of the rainbow. The ledges fell into the water, floating around, and the flowers and grass continued to grow, melting the icy pathway and giving life and form to the ground. Minnie laughed as the water splashed at her shoes, grabbing the ends of her dress and twirling around. The white was gone from her hair, and the blue was gone from her skin. At last, at long last, her nightmares were over.

Mickey dropped the petal from his hand – he remembered being a boy and planting seed after seed, never stopping despite how many failures he'd encountered, all for the sake of bringing hope to the village he loved. He knew he could save his people, he knew he was doing good for them, and he – yes, he could – he could also love himself – and with that, the spell on him was utterly destroyed, the blue on his skin evaporating at once, the fresh color of his eyes were restored. He dropped his spear, staring down at his hands, with his normal clothes restored to him as well as his heart, his breath, his ability to feel and touch. Then that delightful sound touched his ears – Minnie, laughing. Had he ever heard her laugh before? It was the most beautiful sound in the whole world.

“Minnie!” he cried, and he ran towards her, unable to last a second longer without her in his embrace. But he wasn't alone on that account – just as he'd taken her his arms, her name was joyfully shouted over and over by the friends she'd made -Daisy went for a rather hard tackle, taking all three of them down into the knee deep water, and Donald joined in, ruffling Minnie's hair between her ears, then came Goofy, seizing everyone into his long arms for a great big squeeze.

Ratface dove into Minnie's lap, pushing his head to her chest. “You stupid girl!” He sobbed openly, even as Minnie held him and kissed his head. “How dare you do this to me again! I'll leave for good this time, I swear it, you'll never see me anymore!”

“I love you too, Ratface,” Minnie said with an extra giggle, and then she looked around, unable to stop smiling, joy in every word. “I love all of you, with all of my heart! I'm so glad to have met you, and be with you! I'm so glad to be alive! I'm...” Yet she trailed off, once her eyes fell on the shocked Snow Queen. The other soldiers stayed in place, still trapped, and she had yet to move, eyes wide and mouth open.

Mickey jerked, and then went on the defensive, standing up with fists clenched. “You! After all you've done...” But Minnie gently pushed aside all the tender holds and stood up, placing a hand on Mickey's fist to lower it.

“How...?” Magica asked breathlessly, her hat sliding off her hair and rolling onto the ground. Her glorious throne was cracking and melting. “How... did you come back? I don't understand. You kept trying, and you didn't stop, no matter what I did or what anyone else threw at you. How can you still stand up? How are you alive?”

Minnie picked up the ends of her dress so she could walk out of the ocean she'd created, and stepped onto the grass, which many reindeer had now taken as lunch. She stood in front of Magica, and smiled. “You couldn't erase love, no matter how hard you tried. No, not really. You made parents afraid of loving their children, of villages afraid to love their people, and of two people afraid to be together. But there was a love you could never destroy, because you didn't know it existed... because you never felt it yourself. And that kind of love will always find a way, even if it takes centuries.”

Kindly, lightly, she leaned over and held Magica by her cheeks, lifting her face up. “You never knew how to love yourself.”

She looked back at her friends, who watched in awe, candles of comprehension beginning to burn within. “We all forgot how to do it... and so many of us need another's love in order to see it for ourselves. We become so focused on loving another that we can't see the good in us. We look for others to make us feel special, because we can't find it in ourselves. But... it is there. Sometimes it needs help, but it is there. We can all find a way to love ourselves.”

Tenderly, she stroked Magica's hair as she would do to Ratface's feathers. “And you? It won't be easy, after all the pain you've caused... but I know you can find it too. The person you used to be, who helped others because that is what they liked to do. The person the demon fell in love with. She's still there, and she deserves love, the same as everyone else does. Everyone deserves love... especially from themselves.” With that, she gently kissed the top of Magica's head.

The final touch of pure warmth melted the spells – the palace of ice began to dissolve, and the soldiers staggered, waking up, one by one, some falling over in shock, others running to their loved ones in mad joy. Magica's minks and robes fell apart, revealing the divine, simplistic robes she once wore as an angel of the earth. Magica gasped, pained, and then suddenly she held Minnie closely, weeping into her, and Minnie allowed it, continuing to stroke her head and let centuries of agony pass through.

The staff fell apart, melting away until there was only the mirror left, and the crack still remained, except now it did not look so terrible. In a different light, it was not seen as an imperfection, but a quirk, perhaps. Broken still, but not inherently bad because of it. All around them, the forest quickly regrew into its natural state, the water rolling away into the open mud and dirty path. The clouds parted, and when Magica lifted her teary face, Minnie could see herself reflected in those eyes again, and she was proud of what she beheld.

“I'm sorry,” Magica groaned, her fingers holding firmly onto Minnie's dress. “It's not enough, it will never be enough, but I am sorry.”

“Not everyone will forgive you,” Minnie said gently, “And the wounds you made will take a long time to heal. But...I think anyone can start over, if they really want to try.” She glanced backward, and met Ratface's eyes. He gulped audibly, but knew he could stand back and watch as a mere audience member no longer. He stepped back, then forward, flapping into the air and landing on Minnie's chest. He tucked his beak softly to her chin, a silent show of gratitude for the journey she had taken and all she had endured. She kissed his beak in return, thankful for the way he'd shown her and the protection he'd tried to give.

Minnie held out her arm, and Ratface walked down along it, trembling quietly as he looked at Magica, who was quietly watching him in return. Slowly, Magica held out her hands, and Ratface walked into them, his eyes blurry with years of tears. “I was so caught up in the bliss of loving you,” he murmured, “that I never considered the world around me, and that the things I had done that would catch up to us. I wanted so desperately to be special, to be better than everyone, when I could have been content with me being me... as long as I was with you. I will not ask your forgiveness, I will never deserve it. But I beg you here and now... to let yourself be free to love yourself for the first time.”

Magica said nothing still, but she lowered her head, pressing her forehead to his own. The concept of loving herself had never been thought, had never been experienced, and the idea was frightening after all the pain and misery she had caused. Minnie picked up the fallen mirror, and offered it back to Magica, and in this gesture the angel could see the person she once was – the one who had been so terrified of falling to temptation she'd given away her magic. “Whoever you were,” Minnie said, her smile feeling immortal, “she may still be deep inside you. I think you can find her again.”

It would be a long, difficult task to do so, but Magica could feel Ratface – Gladstone – nudging her with his wing, urging her to try again. Maybe now she could think as Minnie did – to do nothing was tantamount to giving up, to being dead already, and the only way to attempt to fix the problem was to try. Try, try, and try again. Minnie, with no powers of her own save for her own heart, had come this far. It was time to see how far a fallen angel could go. Magica's fingers brushed up to the crack in the mirror. “Thank you, child,” she said softly, and the mirror began to glow. “Thank you for breaking my rules.”

Then the glow became bright, bright enough to blind but not enough to pain, like the summer sun shining down for the first time in ages. When Minnie could see again, the two were gone, but up in the sky, she could have sworn she saw a pair of ravens flying away. Sparks of sunlight fell from the sky, and for every sunny spark that fell, the soldiers began to wake up, their eyes clearing, their hearts open, and there was gasping and crying and cheering and singing. Loved ones were reunited, and the world was free. Ah, but yet, not all was done, so Minnie remembered. She turned around, facing the proud expressions of her companions. “Mickey... I have an answer to your question.”

“Oh!” Mickey's breath caught, and he stumbled forward, so overcome with excitement he nearly forgot how to walk. Daisy giggled as she stepped aside, Donald rolled his eyes as he pulled Daisy in by the shoulder, and Goofy began to earnestly sniffle. “Right! Th-the question! Of course! I mean, I'm sorry about the jewel, and everything, I wasn't in my right mind, wasn't in any mind, I was...” He cleared his throat, understanding he was going nowhere fast. He took a slow breath to try and calm down, and then knelt in front of Minnie, taking her hand. “Minnie... I love you with all my heart. I feel like I always have. And now I know, together, we can rebuild our village...and we can do it side by side. So, Minnie, will... will you marry me?”

Minnie tenderly put her hand atop of Mickey's, and inhaled, exhaled – she had been confident of this answer ever since she woke up to what she had been missing, and there wasn't a doubt in her heart that her choice would be the right one. She knew exactly what to say.

“No.”

Mickey's jaw dropped open in shock, but it was Daisy who yelled, “WHAT?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Goofy tilted his head. “Did I miss a step?”

Donald rapidly gestured between the mice. “You went through all that, and you say no?! Why?”

To that, Minnie let out a soft laugh. “Because I only just allowed myself to be myself! All this time we've been growing up, I haven't been allowed to think or say or feel what I really mean. How can I be sure if Mickey loves the real me, when I don't even know the real me yet?” She pulled Mickey up his feet, and closed his open mouth. “Yes, let us return home and free our families from the prison the Snow Queen made... and let's learn a little more about each other first, all right?”

Mickey snorted, but found he couldn't very well argue against her logic. He thought he'd be angry or disappointed, but instead, he felt a little relieved, and perhaps excited. “In that case... I can't wait to get to know the real you. I bet she's some kind of wonderful.”

Minnie looked to the sky, hoping she'd see one more glimpse of her flying friend, but he was nowhere to be found. The former soldiers were now embracing one another, eager to return to their friends and family. Daisy spotted her parents and flew into their arms, embracing each other with kisses. Goofy began to wail happily, and Donald sighed as he tugged him along, certain he'd need his help rounding up all the reindeer, yet couldn't find it in himself to complain.

At long, long last... winter had ended, and spring had come.

“Yes,” Minnie answered. “I bet she is.”

~*~

All the spells had been broken at last, and all who had shards within them were freed of their grasp. In the Golden Kingdom, the rightful rulers were quick to undo the damage their daughter had done – and best of all, allowed their child to be young again. Her beloved attempted the path of the guardsmen once more, and failed once more, yet he vowed to never truly give up. After all, he had a wondrous woman waiting for him at home, who gave him the confidence he lost. The outcast from the family of thieves found a new family, one that didn't consist of brothers and mothers, but of neighbors and friends who opened their arms and their hearts to him, helping him find a new home for him and all his furry friends.

The women who had become petite and porcelain dolls were now flesh and blood again, and they banded together to return to their families, eager to embrace the world that was new warm and loving as it was meant to be. The snows melted, and the ice thawed, and in one village, the joy of seeing lost ones return was enough to warm the cold souls of every single man and woman. There were wounds that needed to heal, traditions to be unearthed, and come the next year, there were beautiful roses that grew all over the land.

One day, when the village was colorful and happy and full of smiling people, there was a wedding for the first time in years.

Did they all live happily ever after? Oh, never count on such a thing. No life can ever be happy all the time, nor can it ever be constant sadness. But there is one thing to be certain of – so long as they kept love in their hearts for one another, and especially for themselves, there were far more happier times than ever before.

My pretty girl wouldn't have it any other way.

#fanfic #shattered #disney #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #donald duck #daisy duck #goofy #ratface #magica de spell #gladstone gander #magicstone

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princesssarcastia · 5 years

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Unfinished GOT Fic: Arya & Nymeria

At least one of you showed an interest in my game of thrones wips, so in honor of that...kinda lackluster episode we just watched, here's the first half of my unfinished “arya runs off with nymeria after the incident with Joffrey and Micah” au. This was written a couple years ago, be kind; and if you have suggestions/comments/etc, let me know!

Arya listens to the guards grow closer and closer. Yelling, armor clamoring. If she turned around, she’d probably see the lights from their torches.

She doesn’t turn around. Instead, she stares in growing desperation at Nymeria, who refuses to leave her side. Arya knows what will happen to her if they’re caught. She tries everything but yelling, because that will only draw the guards closer: pushing, shoving, angry words. Eventually she starts throwing rocks at Nymeria, trying to force her to run away, to follow her instincts.

‘She’s just a wolf’, Arya thinks, close to tears as she can make out the individual words the guards are calling out. Any moment one of them will get close enough to spot them. And then they will cut Nymeria in half and give her carcass to the butcher. Who knows what the king will do to her; he was supposedly her father’s friend, but Arya knows that father didn’t want to go to King’s Landing, yet here they are, so friendship can’t matter all that much to him.

There is also the fact that she is a child; she is cold and tired and scared and she didn’t mean to hurt the Prince but he had attacked her friend! What was she supposed to do, stand aside and let him? Like Sansa did?

So Arya looks at Nymeria, who is still sitting there, refusing to leave her side, refusing to run and save herself. Arya who is cold and tired and scared, who doesn’t know what is going to happen to her, looks down at this dire wolf who protected her when her sister didn’t, looks into Nymeria’s eyes and sees a plea there:

‘Come with me.’

When the guards come upon the spot she and Nymeria had been hiding in, they are long gone. Arya went with Nymeria, she ran and she ran and she ran, her wolf racing alongside her. I won’t say she never looked back, because she did. But she never once stopped.

Needle was abandoned at the campsite, buried in Arya’s packs. Her father finds it weeks later, and when he does he throws his head back and laughs and laughs and laughs, because of course she would.

Arya never meets Syrio Forel; there is no trainer to help her learn to fight with a sword. And that would be pointless anyway, because she no longer has one. He cannot teach her to be agile, or swift, or cunning, or stealthy, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t learn these things.

She learns from Nymeria, and from the wilderness around her. She has to be agile to make it through the woods. She has to be swift and stealthy to catch her food, though Nymeria does most of the work in the beginning. Arya has to be stealthy as well as cunning to avoid the men who travel through the woods: Mercenaries, guards, merchants, soldiers.

Arya also has to be stealthy in order to steal clothes from villages nearby, because her plainclothes weren’t meant to stand up to this kind of abuse. Breaking into places is hard, but she does it, getting food until she learns how to properly cook the things Nymeria brings her, and eventually, how to hunt all on her own.

She’s almost caught quite a few times, in the beginning. But Nymeria is always there, waiting to defend her and help her escape. The people start to tell stories about the wild girl who lives in the woods with a wolf as her protector, like some sort of wildling.

Before long, Arya realized that hunting would be much easier if she had a bow, like the one her brothers had trained with back at Winterfell. So the next time a group of soldier camp out in the woods she calls home, she sneaks into their camp, long after most of them have gone to sleep, and steals a bow, and a quiver full of arrows.

She would have taken one from one of the nearby villages, but, well, most people didn’t carry weapons. Most people couldn’t afford them.

The bow wasn’t perfect. It was too large for her, and the strength required to draw it was almost too much. But it was better than nothing. She spent almost two weeks practicing with it before she could hit anything more than a few yards away, and even then, she missed almost as much as she hit.

Sometimes she wished she were a wolf, like Nymeria was. Then she wouldn’t need weapons; she could just hunt with her teeth and her claws, could track with her nose. Arya even had dreams about it sometimes, ones that were so convincing she almost believed she was a wolf, until she woke.

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Arya tore into the rabbit she’d just pulled off the fire; the last two days her and Nymeria’s hunts had turned up almost nothing, and she was ravenous. She was so focused on her food she didn’t notice the shapes creeping up on her camp until it was too late.

Her eyesight, dimmed by the fire, could just make out one, two, three… six of them, creeping foreword, towards her and Nymeria.

It took her a moment to recognize the figures in front of her: wolves. An entire pack of them, from the looks of it. Arya hadn’t ever seen any wolves besides Nymeria; the ones in front of her looked unusually small, until she remembers that Nymeria was a direwolf. She was already a good six inches taller than the ones padding towards them.

Arya inched her hand slowly towards her bow, not sure how the wolves would react to the sudden movement. It didn’t seem to faze them at all, though; they were almost within spitting distance at this point, and their eyes were darting between her and Nymeria, who still lay on the ground next to her.

“Nymeria,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, her voice cracking from disuse. She let out a huff that Arya almost labeled a sigh before pushing to her feet, a low growl creeping from her chest. Arya could almost feel it through the ground.

The wolves halted in their tracks, their eyes all on Nymeria now. One of the wolves tensed, its lips peeling back from its teeth in a snarl, but Nymeria simply growled louder and it stopped, its ears pushing back against its skull. The other wolves hung their heads and rolled them to the side, baring their necks.

The challenger (because Arya could recognize that snarl for what it was; she’d had surprisingly similar conversations with her mother) crept foreword until it was right next to Nymeria, who was still growling, and licked her muzzle. Suddenly her growling stopped, and the resulting silence was jarring.

The rest of the pack of wolves moved forward and Nymeria padded among them, nuzzling their flanks while they circled around her, until one by one all of them sunk to the ground. Nymeria laid down next to them, seemingly content, and then turned to stare at Arya expectantly.

Arya stared back uncertainly, not sure what she was supposed to do now, or even what had just happened. Nymeria kept staring at her for a few moments before tilting her head at the open space to the left of her. Did…was she supposed to go lie down with them?

Just as slowly as she had picked it up, Arya set her bow down, and walked slowly over towards the pile of wolves whom Nymeria had just accepted for reasons Arya couldn’t wrap her head around. As she settled down next to Nymeria like she did every night, some of the other wolves flicked their ears towards her in acknowledgement but otherwise did nothing.

Arya’s eyes slowly slipped shut from the warmth emanating from Nymeria and the other wolves, rabbit forgotten; her last coherent thought was that it felt oddly nice, having a pack again, even if it wasn’t really hers.

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Arya woke up the following morning thinking it had all been a dream, and was surprised to find herself in the middle of the pack that had crept up on them last night.

She was even more surprised when it kept happening.

Every few nights a new group of wolves would appear, go through the same motions as the first, and then settle with them. Soon it seemed as though dozens of wolves were following her and Nymeria through the woods as they hunted for food, and for a new campsite.

There were so many of them that they didn’t even all stay with them; some of the wolves simply prowled around their sites, sleeping in groups almost a third of a league away. But when they started moving again, the entre pack moved with them.

Whenever Arya hunted alone through the woods, Nymeria having run off to follow a different scent, she would catch glimpses of them moving through the trees around her. Sometimes, they would drive prey her way, so she could hit it with one of her arrows and bring it down. They even left some of it for her, so she could haul it back to the fire and cook it.

Her aim had gotten much better, over the weeks since the other wolves had started finding her and Nymeria. She could hit a rabbit at nearly fifty paces now, while it was running. The bigger animals, like deer, were harder to find but easier to hit. She started to pick up tracking as well, recognizing the paw prints of all the different animals and the signs of their movements through the brush.

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It took a while to get used to the howling. The wolves that were furthest away would start it, and then the calls would echo closer and closer until Nymeria herself started howling. It would go on for almost an hour, sometimes.

They called out about fresh kills, too, and if they got lost. At least, Arya thought it was when they got lost; a lone wolf would call out and the rest of them would answer, and then the lone wolf got closer and closer until they burst through the trees and the others came up to surround them.

Sometimes Arya wanted to howl with them. Come find me, I’m right here!she wanted to call out. But she knew that her family wasn’t coming for her. They would never find her here. So she stayed silent, and listened to the wolves around her.

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The only wolf Arya could really recognize was the one from the first pack that had joined them, the one that had challenged Nymeria.

His fur was a russet color, almost like Robb’s hair had been, with streaks of black along its spine and shoulders. His eyes were an unsettling shade of yellow, so bright they seemed to glow in the dark.

Nymeria seemed to like him, at least. They laid down, their flanks pressed together, silently watching the comings and goings of the rest of the pack, and Arya wondered if maybe he was Nymeria’s mate.

One night, she sat next to them as she finished off the second little squirrel she’d caught earlier, and talked with them. Arya would say at them, because obviously they didn’t talk back, but something about the way they glanced at her made her feel like they were really listening.

“You know, you should probably have a name. You’re always sitting around here, and I can’t really just keep referring to you as ‘that one wolf that sort of looks like Robb’, even if its only in my head.” Arya dropped the bones next to her and started to lick her fingers clean, looking at the wolf thoughtfully all the while.

“Ooh, I could just call you Robb,” she said, but as soon as the words left her mouth she dismissed them. It sent a pang of sadness through her every time she said one of her brothers’ names.

“Aegon, maybe? I mean, Nymeria was a queen who conquered Dorne, maybe you should be a conqueror, too.” The name had merit, but it didn’t quite fit in Arya’s mind.

She thought back to the night he had first appeared and another idea struck her. “I know; Torrhen! The king who knelt. It’s a northern name, which fits better ‘cause you’re a wolf, and you sort of knelt to Nymeria when you first met her.”

Torrhen, newly christened, and Nymeria both glanced at her, but they didn’t really seem to have an opinion one way or another, so Arya took that as assent.

#game of thrones #got #got fic #got s1e2 #arya stark #nymeria #au #got au

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marlettpines · 6 years

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So I just had a really weird dream.

This is really long, so TL;DR at the bottom.

I was at some sort of cosplay convention with my best friend and my girlfriend. For some reason, my kind of cat (for context, his name is Little Dude/ Little Man. He doesn't technically belong to us, but his owners don't take care of him, so we feed him and let him in at night and stuff) anyway, this cat was loose at the convention.

So my best friend, my girlfriend and I all split up and look for clues. I'm rushing through this convention asking cosplayers if they've seen a cat. Most of them say no. I come across a Harry, Ron, and Hermione trio and pop the question.

"No, sorry," say Harry and Ron.

Hermione chimes in with,

"No, but-" and then proceeds to tell me about this rewards ceremony/ cosplay convention she was excited about attending. Harry and Ron are starting to look really uncomfortable. I shuffle away.

As I'm awkwardly yeeting myself away from the conversation, I hear some guy to my left go:

"-and then this LITTLE DUDE-"

My ears perk up, 'cause hey. Little Dude! So the guy tells me where he went and I run off to god knows where.

My group eventually comes across some of our friends and they join the search. After awhile my mini search party finally discovers Little Man sitting beneath a stage in a tiny abandoned upstairs dining room. All of the chairs and tables were kind of haphazardly put up, and there were salmon pink tablecloths draped over everything.

So 99% of our group starts looking for a way to retrieve the cat. My best friend tells me to text my girlfriend, who, for whatever reason, wasn't present at the moment. Two of our friends flag down a janitor walking by to help them shoo the cat out from under the stage.

Then. Some. Fucking weirdo. Comes up and is like

"Hey since it's your cat, why don't you try to get him out and I'll text your girlfriend for you?" with like, the sleaziest grin on his face.

Of course I say no, and point out that he doesn't even know her, so he can't possibly have her number.

"Awww come on, I'll be nice. Just give me your phone and then I'll have the number!"

"Wtf, no."

So three people come in and restrain the guy while I text my girlfriend.

I left the room after that for some reason. Maybe to go find her? Who knows. Anyways, I was trying to make my way downstairs when I met up with like 3 Mob Psycho looking dudes. One was trying to teach the others how to be their character, I think. Anyway, we all go down this huge slide to get downstairs which was some weird cross between a plastic playground slide and a bouncy house slide. Real rubbery.

My friends, my girlfriend, and I all pile onto this bus (because apparently this was all some school field trip kinda thing???) and set off to go home. Just as we're passing this big amusement park, my OC Kul, who I hadn't even noticed was PRESENT until this point, starts talking to someone.

The bus driver brings the bus to a screeching halt and starts berating him for speaking.

"Why are you making so much noise back there, huh?! What are you doing?!"

Kul is really chill about it. He just kinda shrugs at the driver.

"I dunno. Just talking."

For some reason, this causes the driver to pull into the amusement park and offer to buy him a bag of gummy worms. The end.

TL;DR, I dreamt I went to a cosplay convention and lost my cat. On the drive back home the bus driver gets upset at my OC for talking, buys him a bag of gummy worms.

#marlettpines #dream #weird #weird dream #long dream #cat #cosplay #convention #cosplay convention #OC #Kul #my OC

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noodle-girl1 · 6 years

Text

A review of everything we've got so far...

(Dammit. I posted this on Reddit like a month ago but forgot to post it here. Sorry!)

Hi everyone! I thought it’d be good to summary all the small Kabaneri news we have gotten so far in one single post. After all, we have been given a lot of those and it’s always good to have everything properly explained. In this post, I’ll be talking about the new and old characters, trains, weapons, kabane and scenarios. Oh, and about the countdown on the game’s website too. If you want to go straight to that part, you can just go to the bottom of this post.

But before I actually get there, it’s important to clear some things up. I’ve seen a lot of people saying that all the recent news are for S2, others saying they are for the game, and others saying they are for the movie. So let me make this clear: so far, there isn’t any confirmation of a second season. Yet. Back in 2016, after the anime aired, a 2018 project was confirmed by the official Twitter account. Turns out that 2018 project was the game, even though people said it’d be S2, back in 2016. All we know is that there’ll be a new Kabaneri movie, and a Kabaneri game. No S2. So put that idea aside, for now at least.

Now, even for the movie, there isn’t much information to mention here. All we were given regarding that topic was just a very poor PV, and that’s about it. This means that all the information I’m leaving below is about the game (though that should be obvious enough since it’s the Kabaneri game Twitter account that has been posting all of it…).

Here is the trailer for the Kabaneri movie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NvIVRc_yg0E

And here’s the trailer for the Kabaneri game (directly linked from the game’s official YouTube channel): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uuF46TqOpTM

Now that this is all cleared up, I’ll be talking about everything that was revealed so far for the game “Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress Revolt- Beginning Tracks”. Reminder that most of this information was revealed on Twitter, which means there isn’t really much to say. This obviously leads to a lot of speculation, but for now I’ll just leave what we objectively know. With that being said, I’ll start by talking about the new and old characters.

New and old characters

New characters

Kaname 要（カナメ）（声優：小松昌平）, voiced by Shohei Komatsu

Kaname is one of the main new characters for this game. I’d risk to say he’s the protagonist of this game, judging by the main visual, but then again, I won’t go ahead speculating in this post. Kaname is an orphan from the Katsuki Station（勝木駅）. He treasures his family the most, and it is said by the official game Twitter account that he’s going to be an important character.

Haya 葉矢（ハヤ）（声優：黒沢ともよ）, voiced by Tomoyo Kurosawa

Just like Kaname, Haya is an orphan from the Katsuki Station. She plays more of an older sister role, and she’s very good at getting along with everyone.

Chihiro 千尋（チヒロ）（声優：梅原裕一郎）, voiced by Yuichiro Umehara

Just like Haya, Chihiro does play an older brother role. Again, being from Katsuki Station, he valorizes his family and would do anything to protect them, even the worst things possible. He’s described as a gently and strictly watching presence, as well as being absolutely fine to trust in.

Yatori 八鳥（やとり）

There isn’t much information about Yatori, other than that she’s a new character and clearly has a function related to the stations and Hayajiros. The staff mentions how beautiful she is, but that’s about it.

Kouhime 香姫（こうひめ）

Just like with Yatori, there isn’t much information about Kouhime. Other than saying she’s the most beautiful Kabaneri character, the staff only mentions that she’s a princess. Princess of Mikawa.

Kanou 狩能 (かのう)

This one character doesn’t appear in the game PV, and all we know is that he’s the owner of that new pile bunker weapon (which I’ll be talking about in the weapons section). He’s apparently a samurai, and is a man of big body and heart. Other than that, it is mentioned that he’ll be an important character in the game. Notice that he holds a master key…

Blondie (let’s call her that…)

Now, this character... She does appear in the game PV, but we literally know nothing about her. Not even her name.She does appear in the game’s main visual, and right in the middle of it, so I guess it’s safe to say that she’ll have an important role in the story. She also appears in the game PV standing right next to Kaname, holding a gun, on top of a train surrounded by kabane, so she clearly fights the kabane too.

2. Old characters

Nothing really has changed for the old characters, other than their outfits. Some of them… Aren’t as good as S1’s, but they’re not bad by any means! Well then, let’s get into it!

Ikoma

Maybe some of you didn’t know, so let me clear that up for you right now. Yes, Ikoma has now a mechanical arm.And if that doesn’t sound cool enough to you yet, be ready because there’s more. He’ll also be able to switch from his mechanical arm to his weapon. Isn’t that, like, REALLY cool? I personally love the idea!

Mumei

As you can see, only thing that really changed was her jacket, which I honestly think that exploded with Biba’s Kokujou. Mumei still looks damn good though.

Kurusu

Remember how Kurusu partially destroyed his outfit after falling off that train with the green haired scientist (IIRC his name was Souma)? Right. As you can see, the staff basically tried to fix his clothes without giving him new ones. Ayame is broke and can’t even get her boyfriend some new and even more badass clothes.Shame!

Ayame

Well, there isn’t much to say here. She looks exactly the same. What a beauty!

Trains

Shunjou 駿城

So far, this is the only Hayajiro that we have information of. We know there are at least two new Hayajiros for the game: this blue one, and the other red one (both seen in the game PV). So we’ll have information about the other one soon or later. For now, let’s talk about this Shunjou. Here we can have a look at both its inside and outside. Looks cool!The main Kabaneri game squad will be riding on it.

Weapons

1. Ikoma’s piercing gun (1)

As you can see, nothing really has changed. Ikoma is still going to be using the spring to fire his gun, which means he only needs to extend his arm to do it. Again,reminder that he’s going to be able to switch between his mechanical arm and his piercing gun. That’s so cool!

2. Piler bunker (2)

This weapon belongs to Kanou, the character presented above, and it’s called a piler bunker. "Tool or weapon composed of a pneumatic or hydraulic piston connected to a spiked shaft and recoil springs. Uses rapid compression to drive the piston forward which in turn drives a spike into an object, in a matter similar to that of a pneumatic hammer (jackhammer), only the spike goes far into the object and then retracts quickly, readying itself for another strike." This is all we know about it, but oh well, it looks cool.

3. Haya’s guns (3)

There isn’t much to say about her guns. I personally like how small they are, which matches with the cute vibes Haya gives us. I guess they are a smaller version of Mumei’s guns…? I wonder.

4. This… Needle thing? (4)

Honestly I’m not sure if this should be put in the guns section. Honestly… Don’t ask me what this thing is, because I don’t know either. It’s so weird… There aren’t any tweets talking about it (so far at least), but this thing is right at the center of the game main visual, so it’s got to be important. It has also appeared in the game trailer, but it’s still hard to tell what it really is. What do you guys think?

5. Kaname’s guns (5)

Apparently called "Steam Knuckle Derringer" (correct me if I'm wrong). They’re meant to be shot at long distance targets, and the knife used for short distance targets. Kinda similar to Mumei’s gun, I’d say.

6. Holsters (6)

Nothing much to say here, other than both Haya and Kaname seem to use this type of holsters for their guns.

Kabane

Well… I think the first thing we can all point out here is that all these new Black Smokes are insect shaped. Image number 2 being a spider, 3 a grasshopper, and 4 a frog. As for the other images, we can see some other weird Black Smokes… Truth is that all of them lead to huge speculation!

Scenarios

As for the scenarios, I tried to divide them into two different categories. First one being battle fields and destroyed stations, and the second one being actual functional stations. Let’s start with the former.

As you can see, most of them are totally messed up by the kabane. We can even see a kabane nest in the first picture…Which is terrifying. We can also see images with Mumei apparently exploring these same abandoned places,and not only through her clothes but also through the images themselves, we can tell it’s Winter season (though that a six month time skip happened in the Kabaneri recap movies already…).

As for the latter category,

Katsuki Station's foreground. This station is known for being a poor one, where people even have to resell the garbage they find around. Kaname, Haya and Chihiro are from this station. (1)

Again, we can see Katsuki Station and its garbage collecting work, in some mountain. (2)

The actual reselling of the garbage found in the mountain, and a man evaluating it to know how much it is worth for. (3)

“Katsuki Station – Night Stand”. The group is having a juicy night meal. The original tweet mentions it’s certainly not rice, since that’d be a treasure considering Kabaneri’s world. (4)

Market of Sanashita Station, a lively and happy station. (5)

Station in the historical province of Hida. (6)

Sanashita Station. (7)

Sanage Station. Sanage is a medium-sized station in Mikawa. (8)

As you all may image, some of the station names might be wrong, if not totally wrong. All of them. Who knows… It’s hard to translate Japanese station names. XD

I’ve been collecting most of this information from the Kabaneri game account’s tweets, as well as picking some references from Inner Chorus (on Tumblr) https://innerchorus.tumblr.com/ and many other big Kabaneri fans who are thirsty for news and details and all that. Apologies if there are any mistakes above, and please let me know if there are any so I can correct those.

For now, all we can do is to wait. A countdown in the official game website had started something like a month ago. Once that countdown ended, we were all expecting a new Kabaneri game trailer, but nope. All given to us was just even more information...: the Kabaneri game will be exhibited at the Tokyo Game Show 2018 event, happening from September 20th to 23rd. Additionally, more information is expected to be revealed in the middle of September. For now, there's new merchandise that can be found on the game's website.

Here’s some of the information added to the website regarding the TGS 2018 event:

WIT STUDIO's animation opening to be first publicly revealed

Gameplay pre-release

Kabaneri of Iron Castle - Ran (the game) final information release

"Kabaneri of Iron Fortress ~ Unato Kessen ~" information release

This is all we have for now. Can’t wait for the news coming at the end of the month! :D

On a side note, if you want to get all the updates on first hand, feel free to join our Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress Discord fan server. We post there all the news as soon as they are released, and we even have a few leaks, sometimes. :P

Here is the link to join it: https://discord.gg/dVFxjbs

You can also find this post on both Reddit and YouTube. Reddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/koutetsujounokabaneri/comments/9a2yg5/a_review_of_everything_weve_got_so_far/

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQPQmDzmNcM&t=8s

#kabaneri #koutetsujou no kabaneri #kabaneri of the iron fortress #kabaneri game #kabaneri leaks #ikoma #mumei #カバネリ #カバネリ乱 #甲鉄城のカバネリ

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tiny-maus-boots · 6 years

Text

Missing Her

“Bec?” Chloe cautiously opened the door to the room Beca shared with Fat Amy and poked her head in. She smiled at the sight of Beca passed out spread eagle on the bed with her headphones still on even though her laptop had long since gone into sleep mode. A tiny snort of a snore made her bite her lip to keep from giggling. It was the cutest damn thing she’d ever seen. At least so far today. But then she thought most things Beca were the cutest damn thing she’d ever seen. It made her loathe to wake her up but she stepped quietly into the room anyway. “Beca?”

“Mm.” It wasn’t so much of a response as an annoyed grunt but Chloe decided it was enough and padded to her friend’s bed, settling herself on the edge of it so she could gently shake Beca’s shoulder. One unfocused eye opened, blinked twice and fluttered closed again. God. Beca Mitchell was…adorable. Even when she was being a lazy sleep monster. This time the giggle bubbled past her lips and she didn’t even try to stop it. “Wha? M’wake.”

“Yeah. I can tell what with the closed eyes and everything.” This time both of Beca’s eyes opened and blinked rapidly as she focused in on Chloe. She smiled sunnily at the clearly still foggy woman, her smile growing wider even as she saw the cranky slide behind Beca’s eyes. “Oh good you’re awake.”

“Uh. Only because some jerk decided to sit on my bed and stare at me until I opened my eyes.” It made Chloe laugh because she knew Beca wasn’t actually irritated. Beca sat up slowly, pulling her headphones off and setting them to the side carefully. The palms of her hands came up to press against her eyes and she grunted. “Chlo. It’s Sunday morning. You know even God got to sleep in on Sunday morning right?”

It was quiet and she hazarded a glance at Chloe who was still beaming sweetly at her. How was it even possible to be that gloriously cheerful this early? Or that beautiful? Wasn’t that like illegal or something? “It’s almost noon!” Beca groaned and looked at the clock. Nope. Not even close to noon. Or at least not close enough for her to be up yet.

“It’s 10:02.”

“Yeah. Almost noon!” It should have been more annoying than it was but she laughed anyway when Chloe bounced a little on the bed. It was pretty clear that she wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep any time soon. “So what happened last night?” Beca froze. Last night. Chloe couldn’t possibly know about last night. Could she? No. She wouldn’t be this cheery if she had actually known. Right? Maybe?

“Uh…”

Chloe gave her an exasperated sigh and another bounce. “You were supposed to meet us at the Garage? Don’t tell me you forgot…” A frown ghosted across Chloe’s face and she wondered if Beca intentionally stayed away. She was like that sometimes, opting to go her own way rather than hang out in group settings. Chloe was starting to get used to it but sometimes she worried that she was annoying Beca too much.

“Oh.” There was a pause and something guilty flashed in Beca’s eyes as she sat up and cleared her throat awkwardly. “Uh I actually got caught up at Callum’s. M’sorry Chlo, I promise I’ll make it the next time.” It seemed sincere enough even if Beca was suddenly very obviously uncomfortable. Chloe tried to catch her eye but Beca avoided and flopped back against her pillows. “Things just came up.”

“It’s okay.” Beca still seemed a little shifty but Chloe didn’t press her on it. She smiled and rested her hand on Beca’s arm and gave it a light squeeze. They weren’t a thing. Not really. But she couldn’t help but reach out and touch the small brunette like all of the time. Even in little ways. A nudge here and there, shoulder bump from time to time, a Howler monkey death grip hug on occasion. Whatever she could get away with really. “Jessica and Ashley want to do brunch today. You up for it?”

Sunday brunches had been mandatory when Aubrey was captain but so far this year they hadn’t picked up the tradition. “That’s still a thing? I thought you didn’t you know want to do things the way they were before.” Beca watched Chloe’s face carefully, looking for any sign that she might know Aubrey was or had been in town. Truthfully she didn’t know if their former captain was even still in the house.

“I know.” Chloe shrugged and played with the fingers of her left hand idly, not really wanting to look too hard at Beca. “I just thought it would be nice. Like Bree was still here almost.” It still hurt. Thinking about Aubrey was like a swift punch to the chest these days but she missed her friend. So damn much. And maybe she just wanted to feel like things used to be for a little bit. Maybe she wouldn’t miss her quite so badly if she kept some of Aubrey’s better habits. Chloe looked up quickly when Beca didn’t say anything. “I miss her. Which I know is stupid right? We still talk. Kinda. And she’s only like ten hours away it’s just…” Different. It was completely different now.

Aubrey hadn’t just left at the end of the previous year. She’d blown off graduation and gone radio silent for six whole weeks. Six agonizingly long weeks. When Aubrey had finally texted her back it was a little distant and clipped but Chloe hadn’t cared because at least Aubrey was still talking to her. The blonde had said she was sorry and that she had taken a last minute internship in Washington D.C. but Chloe hadn’t been so sure that was the truth. It wasn’t like she was stalking Aubrey really but yeah she totally stalked her Facebook. There hadn’t been any mention of or pictures from D.C. Then again there hadn’t been anything at all since May the previous year. Beca cleared her throat uncomfortably again. “You’re still messed up over that aren’t you?”

It was quiet and surprisingly gentle for Beca. Chloe raised a shoulder halfway then sighed and shook her head. “Yes. I mean. Not really. But yes.” That was just…confusing. Even to her own ears. Chloe raised a hand and let it drop to her lap. It was hard to talk to Beca about these things because some of them involved her feelings for her new co-captain. And while Chloe knew they were on the cusp of something more they still hadn’t gotten there yet. Partially because she was still working through Aubrey abandoning her. She winced at her own thought. That wasn’t fair. Aubrey hadn’t exactly abandoned her. She’d just left without a word for over a month and refused to answer her calls. “We were best friends for a long time before we were anything else. I miss talking to her. I miss hearing her laugh. Aubrey laughs are the best. Not the cold ones, the real ones where she crinkles up her nose and…” Chloe cut herself off and shook her head when she felt the hot sting of tears start. “Sorry.”

“Dude.” Beca sat up and ran her hands through her hair. Yeah it was weird a little bit. Hearing about Chloe still being into Aubrey when Beca herself was into Chloe. But. This was Chloe. Seeing her upset and struggling to hide it was just…wrong. On so many levels. Beca scooted a little closer and pulled Chloe’s hand into her lap. “You don’t have to say sorry for having feelings. Because I’m pretty sure you’re never gonna stop having all of the feelings all of the time.” Which was fine for Beca. It saved her from having too many feelings if Chloe was hogging them all. Chloe’s fingers flexed in hers and Beca gave into the desire to lace them together. It was fine right? Friends did that. They held hands. Right? “You’re allowed to miss Aubrey. Pretty sure she misses you like whoa too.”

It wasn’t something she could really talk to Chloe about but after last night Beca was almost positive Aubrey was falling off the deep end. “You’re a good friend Beca Mitchell.” That made Beca a little uncomfortable. Was she though? Did good friends not tell their crushes that their ex was in town? She wasn’t sure. Beca gave a non-committal hum before sighing like a DMV worker on a Friday afternoon.

“Yeah well. Maybe. Sometimes I’m not entirely a dick.” Chloe laughed at that and used their clasped hand to pull her close for a warm hug. The truth of the matter was, she didn’t really know why Aubrey had broken up with Chloe. They didn’t talk about that. Personally she thought it was monumentally stupid of the blonde but after seeing her the previous night she wondered if maybe Aubrey thought it was monumentally stupid too. It left her wondering if she should even try. They could get back together and then where would she be?

“Aw Becs, you’re not a dick. You’re just grumpy face 80 percent of the time.” It made Beca laugh and she nuzzled in a little further to Chloe’s neck for a half second before pulling away quickly.

“Yeah well. Whatever. I’m still not doing brunch.” Chloe let Beca pull away but still kept a hold of her hand. If she hadn’t just been going on about her feelings about missing Aubrey she might have just kissed Beca right then and there. Maybe. She smiled widely and leaned forward to kiss Beca on the cheek before letting go of her hand. It was enough that Beca had listened, it had made her feel a little better and that was all Chloe really needed right now.

“Okay Grumpy Face. I’ll bring you back something to eat. Mind if I borrow your black jacket?”

Beca nodded and waved in the general direction of the desk before stretching back out on her bed, face down. She might not be able to get to sleep again but she wasn’t quite ready to face the day yet either. “Yeah sure. Just leave the thumb drive in the pocket on my desk. It has our new mixes on it.”

The bed shifted as Chloe stood and grabbed the jacket off the pile of books and dug around in the pocket. The drive wasn’t the only thing in there, a card was stuck at an awkward angle and she had to tug a few times to get it out. “Hey your bank card is on th…” Chloe froze, staring at the plastic card in her hand. She wouldn’t have even looked twice at it if she hadn’t been folding the bar tab around it. Aubrey Posen. She read the name again just to be sure she wasn’t imaging it. “Why do you have Aubrey’s ca…Oh my God!” Realization hit her like a brick to the face and Beca’s jacket fell out her suddenly nerveless fingers on to the ground

Beca shot up from the bed and Chloe stared at her. “I can explain!”

“Is this why you didn’t go to the Garage? Because you were with her??” It hurt so badly she almost couldn’t breathe. Chloe wanted to wait for an answer but she just couldn’t. She couldn’t even really wrap her head around the idea that Aubrey had been there or was there and Beca hadn’t told her. Let alone that they were together. Even after she had JUST said how much she missed Aubrey.

“It’s not what you think Chlo I swear. I can explain everything…”

“You know what? I don’t…I don’t…I can’t even…” But Chloe just didn’t have the words. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks but before Beca could reach out to her she spun on a heel and ran out of the attic room and down the stairs card still clutched tightly in her hand. Beca stumbled on her jacket as she tried to catch up with the redhead.

“Chlo! CHLOE! Wait!!” She had only managed to get to the second floor before the front door slammed hard enough to make the walls shake. “FUUUUUUCK!” This was not at all how Beca wanted her Sunday to go. “Seriously? This is what I get for trying.”

xxxxx

Oh God. Light. Why was there light? Who told the sun it could be so damn bright? Aubrey groaned and tried to bring a hand to her face but it was pinned by something. Why? Why had she gotten so damn drunk? And why did it feel like a small furry animal had died in her mouth? Aubrey rolled her body but only got as far as her pinioned arm would let her. Slowly she turned her head and cracked one eye open. Wait. Where the hell… “Stacie?!?”

Aubrey shot straight up in shock displacing the tall brunette with a hard jostle. Oh God. She shouldn’t have done that. Her head throbbed wickedly and she groaned. Why? Why did she do that to herself? Stacie rubbed her face and raised a brow at Aubrey. “Hey. You look like crap.”

Well she felt like crap so that was about right. The blonde closed her eyes with a wince and scratched idly at her chest. Then frowned. One eye pried open and she looked down. She didn’t have a shirt on. Pale eyes rolled to the side. Stacie was about as naked as a body could be. Oh no. Oh God. Very slowly she turned her head all the way to face Stacie and swallowed the bile down as best she could. “We…uh…didn’t…”

“No.” It was flat and almost bored. But it was all she needed to let out a sigh of relief. “Two things. First, I don’t sleep with people literally crying on me because they miss their ex. Not that you didn’t try. And two…baby you’d remember me.” Heat crept up her face and Aubrey wished there was a hole big enough to crawl into and die.

“I…tried?” That wasn’t even the worst part of that whole speech. “While crying?”

“Over Chloe.” Aubrey was fucking mortified. And if she’d had any moisture at all in her body she might have burst into tears. As it was she felt like a dried out husk as she choked out a tearless sob. One hand covered her mouth and she leaned over the edge of the bed. It only made her head pound harder but she just couldn’t even look at Stacie. “You’re kind of a boob girl aren’t you?”

“Oh my God. I’m…I’m so sorry Stacie…” The amusement in the other woman’s voice almost too much to take and she reached out for her discarded shirt just as the door across the hall opened and closed loudly. It made her wince. Why were all the noises so loud right now? Stacie sat up on the bed behind her and rested a warm hand on the small of her back but the idea of any one touching her at the moment made her skin crawl. “I can’t believe I…that is unacceptable. God. How can you even look at me right now?”

“Hey…Bree…stop. Please?” Aubrey’s hands were shaking and she just wanted to be anywhere but there. Anywhere she could hide in abject shame. “It’s okay you know.”

“No it is not!” How could this ever be okay? Stacie tried to get Aubrey to turn and face her but there was no way on this green earth she would ever be able to look at Stacie again. Let alone in the eye. “This is not how I was raised. This is…weak.” She was weak. Weak and broken.

“Why? Because your heart is broken? Aubrey that’s just fucking life. People get hurt. They’re allowed to feel things you know. You’re allowed to feel things.”

“Not other people’s breasts!” Because apparently she was a boob girl. Oh God. Alice had been right. She failed. As Captain. As friend. As everything. She was a failure. Stacie’s chuckle only made the whole thing that much harder to bear and she roughly yanked the lavender monogramed button up over her shoulders. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“Sorry. It’s just I never anticipated you waking up in my bed. At least. I never anticipated you waking up in my bed pissed off and ashamed to be there. We didn’t do anything Bree. I swear. The groping was mostly accidental.” Mostly. That word echoed in her head and she wanted to puke. How could she? How could she have done that under the same roof where Chloe slept? Oh God Chloe. “Aubrey are you okay?”

She tossed a glare over her shoulder at Stacie because she clearly was not okay. The bite rising to her lips and coloring her words. “No Stacie I’m not okay! I practically assaulted you and then cried over another woman. Why would I ever be okay with that??” She wasn’t even touching the fact that Stacie already knew who that other woman was. It wasn’t like it was a secret exactly but she was a very private person and her dating life had been one of those don’t ask don’t tell situations. She had to maintain order in the group. There could be no questioning of her authority while she was Captain and allowing the Bellas to know she and Chloe were together was out of the question.

Not that it mattered when Beca questioned her authority over every damn thing else. “You didn’t. Assault me I mean. You were lonely Aubrey and hurting.”

“That’s no excuse!” She didn’t want to be a bitch to Stacie. She wanted to thank her for keeping her out of trouble. For trying to be kind to her when she was obviously distraught. But she was deeply disappointed in herself and angry and it all had to go somewhere. So she snapped at Stacie because that’s what Aubrey did. She lashed out because that was so much easier than dealing with the gnawing pain in her heart and the bubbling acid in her gut. Quick heavy steps resounded on the stairs and along the hall and she cringed hoping no one would come knocking at Stacie’s door and see her there.

“Chlo! CHLOE! Wait!!” Oh no. Beca’s voice echoed as another lighter but just as hurried pounding came down the hall only seconds after the first. Aubrey stilled and waited but Chloe’s steps continued down the next flight of stairs and the front door slammed hard. Aubrey winced both as the volume and the intensity of Beca’s frustration. “FUUUUUUCK!” There was a quiet mutter and the door swung open hard on its hinges, slamming back against the wall. Whatever Beca had been about to say however died on her lips when she took in the image of Aubrey, shirt still unbuttoned sitting on the edge of Stacie’s bed. And Stacie who slept in nothing at all apparently, leaning casually against the headboard. “Seriously???”

There wasn’t any real way to explain this so she didn’t even try. Aubrey lowered her head and got up, inching past Beca quietly. There weren’t any words that she could say to make any of this go away or make sense. Aubrey paused and glanced at Beca’s livid face, she opened her mouth to apologize but closed it just as quickly with a hard click. Without a word she trudged down the stairs fumbling the buttons of her shirt and slunk out of the Bella house. She could never come back. She knew that. She had ruined…everything. Everything that had ever mattered to her.

Beca watched Aubrey go then whirled on Stacie. “Dude! What the fuck?” Stacie’s eyes narrowed and Beca instinctively took a step back from the anger she saw.

“Nice. She was already kicking herself but yeah that was totally what Aubrey needed. And for the record, nothing happened. So. Good job there, Cap’n. Now get out.” When Beca didn’t move fast enough Stacie lobbed a pillow at her head. It was enough for her to back quickly out of the room and shut the door. Okay she could have done without the sarcasm, however justified it may have been. Beca leaned against the wall and let her head thump back against it a few times. Great. She’d fucked up twice in the half hour she’d been awake. Wonderful. Going back to bed seemed like her best option at this point. Beca climbed the stairs slowly wondering how she was going to fix things. For both of them. Even if it meant…

“Fuck.” Even if it meant never getting to be with Chloe. The thought of that caused her a hell of a lot more hurt than she thought it would but it was still probably less pain than either of her friends were in. She didn’t even know how to start untangling this mess Beca only knew that she had to try. For both of them.

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 7 years

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I’ll Meet You At The Bottom (Part 15)

So a little good news and a little bad news. Good news; today I contacted a publisher. I might be getting an original short story published. The bad news: this means I might not be able to update this fic as regularly. I’m definitely going to try, but I’m going to be putting more work into polishing my short story.

Azula pulled herself up, sore all over. She threw her belongings into her pack with such an alarmingly unnecessary fury. She’d stayed the night to prove that she wasn’t afraid, but she no longer desired their company. She didn’t desire any company at all. She supposed that deep down, she’d always felt as though she belonged alone.

“Here.” Chan made off to dab at her head with a wet cloth.

She slapped his hand away, “don’t touch me.”

“I should have stepped in.”

“I didn’t want your help.” She frowned and continued to fold her sleeping bag. With a sharp hiss, she clutched her ribcage.

“Let me see it.” Chan reached out again.

“I said don’t touch me.” This time her holler was loud enough to get a rouse from Taeyul and Wire. Even as she did so, she lifted her shirt some. She cringed at the sight of her sides, they were bruised and swollen all the way up, making it hard to move at all. She wouldn’t abandon her task though. She would get an extra pouch of Ruby Tears from Chan and be on her way. She tightened her bag shut.

“You really gonna leave us, pretty lady?” Minho asked.

“You won’t miss me.”

“That ain’t true.”

“Ain’t it?” Azula mocked, she tugged up her shirt. “This is your fault. You and Yoona.” He flinched at the display. “Oh, I know what this is about. You just want more of this.” She hitched her shirt up an inch or two more, something she’d been all too good at lately. “That’s all you wanted, wasn’t it?” Two days late, the regret was setting in. Loneliness and desperation had made her easy. She recalled how he’d first leered at her, how could she have been so foolish? Azula tossed the pouch between her hands. Maybe Kohza was right, maybe she was just a ruby whore. She dropped herself back down. “Well, you got what you wanted, don’t think you’ll get it again.”

“That weren’t all I wanted.” She thought she heard Minho say. “It were at first, maybe.”

Azula ignored him. She would sit for a moment more and be on her way, whether Chan wanted to help her home or not. A drawn-out puff from her kiseru helped relax her frayed nerves and seemed to take the edge off of her physical pains. She looked in the direction of the palace, in the direction of home. How many people would be waiting for her? Waiting to drag her back to that loathsome institution. Azula laughed to herself, she’d like to see them try.

The heavy sound of footsteps indicated Bo-Rem lurking before the girl announced herself. Dropping a token made from a rusty, beaten scrap of metal into Azula’s lap, she said, “You’re leaving? And here we were gonna let you join our gang.”

The princess had no appetite for sarcasm today. She turned the shard of scrap metal over in her hand regardless. It was cut in an almost perfect circle with only a few sharp edges and bore the double-edged dagger of the Nyūkirā. She flipped it over again, the back had two engraved letters an ‘P’ and an ‘L’. In certain light, the metal chunk had a red sheen to it.

“Boryuk didn’t know what to engrave in the metal for the initials.” Bo-Rem stated. “So he just went with Minho’s nickname for you.”

Azula furrowed her brows, thinking back to Mama Mozi. Of her many questions, she didn’t know which to ask first, so she asked the simplest? “Boryuk can metalbend?”

“A little.” Boryuk shrugged, as if it wasn’t an accomplishment at all.

Azula came out with the more pressing question. “What is with you lowlifes and pretending like nothing happened.”

“That kinda how it be here, pretty lady.” Minho replied.

“We fight all the time, get it out, then it’s over.” Khoza shrugged. “‘Stead of dragging it out like they do in high-class politics.”

“You just let it out all at once and get over it.” Wire added.

“We also had to make sure you could handle us before letting you in.” Bo-Rem replied.

“That how it work ‘round here.” Yoko declared.

Azula spared the palace another glance and then turned her eyes to the trinket in her palm. An initiation process, she mused to herself. She supposed any group worth while had some type of hazing to go with it, Agni knew she wouldn’t have let just anyone join her posse. She slipped the token into her pocket.

“So is you leavin’ or stayin’, pretty lady?” Minho asked.

Her clothes were dirty beyond all compare, she longed for a nice hot shower, and a meal worth eating. Azula looked longingly at the palace. It would be another impulse decision that she would come to regret, but for now the Nyūkirā felt like real friends. They were rough and unstable, fickle and unpredictable but she was just as so.

Chan tossed her a bottle of cactus juice. “So how about a trip to the industrial park? We could have a few drinks, make a little noise…”

.oOo.

She’s been gone for a little under a week and not one person has seen her. Or maybe they have but just didn’t realize it. Sokka wondered if her haircut had made her look that different. It couldn’t have, Azula had changed a lot but she was still Azula. He could see it on her, he didn’t even have to look, she had a certain aura about her. Sokka ran his fingers through his hair, how could this have happened? Why did he care so much for her? She’d never given him a reason to feel this much distress over her disappearance. She needed someone, but why did it have to be him? Because, he decided, I was crazy enough to give her a try. Despite it all he had a bit of a weakness for caring for those who were usually looked down upon. And after his brush with his darkest nature, he had a weakness for seeing the humanity in the least sympathetic of people.

Yes, at her core, Sokka decided, Azula was in pain. Lost and in pain, and confused. Perhaps afraid even. None of those traits looked well on her and none of them seemed characteristic of her. That may have been particularly why he found himself overcome with stress and worry.

As Sokka swept his brush over the canvas, he couldn’t help but recall her as he’d last seen her. She was so delicate, as close to death as she could very well get without falling through the thin veil. His brush glided faster as his mind raced. He was almost finished painting on her robe. It was lacking some in texture, but that only seemed right as his life in general seemed to be lacking texture lately.

Images infiltrated Sokka’s brain; he saw the princess laying broken and naked in some dirty back alley, she turned to him and asked why he had left her. This image flickered away, only to be replaced by Suki underwater with her arm outstretched, she was asking him where the hell he was. The images seemed to blur together and their questions intertwining. He put down the brush, his hand trembling too much to pain right.

He tore down the stairs, knowing that he had to find Azula. He had to find her right then.

If he didn’t he would find her dead.

Just like Yue. Like his mother. Like Suki.

.oOo.

The industrial park was the husk of an old war age factory. Like most of the wartime relics, the defeat of the Fire Nation put it out of use. It’s various smoke stacks were barren of their usual puffs and much of its coal had been coughed up and scattered around the dead grass and dirt. Azula knew this factory by its logo, it was the very same one that had pumped out the drill she had overseen a long time off. Spare pipes, cogs, and sheets of scrap metal unutilized were discarded in careless heaps around the park. Azula found herself sitting on the massive rail tracks, once used to transport the drill safely from one end of the park to the next. It was a jarring sight to look down, the hole beneath the track was big enough to swallow her whole. She spied the rusting corpses of war machines deemed unfit to fight for the purpose they were designed. Great machines that weren’t grand enough, discharged before they had a honor of joining the battle. She almost wished that, that could have been her. She leapt down and wandered over to one that may have been a prototype for her tank. It was beaten and unmovable now, but it still looked like it could shatter the terrain it trekked. She wondered what happened to her old tank, one day she would have to drive it again. But for the time being she accepted Chan’s cactus juice.

One bottle had Azula’s strides a little clumsy. Two made every stupid remark made by Yoko, absolutely hilarious. Two and a half, and Yoona’s speech suddenly made complete sense. Three had her giggling hysterically when Chan tried leaping from a pile of stone blocks onto a pile of rusty beams, he missed by a bit and took a hit right to his manhood. Four bottles had her trying it herself, with more success but just as little grace.

She had to admit that she was having the time of her life. They had taken her on a great many adventures throughout the day; they had taunted a wild kimodo bull, leapt through a broken window to steal a dented kettle just to see if they could, stomped across Mama Mozi’s lawn after she’d turned her back, and tested their parkour when she’d chased them down. Azula would argue that the kind of leaps and turns they preformed were worthy of high praise, but apparently the owners of the homes used in their show were more concerned with the unwanted intrusion than the impressive display. Their show was cut short when Azula got a first hand demonstration of the reasoning behind Wire’s name. They were doing splendidly, with a new burst of energy courts of the cactus juice, Azula had leapt from one roof to the rickety balcony of the house below. It sent jarring vibrations through her bruised and swollen ribs, but she didn’t notice through her buzzed daze. From there she used the rails to fling herself upon the scaffolding of a house never finished, leaping from one crossbeam to the next. It would seem that the building was privy to invaders for it was rigged all over. Azula had taken the care to dance over and weave through each. Chan and Taeyul not far behind. A loud “ah fuck,” and a decent thud caught her attention. She looked down to see Wire hanging precariously by his feet a story below. Between the ten of them, Wire was free, but his ankles were torn pretty horribly. Thus their rooftop adventure was cut short, all was well though, they had lost Mozi blocks back. And so they came to arrive at the industrial park earlier than planned where Azula had just finished one upping Chan. She finished with a bow that sent her into sudden vertigo. She stumbled forward and toppled over, rolling on to her back laughing. A few feet away Khoza started a round of slow claps—she couldn’t be sure if they were for Chan’s stellar landing or for her elegant bow.

“Ey, pretty lady” Minho called from his place atop a pile of discarded pipes and poles. you wanna have some real fun?” Minho offered. At first she thought that it was another attempt to beg for the sex she promised him he would never get. He held up a satchel of Ruby Tears. Interest captured, Azula sauntered over. It has been a while since she’d had a really good fix. “If you add a bit of dandelion powder, the trips are much better.” Minho explained. “It smells better too.” He added as he dumped a fine dusting of dandelion powder over the Ruby Tears.

With a fresh waft of Dragon’s Breath clouding her judgment, Azula she found herself lighting various things on fire at first just to see them explode. She and Minho made a game of it; whoever found the most flammable object won. Whoever didn’t, had to kiss Boryuk. A game that had her completely forgetting to hide the color of her flame. Azula scoped the area for something worth lighting. As Minho scoured the trash heap, she shoved her way into the factory. She rummaged through crates both open and sealed, most of them contained broken screws, nails, and bolts. A few had some perfectly intact hammers and wrenches. But they were of no use to her. She could set the mountain of coal on fire, but even at her highest she could still deduce that doing so would draw far too much attention. Coupled with the thought that she would be too drunk to keep a fire of that size in check, she put the idea out of her mind. Perhaps that was the smartest decision she had made all week. At last she came upon what she was looking for. A few sticks of dynamite and a small pile of gun powder. It was only slightly less foolish.

“Found yours Minho?” She asked.

“I find mine ‘while ago, pretty lady. Were waiting on you.”

“Ell urry ip n lye it ip.” Yoona hollered. “Us wan see some sploshions.”

“After you.” Azula slurred, motioning for Minho to start, after all the best was to be saved for last.

“A’righty then. Time to bring out the classics.” Minho stabbed a large stick into the ground, nature’s finest firewood. Around it he spread a cluster of leaves. He set it aflame and tossed a lump of coal or two into the mix. She had to admit, his use of the bare minimum created quite a respectable blaze. But it wouldn’t come close to the inferno she was about to create.

“Alright, Minho, prepare to meet your doom.” She smirked. She put his fire out and set her dynamite and powder in its place. She lit it up and quickly scuttled back. The blast popped and with the assistance of the gunpowder shot quite a distance, right into a sheet of steel where it ricocheted. The burnt of it had died away but the shower of heat that contacted her calf had her nearly on her ass. With a swiftness to match her own, Chan broke her fall.

She counted her blessings that the stick was a dud and that the hit only left a harsh stinging and an angry red mark on her leg.

“I thinks you wons, pretty lady.” Minho declared backing away from the fire that still burned where the powder had trailed.

“Whoops.” Azula muttered, but at the same time she relished in her victory. It was the first one she’s had since the eclipse. “Y-you must feelprettybad rightnow.” She laughed, well aware that her slur was growing more apparent. “Because my victory was so explosive, it will be ringing inyourears f-for, for a week.”

“That pun will be ringing in my ear for weeks to come.” Khoza muttered, obviously not drunk enough for that brand of humor.

Azula laughed harder, it was more like a cackled at that point. Her fire seemed to laugh with her as it crackled. Leaning up against Chan, she fixed her ear on it. Indeed her fire was talking, speaking to her like it was proud of her. “You’ve finally used me well.” It’s voice died off with a pop. She crawled closer to the fire as it praised her for her mastery of it. A burst of sparks took to the air and showered down on her in the form of compliments. She came closer still and reached her hand out, only to have Chan yank it back.

“But the fire the fire it wanted me t-to come to it.”

“It’s a fire, of course it did.” Chan smiled, running a hand over her hair. “I would like you to come to me.”

Azula peered up at him with innocent eyes, as innocent as her eyes could be anyhow. “Would you?”

“Absolutely.” He replied, coaxing her away from the hazard she was making of the fire behind her. He bent down enough to find himself level with her. He brushed her hair out of her face, brushing his thumb over her cheek. Holding her close he mumbled in her ear, “you’re still unbelievably hot.” His hand slid over her thigh.

She looked at her hands. They were on fire. She was fire. The flames were blue, she was her fire. “I know I am.” She replied, effectively ruining the mood. “I am fire.” She whispered to herself, truly and completely mesmerized by the flames she thought she had become.

Chan rolled his eyes, but if that made her happy he would go with the moment. “You are fire, huh?” He asked.

“That’s right.” She smirked, putting a hand on his cheek. Her flame-fingers seemed to lick and dance over his skin. “Do you know what fire likes to do, Chan?”

“What does fire like to do, princess?” He asked stroking her back.

“It likes to consume things.” She winked, pushing him to the ground. She needed to take advantage of the moment, it wasn’t every day that her entire body became flame, it never happened at all before then. There was so much raw power that came with being fire, she dared anyone to try to wield her. She would let Chan give it a shot.

As a fire would, she leapt upon him.

.oOo.

As the princess became fire, Sokka snuffed out. He couldn’t find her, he tried so hard, but he couldn’t find her. And if he couldn’t find her, that must mean she’s dead. No one is gone for a week without a trace or a word and comes back alive, especially not a person hooked on drugs and so full of scars. He killed her in some way, shape, or form. He re-entered the palace all fury with a faint feeling that he should have asked for help.

“Sokka, are you alright?”

“I can’t do anything Katara!” He hollered. He didn’t mean to yell at her but he needed to scream. He needed to hit something. “You healed her.”

“Healed who?”

“Aang was breathing for her.”

“Azula? Are you talking about Azula?”

“Zuko kept the guards on task and the guards brought her to the infirmary. You know what I did Katara?” She made off to answer be he was shouting again. “Nothing! I did nothing.” He was pacing frantically about the room, he did nothing just like when Zhao killed the moon spirt. Just like when Suki’s ship went down.

“Sokka, that’s not true.” Her arm was on his shoulder.

He came to an abrupt stop, shoulders slumping. “You’re right, Katara.” The relief in her eyes was short lived. “I did do something. I was the one who put her in that situation. Aren’t I just a great help.” A coffee table was on the floor before, clattering a few decorative platters along with it. He didn’t remember pushing it over, but he was sure that he did. He clasped his hands on his head. It was happening again. And after he swore to himself that he would never lose control again. The fear in Katara’s eyes was unmistakable and he couldn’t blame her for backing away. As compassionate as she was, she wasn’t an idiot. She wasn’t reckless like him, she knew when to back away from someone so far out of it that they couldn’t come back in on their own.

For the first time he considered that he had never truly healed at all, that he’d been bottling it in the whole time, pretending that everything was okay. It wasn’t.

He wasn’t.

He kicked the wall once, maybe twice, maybe thrice—he’d lost count after the first.

“Sokka please.” Katara called. “You have to calm down.”

He didn’t mean to but he chucked at that. “Okay, sure thing Katara, let me just flick my rage switch off. He watched her cringe against the wall, just like she did when the first time. He had hit her, not because he was mad at her, but because he was mad and she was there. This time he hit himself, it drove away the urge and was better than hurting her again. He wouldn’t be able to take it if he hurt his own sister again, just like he couldn’t take it that he had pushed Azula over the edge.

Strangely enough, he found himself hating Suki. For leaving him, for doing this to him.

To his surprise Katara approached him. “No, no you have to go. I’m going to hurt you again.”

“You won’t.” Katara insisted hugging him as close as she could, bringing a halt to his self-beating. “I won’t let you.”

“I’m sorry Katara.” He whispered, his rage subsiding to make room for tears. “I’m so sorry.” He wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for the present or for the strife he caused her in the past. He needed to get a grip. He needed someone to help him find one. “You’re not going to blame her are you, it’s not her fault.”

“Will it make you feel better if I don’t.” Katara asked.

Sokka nodded.

“Then I won’t. On one condition.”

He waited.

“Let me help you. I know you haven’t been yourself.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?” He asked. “You’re afraid of me aren’t you.”

“No, Sokka! You know that’s not true. I didn’t want to push you.”

“Help me help Azula.” He quickly added, “you don’t even have to talk to her, just give me some support.”

Katara sighed. “I’ll do what I can.”

Sokka tried to smile, he thought that it almost worked. Maybe this time around, he would heal for real. Maybe they both could. If only the princess would come home.

.oOo.

In the week to follow, they had a lot of questions for Azula, having seen her fire for what it really was. She cringed, waiting for the backlash. It came in the form of an unrelenting rain of questions. What was it like to live in the palace? Is it true that you have your own personal guards? Is there a hot spring in palace, I heard there were three. And from Yoona, though jumbled as usual, Azula made out, “can you hook me up with your brother.” She came to conclude that Yoona was the most merciless of gang. Khoza was the only one who had no questions to ask. He was content to give commentary, “that explains a lot” among other thing.

Truth be told, Azula had expected repercussion and another beating, but they seemed to treat her no differently. Not better nor worse. They still treated her with all of the roughness of the days prior, they still expected her to accompany them on all of their ventures no matter how much class they lacked.

That week had been the best week of her life. Save for the bottle and the dust, she was free. Truly free.

In that week, she had grown fond of Minho. More so than she’d like to admit. He told her about his family. About his little brother Hi-Yung, who still had the cloth rabbaroo he’d sewn for the kid. Of his mother, crippled by a carriage accident—the one that killed his father. He told her of his dreams and asked her if she could help him. “I know I aren’t the brightest ‘round. But I have a idea. I has lots a ideas. I want to tell stories. I want folks to read ‘em.” So she let him tell her stories of the made up sort and of real adventures he’d been on. And he was good at it, several nights in a row he lulled her to sleep with his wild tales. So did something she seldom ever did. She made him a promise. That when she got back to the palace and sorted things out, she would find him again and teach him to read and write. He was a brilliant man, she had come to conclude, a brilliant man who had never gotten a chance. She found out more than she ever wanted to know about him. He was rather comforting and made her feel less alone in her addiction. And when the others were fast asleep, she exchanged a story of her own. And he reminded her that she was strong, useful, worthwhile. He made her feel as though she wasn’t alone. He told her that he wanted to stop taking Ruby Tears and that they could do it together.

Perhaps that’s why his death hit so hard.

#Sokkla #Azula #Sokka #Katara #Zuko #Aang #Toph #Avatar #Fanfiction

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hippopotatomus · 4 years

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It’s party time! Square dancing is introduced for the intrepid, the inexperienced, and the deranged, and nobody gets hurt. Sylvia’s kids discover the kitchen and the joys of Jello. Finally, they load into Newt and take the refurbished amphibious vehicle for a test run.

Now that there is kind of a plot, you might need to backtrack a bit. Here’s a link if you decide to start reading at the beginning. There’s a helpful chart below to give you a chance to sort out the rodents. Recommended snack: Jello, especially those fancy molded kinds with random foodstuffs trapped inside. Soundtrack: Old Time Square Dance Music. Switch to Truckin‘ (Grateful Dead) once they start driving around.

~~~~~~~~~~

Everybody piles into the amphibious vehicle, otherwise known as “Newt,” and take him for an offroad test drive around the principality and into the River Dobby.

He ran into Bond first and dispatched the little budgie to fetch the hens and have them herd Sylvia’s kids over to the makeshift ballroom in time for the first dance. Then he wandered toward the glow in the workshop windows where the sulky millwright and his crew of naked mole rats worked away on the zeppelin.

“We have plenty of time to finish this. You guys ate, right? And then came back down to work again? Take the night off, listen to some music, have some dessert. I won’t even bug you about dancing. Newt’s ready to drive, and that’s good enough for tomorrow. Come on and take a break.”

Rodney scowled at Dobby but nodded toward his workers and they put down their tools and scampered toward the rowdy ballroom. Dobby stood on tiptoes and tried to peer into the windows of the amphibious vehicle and frowned. He opened the door and looked up at the driver’s seat. Rodney cleared his throat, stepped forward and pulled out a little step from the undercarriage. Dobby smiled and stepped up into Newt, and sat in the driver’s seat. Rodney shut the door and Dobby looked behind him into the Salon. The carpets, couches, curtains, and chandeliers were exactly like his sketches. He turned back to Rodney, who now seemed to be standing way down below him, and clutched the steering wheel to stave off a little dizzy spell.

“I saw that,” said Rodney. “If you’re woozy about this height, well, what are you going to do when the airship lifts off the ground?”

“I’m fine. It just surprised me for a minute. Annabelle is going to be driving, or piloting, or whatever. I plan to ride in the back. I’m going to lay on a couch and let Conchita feed me grapes.”

“What do you think Sylvia will say about that?”

“Oh, Conchita can feed her grapes, too!”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Okay, come on down from there. Let’s go to the dance. Are the desserts served yet?”

“Of course not, but there’s still some fruit and a couple willow branches left.”

They trudged back up the hill to the ballroom. Three small squirrels screamed past them, a trio of hens huffing and puffing not far behind. The goose was approaching the microphone as they entered the fray.

“That tune was Who Hit Nelly with a Stovepipe. Now, who’s ready to dance? We’re going to need four couples to a square. Looks like we can easily come up with four squares tonight. Can you please give it a bit of thought and choose couples who aren’t ten times as big as you are? That’s okay for some of the circle dances, but it’s kinda dangerous for this one, okay? I’m talking to you, down there. Yes, you. Can you please switch out with that couple in the square next to you? Yeah, that’s going to be better. Okay, how are we doing, now? Need one more couple in this square up front. Prince D! What are you doing? Where’s your partner, get up here!”

Dobby looked around for Sylvia and spotted her in a square near the back, partnered up with Kipling. She shrugged and smiled at him from across the room. Dobby looked around for a partner, grabbed the surprised millwright and pulled him forward into the front square.

“All right,” said the goose. “Rodney’s gonna dance tonight! I’m Silly Goose, and I’m gonna be calling the dances tonight, so pay attention! Couple one is closest to me, couple two is on their right, and on around to four. Make a note of it. Each couple has a raven and a lark: raven on the right, lark on the left.”

There was a lot of talking in the squares, each group determining the couple numbers. Then the raven lark controversy, with a lot of switching around due to some bird preferences, and even some couples changing when someone refused to be a raven. These shenanigans persisted until the caller tapped the mic.

“Quiet up, y’all! We’re going to start with an allemande left with your corner. Ignore your partner for the moment, reach out with your left paw toward the nearest fool, shake paws and turn right around, return to face your partner. Okay, so far so good. Now we’re going to learn a right and left grand, and I sure darned hope at least a few of you know it already.”

She reached down for a sip of water before she continued. The crowd was attentive but unruly, polite but pushy, and they finally made it through the last instruction before they forgot the first one.

“Okay, the band’s gonna play Dogs in the Dishes for us. Everybody ready?

With your corner left allemande, Back to your partner for a right left grand, Hand over hand around that ring, Meet your own for a big fat swing, Swing your partner round and round, Any old way but upside down, Couple one, rip and snort, Down the center and cut em off short, Raven go gee and the lark go haw, Now all back home where you belong!”

Silly Goose called half a dozen dances and after each dance, everybody chose new partners. After the first dance ended, Dobby made a beeline for Sylvia, nearly knocking over the millwright. He was happy to be abandoned until Bianca cornered him and he ended up being ensnared for every dance because the ladies were so excited to see him joining the fun. Sylvia seemed to be enjoying herself, and Dobby only stepped on her toes twice, a new personal best for a night of dancing. Dessert was served, the band kept playing until the final tune, The Snouts and Ears of America.

“Did they get dessert?”

Sylvia snorted and shifted Tix back up onto her shoulder. Dobby had Cu and Sali in a backpack his decorator had made up from leftover curtain fabric.

“I guess you didn’t hear. I don’t know if I want to tell you but the rabbits are going to tell you anyway. The hens were supposed to bring them up to the ballroom, but they were so tuckered out that these little monsters got ahead of them, took a wrong turn and ended up in the kitchen. Fortunately, they had never seen petits fours before and didn’t know they were food. They went straight for the Jello molds. They’d never seen those, either, and decided they were perfect for jumping. Mind you, it’s all rumors, I wasn’t there, and you shouldn’t be mad at your hens, either. Mission impossible, right?”

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Dobby laughed. “I heard. I’m glad we were able to give you a break. Jello is easy to fix, magic, you know. It would have been trickier to create new cakes, but Jello? That was easy. The rabbits weren’t angry, just a bit excited.”

“But my kids shouldn’t be getting away with being naughty like that. It doesn’t help when we get home, you know.”

“I guess you didn’t hear all of it. The hens got there right away, wouldn’t let your kids have any dessert until everybody else had eaten. I hear it nearly killed them. They thought there would be nothing left.”

Sylvia laughed. “Well let’s cram them into bed and call it a day!”

~~~~~~~~~~

After a disaster free brunch, Dobby led Sylvia and her three musketeers (complete with hats) down to the workshop. Rodney was attaching nautical bumpers to Newt’s sides as the Peahen in charge of decorating selected the colors.

“Are you kids ready for a ride? Hop on and check it out. I need to load on the snacks and then we can go.”

“Snacks?” said Sylvia. “We just finished brunch!”

“You never know how long you’ll be away. Best to be prepared.”

Sylvia narrowed her eyes, but perked up when she climbed up into the shiny amphibious vehicle. The little squirrels bounded past her, each one claiming a sumptuous sofa. A rabbit followed with trays, boxes, and bags of snacks to be stowed in the small kitchenette. Dobby walked around to the passenger entrance where Rodney stood ready to load him in.

“I want Sylvia to drive Newt, but I’m coming along to take notes or make adjustments,” said Rodney, as he placed his shoulder in position to nudge our Prince up into the vehicle. “I’ll add a small step on this side, too.”

“Oof,” and Dobby was in. He worked his way back, noting that each tiny squirrel had commandeered a plush couch, leaving him only a selection of smaller club chairs. Sylvia was already in the driver’s seat, and she looked back to check on her smaller charges.

“What are you guys doing? You’ve taken all the best seats so The Prince is stuck with the little chairs! One of you had better give up your seat, pronto!”

“It’s fine,” said Dobby. “I’m already buckled in back here. We’re just driving around, it’s not a test flight, or anything.”

The rabbit grabbed some empty boxes and hopped out the passenger side. Rodney stepped up into the vehicle’s salon, checked everyone’s seatbelts, strapped himself into the co-pilot’s seat, and they were off.

“It’s a standard gearshift, maybe a bit touchy at the clutch—“ said Rodney.

Sylvia shot him a withering glance, and drove Newt smoothly up the slope to the main driveway.

“How about you navigate. Can you talk me through a test course with a variety of terrain? Some slopes, some bumps, some deep water?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Rodney. “Turn left here, and we’ll go off-road in a jiffy. We can take the scenic route past the final resting place of the walking palace, and go down into the river. Come up at the fields, cut across on a farm road, and head back. There’s a small road just beyond a gazebo on the right. Here it is, turn right here.”

Sylvia expertly turned off the paved road onto a glorified deer trail through the brush. Branches scratched the sides of the vehicle and randomly poked the open windows. Sylvia looked at Rodney, who was busy peering ahead, oblivious to the forest trying to claw its way into the plush salon.

“The exterior has a fused silicon coating,” he said. “Nothing can scratch, puncture, or gouge this thing. I promise.”

Sylvia alternately bumped and galloped the responsive Newt over the uneven path, slowing to cross over small logs and large boulders. She turned to grin at Rodney.

“This is fun! I’m going to be sad when it’s off the ground, dangling from the airship. I’m glad Annabelle is taking over when the motocross driving becomes boring piloting. Do you know when that test flight is? Any idea?”

“Friday afternoon. We’re going to wait until you get here. You are coming Friday, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan. The party is Saturday, right? Are you going to that? I don’t quite understand the concept, but I think we are all going by zeppelin.” She glanced back at the prince, who was snoozing in an awkward position in his club chair. “But we haven’t been invited to the actual party. Does he expect us to hang out in the parking lot until the party is over?”

“Nobody wants to go to the party, not even the Prince. He wants to make a dramatic entrance, eat some cake, and leave. He wants us all there, waiting as emergency back-up, and an excuse to leave early. It should be fun, and he’s planned a big bash next Sunday for all of us. The rabbits have already submitted menus three times, and he keeps adding courses. There will be a band and dancing, of course, but he’s also asked for crafts tables and games. Oops! We passed the turn for the river. Can you back up? We need to go back to that clump of macadamia trees. Did you see the path on the right? That goes down to the river past the rusting heap that was the walking palace. Someday I’ll haul it out of there and strip it for parts.”

Newt trundled down the path and as the broken no-longer-walking palace came into view, there was a flurry of furry activity in the back. When Sylvia turned around, all three little squirrels were standing on one couch, leaning out the open window and chattering about the rusted magnificence of the ruined palace.

“All three of you! Sit back down, seat belts on! I don’t want to see you out of your seats again! You understand?”

The wailing started, waking the snoozing prince.

“The windows are too high! We can’t see out,” said Sali. She turned to the Prince. “Can you make us some really really really tall couches?”

The Prince considered this request. “No,” he said. “Sit down, buckle up. Right now. Then I will consider some hanging chairs, maybe those woven bamboo ones. They will have to be on tracks so you can move from one side to the other without unbuckling. I’ll have to think it through, and then, of course I will have to run it past my decorator. Will you need headphone jacks so you can listen to music? Bookshelves? Coat hooks, hat racks, built-in storage, cup holders?”

Cu gave him a sidelong glance. “That’s ridiculous.”

Dobby gave him a wide-eyed look. “What? You don’t want the cup holders?”

“Yes, we do!” said Tix. “But I think magazine racks and a tray table would be better than bookshelves. I don’t think we’ll have time to read a whole book, but I am going to bring my comic books if we have a magazine rack. They’re not going to fly out the window are they?”

Dobby considered this seriously. “I think it will work if it is an enclosed box with a lid. What do you think? You have some good ideas. Is there anything else Newt needs? That’s the purpose of a test drive: to work out the bugs, fine tune the accoutrements, spiff it up a bit. Think about it and let me know.”

Cu stared at him. “We need snacks.”

Dobby stared back. “Not until we are on the river. It’s too bumpy here.”

“Is everything okay back there?” Sylvia took her eyes off the road long enough to catch the stare down.

“Everything is just dandy back here. When we get into the river, it’s kind of boring. Why don’t you hand over the controls to Rodney at that point, join us back here for snacks?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Soon they were driving into the river . . .

Soon, they were driving down the soft bank of the river. The wheels spun a bit, trying to get purchase, a rooster tail of sand following their dubious progress. Rodney took a pencil from behind his ear and made a note on his clipboard.

“I’ll weld on a winch onto the back.”

“Not a sky hook?”

Rodney looked at her to see if she was serious. She was smiling, but right at that moment, her eyes opened wide and her mouth formed an O. Newt slid sideways and there was a gurgling sound as they plunged into the river. Rodney made another note on his clipboard.

“All-weather tires”

Newt bobbed about for a few seconds and then leveled out, spinning slowly to face downstream. They drifted slowly with the current.

To be continued . . .

~~~~~~~~~~

The stunning Cast of Characters:

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This story needs a lot more illustrations! Select an event from this story (how about jello?), draw a picture of it, and send me an email. I’ll reply so that you can attach a digital copy of your masterpiece to it. I’ll add it to the story!

Or, if you’d rather help with the glossary, send me the list of words you had to look up (or should have looked up, but didn’t!). Someday, I will start putting together the glossary. Do know what an amphibian is?

[contact-form] We've got more square dancing, more dessert, and (finally) a test drive in Newt, the passenger car part of the zeppelin. It's party time! Square dancing is introduced for the intrepid, the inexperienced, and the deranged, and nobody gets hurt.

#capybara #Dobby #fiction #Jello #Newt #Prince Dobalob #square dance #Sylvia #zeppelin

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