#might make em black pearls? white it fine too

[bluest-planet]

Sora would have ear piercings. And have a set of pearls from his mom to match. He progressively gets more throughout the games collecting grungy chunky earrings to mismatch his pearls cause he never takes em off.

#kh #Kingdom Hearts #kh sora #blue speaks #listen im right #i should draw him w said piercings #ik in my heart that if japan didn't look down on tattoos and earings eveyone in kh would either have industrial bars. cuffs. conches. etc #other than that one guy in org 13 but he also has like bleached hair and doesn't count cause thats peak delinquent energy #anyways this is in reference to both me n my sibling #she has a buncha chunky silver jewelry of chains and pearls and teeth or hands its great w the mixed metals? chefs kiss #but also the fact i never take off my jade pendant #so small hc that he also has a pearl necklace to make it a set maybe a ring or a bracelet he got as a baby too #but he keeps it safe and doesn't wear em cause he doesn't want them to get lost or break cause they're more fragile than the crown chain #maybe he holds it like a rosary in his pocket to think about his mom and Destiny Islands #the pearls stay on tho. all the time #might make em black pearls? white it fine too #they're his other good luck charm. or like. maybe in destiny islands pearls are rumored to ward off evil or bad luck. #again #kinda personal but its just in refrence to the jade i keep or my mom's evil eye or my sister's Guadeloupe pendant. #its about the tether to home and cultural belief in something that'll protect you and offers comfort even if it isn't real. #he totally shared the bracelt and ring or necklace with the heart hotel too.... that would be nice. or he buys them their own set #bc they never got baby jewlery gifts lol #idk i like the idea of sora buying them expensive personal gifts specifically clothes or jewelry for Xion Roxas and Vanitas to help them #develop their own taste n stuff in style #Ventus doesn't need it as much but he still appreciates it. #que the heart hotel wearing pearls to symbolize their bond as a found family #aaaaaand post!

[vixenpen]

You should DEFINITELY do a part 2 to the Dabi x teacher fic! Like it could be when they start taking their relationship to the next level and do some freaky things😏

Hot For Teacher pt.2 (Dabi x Black Reader)

Quirkless AU

(Friendly reminder in this Dabi owns a tattoo shop and is tatted and pierced up and reader is black and thiccccc🍑💦💦)

You were completely unaware of the turquoise eyes admiring your thick ass as you erased your last lesson from the white board.

Dabi’s dick flexed just imagining what sliding between those cheeks would feel like. The material of your conservative black dress clung to your juicy butt and round hips despite the loose material. He liked that.

After a while he couldn’t take it anymore and snuck up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pressing into you from the back.

“Dabi!” You squealed.

“Sorry, Ms. Y/n,” he chuckled against your kinky hair, “I just wanted to come by and see if it was possible to get some private lessons.”

You giggled, shaking your head, “you’re so corny. What are you doing here anyway?”

“I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner, but I’m hungry now.”

“What? What’s the supp-oh!”

The soft material of your knee length dress slid against your body and the next thing you felt were Dabi’s big, warm hands massaging your hips and a very familiar bulge against the crack of your ass.

“Damn, teach,” your boyfriend grinned against your ear, his deep raspy voice made you shiver. “You should have known better than to wear a thong with this little dress of yours. All those pervy male teachers probably haven’t been able to take their eyes off you.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt strong fingers groping and massaging your ass cheeks.

“Dabi,” you croaked weakly, “not here.”

Dabi responded by snaking his pierced along your neck. You whimpered.

“D-Dabi..”

“Hmm?”

One his hands squeezed your full breasts beneath the material.

“Stop, I’m serious.”

“You know, you’re really hard to resist, right beautiful?” His hard on was massaging you through the jeans.

The two of you had been dating for a few months now, and had yet to go beyond kissing and heavy petting that always left Dabi wanting more. He wasn’t sure what you were waiting for, but he did know you were worth the wait.

And boy did you make him wait for it...and work for it. It was as hot as it was frustrating. His dick was so hard it hurt, and all he could think about was fucking you on your desk until you were screaming his name.

He turned you around to face him easily and scooped you up by those thick thighs of yours.

The next few moments were a blur. You saw pens and papers knocked to the floor before feeling your big bare ass settle against the cool wood of the desk.

“My lesson plans!”

Dabi’s lips cut off your protest, and his fingers worked the black dress off your body and over your head, exposing your curves to the cool air.

It was dizzying and exciting and sexy and...inappropriate! So inappropriate. This was your job!

“D-Dabi, wait!” You gasped between the feeling of his pierced lips nipping at you. “There might be students-“

“School ended an hour ago. Trust me. No kids are in this building.” He chuckled, amused.

“The janitors might-“

“I locked the door, beautiful. We’ll hear ‘em comin’.”

Turquoise eyes roamed your thick, dark body hungrily, followed by hands stacked with rings.

“Damn, I want you.” He muttered, diving down between your big breasts to lick and suck at them.

“Ahh~” you dug your fingers into his crop of black hair. “We can’t.” You gasped.

“Says who?”

“Da-ahh! Mmm.” His tongue was now snaking down your stomach. Kisses and bites being left on the melanated skin below your belly button. Fuck it felt so damn good.

He admired the glistening mess between your legs, parting the thick thighs to admire your creaming pussy.

“Fuckin’ delicious.”

And then he dove in.

“Ohh go—“

Dabi slurped at your clit gently. The flick of his pierced tongue combined with the warmth of his mouth sucking the sensitive pearl sent electricity tingling through you.

Your eyes fluttered shut and the muffled sounds of heels clicking down the hall as remaining teachers walked past your locked room was the furthest thing from your mind.

This was so wrong. This went against everything you stood for, and yet...

“Moan for me, y/n,” Dabi commanded against your pussy. “Don’t hold back. Or else I’ma stop holdin’ back.”

“Dabi~”

He smirked up at your pretty brown face and his fingers glided easily into the gripping heat of your cunt.

“Ahhaaa! Fuck! Fuck...” your hips bucked against the sensation.

Months of only being able to play in your cat had given Dabi plenty of time to get to know your weaknesses. He exploited every one of them now. Throwing your thick thighs around his neck he flexed his fingers while licking at your folds.

You could only squirm against him, one hand grabbing his head to push his face deeper while the other gripped the edge of your desk.

“D-Dabi, god yes! Don’t stop! Don’t stop. B-baby, f-f-fu~”

Those sweet moans were music to Dabi’s ears. Your cum coated his fingers and your juices sprayed his face. He opened his mouth greedily drinking every drop.

Then he laughed low in his throat.

“Wow, Ms. Y/n, you really are a naughty teacher aren’t you?”

You tried to glare down at him, but it barely registered. You were too turned on to be pissed.

Dabi continued to tease you. “Letting me fuck you on your desk. Right here where you have to teach all these innocent young minds.”

“Sh-shut up!”

Dabi pressed kisses against the chunky meat of your thighs, his piercings tickled and his lips felt so good.

“Or what, Ms. Y/n?” He asked. “You’ll make me stay after class?”

He snickered and got to his feet.

You couldn’t help admiring him. He wasn’t a big guy by any means, but he was lean and well toned. You wanted to see all of him. Feel all of him.

Snatching him by his shirt, you pulled him close and locked your thick thighs around his trim hips. Your lips pressed against his, hungry to taste every bit of him.

The two of you pulled his shirt over his head and you grinned admiring the colorful tapestry of tattoos and, your favorite part, the barbells piercing his nipples.

Dabi gave a smug smirk. “What’s up, babe? Don’t wanna stop anymore?”

You cocked a brow. “Real funny for someone who moans like a bitch when I do this.”

Pulling him towards you by the waist of his jeans, you trailed your tongue around his nipple, gazing up at him in that way that drove him fucking crazy.

“Oh my god~” he sighed. “Fuuuck, y/n...”

You giggled softly, switching to the other nipple. A deep groan welled up from your man’s throat.

Taking back control, your hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pants, squeezing the thick length trapped in his jeans.

Fuck his dick was so big. You had wanted to fuck your man for the longest time. And just feeling how hard his big dick was for you only confirmed that.

You pressed kisses up along his bobbing Adam’s apple, sucking at his studded earlobes. Your lips pressed to his ear as you purred out; “Now whose being naughty?”

That was about all the man could take.

He snatched you up off the desk once more to turn you around, laying you against it.

You heard the clang of his belt buckle as he snatched off his belt. Then you felt the leather and studs of it kiss your phat ass as he cracked it against you.

“OH FUCK!” You screamed.

“Yeah?” Dabi growled. “Since you wanna talk shit and be a little tease that’s what your ass gets.” He snapped back.

He spanked you a few more times, not caring about what straggling teachers may have heard the noise.

Your mouth hung open as you felt your boyfriend’s lean body press against your body, long dick rocking between the cheeks of your butt.

“I been wanting to fuck your fine ass up for a minute Ms. Y/n.” He chuckled. “This is gonna be fun.”

He stood up admiring the view of that big, perfect ass jiggling with all its dimples and stretch marks in front of him.

God. He couldn’t wait to dive in it.

You craned your neck and admired the long dick slipping between your ass crack. A trail of piercings forming a jacob’s ladder on the underside.

Dabi caught your eye and grinned, eyes flashing. “You ready, babygirl?”

“Fuck me.” You replied.

That was all the answer he needed. Dabi wasted no time plunging deep into that juicy cunt of yours and a strangled groan escaped you both.

“Ahaaa~ fuuuuck yesss, Dabi!”

It was an odd sensation. His piercings added another sensation of texture to your throbbing walls. Your pussy couldn’t get enough of it because you felt yourself clenching and flexing for more.

Luckily he was more than happy to give it to you. His hips rocked back and forth making you feel every. Single. Inch. Every bump and ridge of your tight heat got massaged as he long stroked inside you.

“Fuckkk, y/n, you feel even better than I imagined, babygirl.”

The Angle made your big butt squeeze his cock going in and out, adding an extra grip to his dick. He dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass massaging and squeezing it while he pummeled deep into you.

“You gonna let me cum in this fat ass of yours, y/n? Huh?” He ground out through gritted teeth, fucking you sonhard your booty jiggled and the desk creaked.

“Yes daddy. You-c-can cum-ahh~where-ever you-fuccck-want!” You managed back, throwing your ass back at him as best you could.

“God damn right I can. Fuck!” He sighed.

Dabi alternated between fucking you hard and rough and slow and deep. His hand landed against your ass again and again and again. The sting barely registered as anything other than pleasure.

“Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck fuck FUCK! Don’t stop! Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” You gasped, drool drenching the desk where your mouth hung open.

“Got you baby-ah fuck! Don’t worry. Ima take care of you.” Dabi grunted back, eyes damn near closed in a mix of pure bliss and concentration.

The desk scraped as the force of your fuck session sent it sliding against the linoleum floors slightly. Neither of you stopped bucking and fucking.

If anything, you went harder. Dabi’s balls clapped your cunt with every stroke, and your ass jumped up to meet his pounding dick over and over until-

“AHAAA~”

“FUUUUCK!”

The two of you came so hard together it felt like you had ascended to another planet. Dabi Damn near collapsed on top of you. He pressed kisses against your curls and cooed about how amazing you felt. How amazing you were, as the two of you came down from your highs.

Finally, you were able to stand shakily to your feet—with Dabi’s help—and get dressed.

You sat back against the desk, panting and watching your very smug boyfriend pull on his shirt.

“I can’t believe we just did that.” You shook your head. “I knew you were trouble the day I met you.”

Dabi laughed. “Well, hey, if I’m so much trouble I could always come see you after class again.” He winked.

You threw a marker at his laughing face which he just barely dodged.w

“Shut the hell up and clean up my classroom.”

Still grinning Dabi leaned in for a kiss. “Yes ma’am, teacher.”

#body ody ody ody ody ody ody ody #my hero academia #bnha imagines #bnha #dabi x black!reader #dabi x reader smut #bnha scenarios #my hero fanfic #bnha headcanons #quirkless au #bnha smut #n/s/f/w #desk sex #roleplay #mha headcanons #dabi scenarios #bnha touya

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Fifty-Two

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Wee bit of angst.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

The Friday before he was going to Florida, Christin came into Harry’s office to go over the small details.

“Okay, so you, Julia, and I are going to meet at the airport around-“

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Julia.”

“Why is she comin’?”

“I want her to see how these expeditions work. Dana’s going to join in on the next one. Why? Do you have a problem with her?”

“No…it’s just…I don’t know. It’s fine.”

When he got home to the barren apartment that night he slammed the door shut, making you jump slightly.

“Jesus.” You say to him.

“Sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“They’re sendin’ fuckin’ Julia with me.” He groans. “I don’t want to be alone with her all week.”

“Well, you won’t really be alone with her.”

“You don’t care that she’s gonna be around me?”

“What’s there to care about?” You shrug. “What’s wrong Harry, can’t handle a little girl?” You smirk. “You’ll be fine.”

//

Of course you got your period the weekend of the big move. You and Harry were still able to have a good romp before he left, but it wasn’t the same. Your brother and mom came to help you with everything. Thank god for his truck. Niall, Sarah, and Rachel helped as well. Everything went pretty smoothly.

//

Harry had the aisle seat on the plane, Julia had the middle, and Christin had the window. He hadn’t said much to Julia. She eventually fell asleep, and her head landed on his shoulder. He tried to nudge her off, but she wouldn’t budge. He sighed loudly and tried to fall asleep himself. When she woke up she couldn’t help but marvel at just how beautiful he was. She looked at the pearls around his neck and wanted to know what he might do with them when he wasn’t wearing them. She was hoping to find out at some point during the week.

Harry helped carry the luggage out to the cab Christin had set up for them. The second he was alone in his room he FaceTimed with you. Everyone was eating pizza and laughing.

“Hey babe! You in your hotel?”

“Yes, finally. How’d it all go?”

“Amazingly! Say hi to Harry!” You yell off to everyone. They all say hi, making him chuckle.

“Have a great week off.”

“Anything you want me not to touch?”

“Nah, do whatever you like. M’sure there’ll be plenty left for me when I get back. Save the heavy shit f’me.”

“Can do. The girls are gonna sleep over here with me tonight.”

“Oh good. Wish I could be there.”

“Soon enough. Enjoy the nice weather! Love you!”

“Love you too.”

He sighs and flops onto the bed. This was going to be a very long week. There’s a knock on his door. He looks through the peephole and sees Julia. Here we go. He thinks to himself.

“Yes?”

“Hi.” She squeaks. “Um, Christin and I were gonna go down to the pool for a bit and get some lunch. Would you like to come?” He looks down at her. She had flip flops and a cover up on.

“No. Thanks. You can just have Christin text me when it’s time for dinner. Know she wants to go over all the plans then.”

“Could I have your number?” Both of his eyebrows raise. “You know, just in case.”

“Gimme your phone.” She hands it to him and smirks when he see the picture of Joe Jonas as her lock screen. “My girlfriend loves this guy. Could ya unlock it?”

“Oh sure.” She presses her thumb to the button. He adds his contact information and hands it back to her.

“For emergencies only, alright?”

“Alright…so you’re not going to eat lunch?”

“I might come down in a bit. I’m certainly not goin’ swimming. S’not a vacation.”

“True, but Christin said we could have some fun before working hard all week.”

“How nice for her. That all?”

“Yeah.”

He closes the door, practically in her face, and goes over to his bag. About an hour later he goes down to the hotel restaurant. He puts his sunglasses on and goes outside with his salad that he had made to go. Christin was lounging under an umbrella, he goes over to her and sits down.

“How are you wearing all black?”

“S’not that warm yet.” He shrugs.

“I think it’s perfect weather.”

“Where’s Julia?” Christin points to the hot tub. Harry rolls his eyes. “Thought you weren’t hungry for lunch.”

“I wasn’t earlier, now I am.”

“Hi Harry!” Julia says walking by, dripping wet in a purple two piece. She quickly wraps a towel around herself.

“Hi.” He says without looking at her. She was an attractive girl, and if he was a different type of man he wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of the situation. But he wasn’t like that…not anymore anyways.

“Wasn’t it your birthday over the weekend?”

“Yes.”

“How was it? How old are you?”

“It was good, I turned twenty-six.” He takes a bite of his salad. “My girlfriend threw me a huge surprise party.”

“She buy you the necklace too?” Christin asks. “Haven’t seen you wear pearls since you first started.”

“Yeah she did.” He smiles. “She’s the best. We’ll have been together six months on Friday.”

“Wow! Good for you, H.” She chuckles.

“How long you and Dan been together?”

“Little over ten years now. Never thought I was going to meet anyone worthwhile until he and I got together.” He nods.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m never going to meet anyone.” Julia says.

“You have so much time, you have no idea. Just enjoy being young.” Christin says with a smile. “Harry, did you even bring a bathing suit with you?”

“I mean Y/N had me pack one, but I doubt I’ll be wearin’ it.” He finishes up his salad and stands up. “Text me when it’s time for dinner, I’m gonna hang in my room for a bit, decompress.” Julia watches him walk away.

“He’s been so private since I met him, it’s so nice to hear him talk about someone like that. He must really love that girl.”

“Yeah.” Julia puts her sunglasses on and rolls her eyes. “Must be nice.”

//

That night at dinner Christin goes over the plans for the week. She tells them what time they’ll need to be up and out, and headed to the site. They’d be going out to an island where a weed had been taking over and the natural plants of the landscape couldn’t grow anymore. Julia would be interviewing the volunteers that go out to get rid of the weed.

“I’m so excited!” Julia says stepping off the elevator with Harry. Of course their rooms were on the same floor.

“Make sure you pack a hat and some sunscreen for yourself. Oh, and water. We’re goin’ to be out for a long time.”

“Right, thanks.” She beams at him. “I’m excited to check out the butterfly garden at the manatee habitat Wednesday too.”

“Yeah, they’re nice people. This is a follow up piece, they started the project last year.” He stops at his door. “Well, this is me.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

“Night.”

He calls you immediately.

“Is that Harry? Hiiiiii Harryyyyy.” He hears Sarah say through the phone.

“Gettin’ drunk in our place already?”

“Wouldn’t be a proper sleepover now would it? How was your day?”

“Long. I miss you already.”

“Awww. I miss you too baby.” He hears the girls make kissy noises through the phone. “Stop it you guys, be cool! Sorry.” You giggle.

“S’okay. Where are you all sleepin’?”

“We’re camping out in the living room. We all brought our sleeping bags.”

“Oh fun.”

“Mhm. You gonna be able to sleep?”

“Hopefully. I just wish I was there with you, I’m sorry.” He sighs.

“It’s okay. Only six more sleeps til your home.”

“Oh I like that. Six more sleeps.”

“Exactly. I’m gonna go now, I love you. Sweet dreams.”

“I love you too.”

//

The next morning, Harry puts on a white t-shirt, and lathers himself up with sun screen. He puts on a snapback and rests his sunglasses on the collar of his shirt. He packs the cameras and batteries he’ll need. He goes with a pair of light blue jeans and his boots. He meets Julia and Christin down for breakfast. Julia has to stop her jaw from dropping. The t-shirt looked snug against his muscles, and she could make out more of his tattoos. He looks at what Julia’s wearing.

“You might wanna wear pants. Don’t want your legs gettin’ scarped up do ya?” He puts his things down and goes up to the buffet.

“He’s right Julia. You can pack your shorts with you if you get too hot.”

“Okay.” She leaves to go change. Harry sits back down.

“How nice of you to act as her big brother.”

“Just helpin’ her with the tricks of the trade.” She comes back in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. “Much better. You’ll thank me later.”

The three head out to the site once they’re done with breakfast. They take a car out and meet a man at a dock. They have to take a small boat out to the island. Harry puts his sunglasses on. Julia can’t help but watch the curls from under his hat blow in the wind.

Christin and Julia talk with the volunteers at the site while Harry starts walking around. He begins snapping away. Julia was thankful she listened to Harry about everything. From the pants, to the hat, to the extra sunscreen. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when he took his shirt off. He tucked it into the back of his pants and continued taking pictures.

“Oi! Chris!” She whips her head to look at him. “Couldja spray some lotion on my back?”

“Yeah!” She hustles over to him and sprays the cool lotion onto him.

“Thanks. Sweatin’ my ass off.”

“I know.” She looks at her watch. “Let’s take a break and get you into the shade a bit. I packed some lunch.”

“Sounds good.”

“Julia, c ‘mon it’s lunch time.” She says to her.

The three sit in some shade and eat the sandwiches Christin brought. Julia can’t help but stare at Harry. He looks up and catches her gawking at him.

“You act like you’ve never seen a tattoo before.” He says to her.

“Sorry.” Her face blushes. “Um, when did you-“

“Got ‘em all years ago. Late teens and early twenties.” Harry’s phone buzzes and sees a text from you. He immediately smiles. You had sent him a video of the kitchen. He hits play.

“Hi! Okay, so I unpacked most of the kitchen. My mom helped a lot yesterday. Our bed is all made up too, but I can show you later. Isn’t it so nice in here? The girls were really jealous. Hope you’re having a good time! Please make sure you reapply your sunscreen, I don’t want you burnt to a crisp when you come back. Love you!” He chuckles and texts you back.

“Is she your mom or girlfriend?” A snide remark from Julia. Harry looks over at her slowly and squints.

“Nothin’ wrong with her checkin’ in. She loves me and wants me to be safe.” He gets up. “In fact, I’m gonna go send her a video a quick.”

He walks away so neither of them can hear him. He shows you where he is. When you get the video you can’t help but just stare at his sweaty torso. He looks really cool with the snapback and sunglasses. You text him immediately with a kissy face.

“Alright, let’s get back to it.” Christin says.

Harry grabs his camera and walks around the vegetation more. Julia got all she needed for the article that needs to be written, so she decides to follow Harry around. She watches the way he snaps the photo and looks at it to see if he likes it. He knew she was following him, but he didn’t mind. Maybe she just wanted to observe.

“Here, what do you think of this one?” She leans in to look at the upclose shot.

“Really cool! It’s crisp.”

“Mm.” He agrees. “Hey, I think we have everything we need.” He says to Christin.

“Let me look through.” He hands her the camera, and take his shirt out of his pants to put back on. “Oh these are amazing! I knew I was smart to bring you. I can’t wait to get you into that butterfly garden Wednesday.”

“What are we doin’ for the next couple of days?”

“Your favorite; under water shots. These same people are deploying oysters near the coast in this bay to help stop the erosion.” A smile grows on Harry’s face. “You’d be pissed if I did this without you, now wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe a little. And technically, my favorite shots are at night.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s head back to the boat.”

//

That night you decided to have a glass of wine while organizing some boxes. You didn’t want to go through too many of Harry’s things. You stumble upon a smaller box that said “X Photos” on it. Were they pictures of ex-girlfriends? Your buzzed curiosity takes over and you open it. You gasp when you see the first photo. It was of Harry. Only he was fully naked, lying on the floor, his legs leaning up against a wall, tastefully covering his manhood.

“Oh my god.” You say to yourself. “Who the fuck took these for him?”

You sit down and go through them. There were dozens more. He looked good, really good. The pictures didn’t look too old either. You were amazed at how the camera captured every curve of his beautiful body. Then there it was. A picture of him holding his fully erect penis with a smirk on his face. You realize the x on the box meant it was rated x.

“Jesus.”

Your eyes dance over the way he grips himself, and you need to put it down before your mind wanders. There was a more serious photo behind it. There were a couple of him wearing boxers too. He looked like an underwear model. Despite them being so revealing, the pictures were gorgeous. The lighting was perfect.

“Where did he take these?” You squint at one photo. You sort of recognize it and you gasp. “His flat in London.” Your phone goes off and you nearly jump. A FaceTime request from Harry. “Shit.” You put the pictures away quickly and answer the phone. “Hey babe.”

“Hey!”

“You looked cute earlier.”

“Thanks. And I didn’t get sun burnt. Got a nice tan comin’ along though.”

“Can’t wait to see it.”

“You look a bit flushed, are you alright?”

“Um.” You look back at the box. You weren’t sure if you should tell him about finding his very personal photos. “Okay, I wasn’t snooping through your things, but I found some photos…of you.”

“Oh?” He furrows his brows trying to think. “Oh! The naked ones?” He had zero shame or embarrassment.

“Yeah.”

“Good, was hopin’ you’d find those.” He smirks. “What’d you think?”

“They were gorgeous of course. Who…took them for you?”

“I took ‘em myself. I was home for a few weeks last summer and I was bored. I had just gotten a new lens, and I was testing out some black and white effects.”

“And you had them printed?”

“Printed ‘em myself too. I had gotten a fancy photo printer.”

“You were…hard in a few of them.”

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know, I was just havin’ fun.”

“Oh.”

“Was that your favorite?”

“Actually, this one was.” You go into the box and take out the first photo you saw.

“Oh yeah, there’s some left to the imagination with that one.”

“You should seriously just be an underwear model.” He chuckles. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” He smirks at you.

“What?”

“Nothin’, just thinkin’, like, would you ever let me take pictures of you like that? You know, tasteful ones?”

“Like a boudoir thing?”

“Sure. We could set the loft up all nice, and the pictures would just be for us.”

“I’ll think about it. I feel like I would be so awkward.”

“I’d tell ya exactly what to do. Totally professional.”

“Has someone ever paid you to take boudoir photos?”

“God no. Although, I have taken a few pictures of some naked pregnant women before.” He laughs.

“So, how was your day?”

“It was good. I’m going under water tomorrow, I’m actually kind of excited.”

“Oh that sounds like fun!”

“Yeah…I wish I could go to sleep with you.”

“Me too. Bed feels too big when you’re not there.”

After some more chatter, you both hang up, and you go do your nightly routine. Just as you’re getting into bed, you get a snapchat text from Harry.

“What in the…” You open it.

Harry: textin ya on here so the messages disappear.

Your cheeks heat up. He was in the mood.

You: Alright

Harry: I’m really fuckin hard

“Jesus.” You feel your lower stomach twist in knot.

You: oh? Just from seeing my little face?

Harry: yes

You: are in bed?

Harry: yes

You: would you like to know what I would do if I were there?

Harry: enlighten me

A wicked grin grows on your face as you dial his number.

“Hello?” He says chuckling.

“Hey, I just thought of something fun and I thought you might like to hear my voice as I say it.”

“Alright, lay it on me.”

“I have a challenge for you, and I’ll do the same so you won’t suffer alone.”

“Okay?”

“I don’t want you to touch yourself at all while you’re gone.”

“No way, it’ll be easier for you since you’re on your period.”

“I usually get off in the shower without telling you.”

“Jesus, don’t tell me stuff like that.” He groans as his cock twitches. “Why do you wanna do this to me?”

“Because imagine how fucking good it’s gonna feel when you come home. Please?”

“What will I get as a reward? There’s gotta be a really good incentive here.”

“Reward? Babe, I’m going to let you fucking annihilate me when you get back.”

“Fuck.”

“But that’s only if you do as I ask, okay? We’re on the honor system here.”

“And you’re not gonna do anythin’ either?”

“Nope.”

“Alright, challenge accepted.”

“Sweet dreams, hope you don’t wake up with sticky sheets thinking of me.” You giggle and hang up.

//

By mid-week you were really starting to miss Harry. It wasn’t like you could just go hang out with Niall or your other friends during the day because they all still had to work. There was plenty to do in the apartment, but you didn’t want to do any of it without him. You decided to spend some time getting a jump on your assignments for class. There was a big research paper you had to do, and now was as good a time as any to start it. Niall said you could come over for dinner that night, and you were excited you didn’t even have to drive to go over. You loved your new place, but you knew you’d love it more once Harry was home.

//

Harry was exhausted by the time Wednesday rolled around. He spent two days diving under murky water just to get some pictures of oyster shells in bags. He got some great shots, but fuck, at what cost? He’d be spending the rest of the week at the manatee habitat. He wasn’t super thrilled.

“This is beautiful!” Julia exclaims, stepping into the butterfly garden. “Harry, do you think we’ll see any manatees?”

“Probably not, they’re not usually here this time of year.”

“Oh.” Her smiles slowly fades.

“But, um, you can certainly look. There could be some.”

Christin was inside the building talking to the couple of people that worked at the habitat. She walks out with them and Harry wants to blow his brains out.

“H, you remember Molly and Beth right?”

“Sure, hi.” He shakes both of their hands. He had slept with Molly last time he was here. Not super professional, but so it goes.

“So glad you’re back.” Molly says to him. Julia comes walking back over.

“Ladies, this is Julia, she’ll be interviewing you for the next couple of days.”

“Great! Should we start with the garden?” Beth asks.

“Sure!” Christin and Julia follow her. Harry fiddles with his camera.

“How you been?” Molly asks him, her cheeks flushed.

“Good, really good. How ‘bout yourself?” He takes a test shot of a tree. “So fuckin’ bright out today, wish it was overcast.” He says to himself. She raises an eyebrow at him. “Less shadows when it’s overcast, can get a clearer picture. I’m gonna have to fuck with all the settings.”

“You’re a talented guy, as I recall.” She winks at him and walks to catch up with the others.

Once he gets things how he likes, Harry starts snapping shots. The benches in the garden were painted a vibrant blue. He thinks of you, knowing you’d love the color. He takes his phone out quick to take a picture to send to you. He gets a reply immediately and smiles big, then puts his phone away.

“What do you suppose made him smile like that?” Molly asks Julia. She sighs.

“Probably his girlfriend that he’s gaga for.” She rolls her eyes.

“Girlfriend?” She watches Harry squat so he can take a picture of a butterfly that’s just landed on top of a flower. “Damn, that’s too bad.”

“Why’s that?”

“Oh, nothing, never mind.” She shakes her head.

Harry comes walking over to Julia and Molly.

“Where’s Chris?”

“Inside with Beth.”

“Right, well she has all the water.”

“Thirsty, Harry?” Molly was trying to be cute with him, but he wasn’t having it.

“I can get it myself, but thanks for offerin’.” He says sarcastically, brushing by her.

“Pleasant as ever.” She crosses her arms.

“Did, um, something happen between you two?”

“Not super appropriate to talk about while on the job.”

“It’s off the record.” Julia jokes.

“Yeah, when he was here last year we hooked up. And I’ll be honest, I still think about it. He, uh, really knows what to do with it.”

“Did you stay in contact at all?”

“Nope, he totally ghosted me after he went home. Don’t blame him though.” She shrugs. “I mean, I didn’t expect a long distance relationship or anything. But I am disappointed that he’s not single. Wouldn’t have minded picking up where we left off.”

Harry comes back out with his Julia’s water bottles. He hands it to her.

“Thanks Harry! I could’ve gotten it.”

“I know.” He smiles at her. “This one wants to see a manatee, could ya walk her around and show her where they usually are?”

“I’d be happy to, come on Julia. The habitat is pretty big.”

Julia mouths thank you to Harry and he nods. Selfishly he was happy to be alone in the garden to walk around and snap shots as he pleased.

“He seems to like you.” Molly says to her.

“He was just being nice. He’s not always so nice though. He can be kind of snippy, but also mysterious.”

“Definitely mysterious.”

“I have a huge crush on him, it’s so hard.” She looks back at him.

“Look, it’s not like he’s married.” She shrugs. “It’s okay to flirt a little.”

//

“Harry these are beautiful! Well done!” Christin says looking over the days’ worth of shots. “Can’t wait to come back tomorrow so we can get some more.”

“Thanks, beautiful garden. Very tranquil.”

“You both ready for some dinner? There’s a restaurant around here we can go to.”

“Sounds great.” Julia says.

The three end up at a bar and grille.

“Okay, so, as a rite of passage, we’re ordering the fried alligator.” Christin giggles. “I know you won’t eat it Harry, so we’re also getting the fried pickles.”

“Fine.”

“Why fried alligator?”

“Because we’re in Florida and it’s a tradition when we come down here.”

“The girls at the habitat were really nice.”

“Yeah, they were great to us last year. Harry even got a private tour of the area.” He chokes on his drink. “Remember? Molly took you for a drive to some other sites.”

“Yup, I remember.” His cheeks started to turn a light pink.

“So, what’s your new place like?”

“It’s massive. Two bedrooms and two full baths. And there’s a loft. Not entirely sure what we’re gonna do with it yet. She said I could use it as a home studio, but I think we should just both put our desks up there and have it as a more formal working space. We’ll see.”

“That’s great, H. Sorry all this got in the way of your move.”

“S’okay, she was really understanding.”

“Julia, any boys come into your life at school?”

“Not this semester since the internship is full time.”

“You must still go to parties and hang out with friends though.”

“Oh I do…no one’s really caught my eye. Guys my age can be really immature.”

“Take it from me, guys at every age are immature.” Harry gives her a look as he scoffs. “It’s true! That’s why I opted for an older man. Hubby’s got five years on me, that’s why it worked. Our maturity levels are the same. You’re older than Y/N, right Harry?”

“Yeah, but only by a year and half.”

“Still, older is the way to go.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Julia says.

//

After his shower, Harry couldn’t wait to settle into bed with his book. He had cranked the A/C and got cozy in his favorite joggers and a t-shirt. Just as he was getting his glasses on, there was a light tap on his door. He sighs heavily and goes over to the door to see Julia.

“Yes?”

“I didn’t…I didn’t know you had glasses.” He pushes them up like a headband to rest on the top of his head.

“They’re for readin’.” He crosses his arms. He looks down to see her holding some toiletries and some pj’s. “What’s all this?”

“My shower doesn’t have any hot water.”

“Didja give it a minute?”

“Gave it like ten minutes, just wouldn’t heat up.”

“So…why are here?”

“Could I use your shower?”

“Go use Christin’s.”

“I can’t, she wouldn’t answer her phone. She must’ve passed out after dinner. Please, Harry?”

“Alright, fine. But make it quick.” He lets her into the room.

“Thank you so much!”

“Should still be a dry towel in there.”

She nods and goes into the bathroom. How the fuck did he get himself into this? He picks up his phone and immediately calls you.

“Hey baby, you ready to read to me?”

“I was…”

“What do you mean?”

“Julia’s in my shower.” He whispers.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“She said her hot water wasn’t workin’.”

“And yours was?”

“Well…yeah. I hope she fuckin’ leaves right after. I don’t know what kind of game she’s playin’.”

“Oh, you’re paranoid.”

“I don’t know, this seems weird.”

“Harry, she knows you’re in a relationship, she’s not going to try anything funny.”

“Not everyone’s a nice as you.” You sigh.

“Look, it’s not like I can come down there and save you. Do you wanna stay on the phone with me so she leaves right away?”

“No…I think that’ll make it more awkward.” He hears the water turn off. “Shit, I think she’s done. At least she listens.”

“What?”

“I told her to make it quick.” He sighs. “I’m gonna turn the TV on. I’ll call you back in a bit.”

“Alright.” He hangs up.

He flips the channels to see if anything good was on. Reruns of The Simpsons, that’ll do. He hears the door click open, she comes out in a tank top and shorts. Her hair was down and still pretty wet, causing the top of her shirt to get wet.

“Were you talking to someone?”

“Hm? Um, yeah, I was just on the phone quick.” She looks at the TV.

“Anything good on?”

“Just The Simpsons.” He sighs.

“Oh I love The Simpsons!”

“Aren’t you a little young to love this show? You probably don’t get half the references.”

“Some of the older episodes are a little confusing, but for the most part I just think it’s funny.” She sits on the corner of the bed, and Harry inches backwards.

“Listen, um…”

“Is it okay if I hang out for a bit? These nights have been a little boring and lonely. I can only check my social media so many times.”

“You can stay for one episode, but that’s it. I’m pretty tired…been out all day in the sun ya know?”

“Alright, thanks Harry.” She turns around to look at the space next to him on the bed. “Do you mind if I-“

“You can sit in the chair if you’re back hurts sittin’ like that.” He points to the chair near the desk in the room. She sighs.

“That’s alright, I’ll just sit like this.” She shifts to lay on her stomach, propping her face up with her palms. Ass fully on display for him. She knew exactly what she was doing.

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He tries to just concentrate on the TV. It was a pretty good episode too. He finds both him and Julia giggling at certain parts.

“Harry?” She turns to look at him, laying on her side.

“Hm?”

“Did you always know you wanted to be a photographer?”

“No…it was just a hobby for a long time. When I got to uni I took an intro photographer course and realized it was what I wanted to do.”

“You do a lot of freelance work right?”

“Mhm.”

“Does that get tiring on top of all this?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“What types of-“

“Why are yeh askin’ me all these questions?”

“Just trying to get to know you better…I’ve been working for you for nearly two months and I feel like I don’t know a single thing about you.”

“You don’t work for me.”

“I work with you…I know Isaac really well, even Myk at this point. She’s gotten a little nicer. I think she was happy I got sent here instead of her.”

“She wouldn’t have wanted to be on a plane with me for three hours, that’s for sure.” He smirks.

“Did you two used to date?”

“I think that’s enough with the personal questions.”

“That’s a yes.” She smiles.

“We didn’t date.” He sighs. “Sometimes when you’re young and stupid…you do stupid things.”

“You’re still young, Harry. Really young.” She giggles. “Remember the day you said I could just call you Harry?”

“Um…”

“I actually kind of miss just calling you Mr. Styles.” Yup, he knew exactly what she was doing.

“Julia, I-“

“And you thought my name was Julie, that was so cute. You could’ve called me whatever you wanted, and I probably wouldn’t have cared.” She laughs. Harry looks at the clock on the night table.

“Look, it’s gettin’ late, and I’m supposed to call my girlfriend back.”

“That was her earlier, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. And I need to call her back.”

“What’s so important?” He sighs heavily.

“She is.” He gets off the bed and walks towards the door. “You came here for a shower, remember? Should I call maintenance for you tomorrow so this doesn’t happen again? Or will everything be miraculously fixed?” She gets up and stands near him.

“You think I lied about my shower being broken? Why would I lie about that?”

“You tell me.” He crosses his arms. She swallows hard. “I think you’re a nice girl, I do. I think you have a lot of potential as a writer. But you’re out of your fuckin’ mind if you think I would ever do anythin’ to hurt my girlfriend. So, whatever you thought might happen by comin’ in here, needs to leave your head because it’s not.”

“I…”

“Even if I was single, you’re like six years younger than me, I wouldn’t take advantage of someone like that. Trust me, you don’t wanna fuck someone you work with.”

“But you can fuck the people you see on business?” She crosses her arms. “Molly told me.”

“Of course she did.” He rolls his eyes. “Listen-“

“Stop telling me to listen! I’m an adult, same as you, and I-“

“Really? Because comin’ in here the way you did makes you look like a child, a brat actually. Tryin’ t’get your way. Did you really think a little pair of shorts was goin’ t’be enough to seduce me?” She blinks at him, she feels tears prick at her eyes. “Shit.”

“I just…I don’t know…I really like you, Harry.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel!”

“But you don’t even know me, Julia.” He puts a hand on her shoulder. “You know some version of me you see at work every day.”

“I’m really fucking attracted to you, I can tell you that.”

“I’m sorry about that, really I am. But it’s just not gonna happen.” He takes his hand off her.

“What does she have? What makes her so goddamn special?”

“For starters, she’s out of undergrad and has her life together.” He knew what he said would slice right through her, but she needed to hear it. “I can’t really explain the rest of it. I quite literally think she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life, she brightens my day just bein’ herself, and I love every little fuckin’ thing about her, even her less than favorable qualities. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and I hope to god you meet someone that makes you feel the same way too. It’s the most amazing and awful feeling at the same time. If I were to lose her, especially over somethin’ like this, I don’t know what I would do. A quick fuck isn’t worth it, and maybe someday you’ll learn that. And honestly, shame on you for comin’ in here and tryin’ to make somethin’ happen when I’ve told you time and time again how in love I am with her.”

“I’m sorry, okay! I know I was wrong.” He sighs again.

“I forgive you. Look, I’m happy to be friendly with you, give you any advice I can about the job, whatever you need, but that’s where this ends, that’s where the line is, alright? I know how a lot of people at the studio look at me. I see it on Isaac’s face every mornin’ when I walk in, and I see it when I look at some of the other people. Don’t you think I feel bad? It’s partially why I keep my distance. I don’t want to make anything worse for anyone else.”

“But that adds to it! The mystery is so sexy.” She laughs. “When I say that out loud I just sound pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic, you’re a girl with a crush…and I’m sorry I can’t return your feelings.”

“It’s not your fault.” She sighs. “I’m really sorry about all of this, I made such a fool out of myself…”

“It’s okay. Let’s just move on, yeah?”

“Okay. Well, I guess I’ll go now. I’m really sorry again, I didn’t mean to spoil your night.”

“Don’t think much of it, not spoiled at all.” He smiles at her and opens the door.

“Can you not mention any of this to Chris? I, um, lied about texting her.”

“I assumed so, and yeah, I won’t tell her.”

“Thanks…you’re really cool you know that?”

“Goodnight, Julia.”

“Night.”

He closes the door and locks it. He wants to scream. He can’t believe he just had to lecture her like it was his child or something. He jumps to the bed and FaceTimes you immediately.

“It’s about time, I was just about to fall asleep. Did she just leave?”

“Yeah…she made a pass at me.”

“What?!”

“Well, nothing physical…but she was wearing really short shorts and said something like how she missed just calling me Mr. Styles…so I gave her a stern talking to and had her leave.”

“A stern talking to from Mr. Styles.” You giggle.

“This isn’t funny! She thought I was goin’ t’fuck her.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t.”

���I would never.”

“I know that.”

“You really weren’t worried about her at all?”

“Harry, you’re a big boy, and more importantly, I trust you. You said you’d never do anything to hurt me and I believed you. What we have is solid, I know you wouldn’t risk it just for some college girl’s loose vagina.” He bursts out laughing.

“Not exactly a woman supporting another woman are yeh?”

“I don’t have to talk nice right now, she just tried to get into your pants.”

“Wish you were here to get into my pants.”

“How are you doing with the no touching?”

“I’ve refrained, just like you told me to. It’s fuckin’ torture.”

“It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

#harry styles #take it slow #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y//n #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles angst fic #harry styles smut fic #i feel like this was a filler episode #dialogue heavy #what did we think? #come hang out in my ask box

[meowdymista]

Van der Driscoll Pt8

Part 7 - Masterlist

Part 9

This is somehow only 3800 words long, possibly because I killed three pages of flashback and squished it into a handful of paragraphs. BUT there’s no in game script this time (hooray!) so hopefully will be a bit more of a fun read.

Gentle reminder that the only reason I’m still writing this discarded one shot is because @memekingofwwiii and @artisticpoet replied to the original post three months ago. Any feedback always goes a long way, and if you wish this project had died back at the beginning, you have them to blame #sorrynotsorry

***

“Miss LN, if you do not quit your incessant pacing, I will tie you to the mill stone in Rhodes and rent you out as a donkey!”

Your apology is empty and Miss Grimshaw’s scowl tells you she knows it. Hosea folds down the paper, pressing precisely over the creases before setting it aside. “They won’t be long now, I’m sure of it.”

O’Driscoll’s had intercepted Mr Pearson on his way to Rhodes with the message that Colm was proposing a truce. They claimed it was better to rally together as a dying species than to let the Pinkertons pick off smaller groups fighting amongst themselves.

That wasn't your primary concern. The thought of the O’Driscoll’s so close to camp rattled you, and shook Kieran like an oversized jelly. There was a chance they wouldn’t see through your altered appearance and you could slip past them, but for Kieran who rode with them for two months... To be shot on sight would be a mercy, and both of you knew that that wasn’t the O’Driscoll way.

Dutch announced that as doubtful as the proposition was, he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to put the past behind him. Assigning Micah as his number two and Arthur as back up, the trio rode out of camp despite the shaking heads and words of disapproval.

“We’ve been in worse situations before and got out of it,” continues Hosea, his bright eyes tired. “Arthur’s the best shot in camp. He’ll take care of any trouble before it starts.”

You hum in acknowledgement before dismissing yourself. You haven’t told anyone about the vibrantly vivid dreams you’ve been having. Abigail has told you in the past that she had them a lot whilst expecting Jack, something to do with the raging hormones, but you can’t shake the dread that’s become sediment in the bottom of your heart. There is something about the way Dream Micah is relentless in his beatings... the way he sneers at every missed punch from Dream Arthur… the shine of moonlight on the infamous double action revolver with its custom black and red grip, and the flicker of fire highlighting the etching Vengeance is hereby mine. To know Arthur is out there with Micah’s only cheerleader is unsettling to say the least. What if it’s not the chaos of change? What if these dreams are a premonition?

You shake the thought of Dutch’s polished boots crushing Arthur’s outstretched fingers from your mind. A dream, you tell yourself firmly. A dream and nothing more.

Stripping to your undergarments, you wade out into the lake in search of a distraction. There’s an island not too far from shore. You could be alone with your thoughts there if you took the boat out, or even if one of the horses wanted to take a swim, but the nagging in your stomach has tied a knot to the centre of the camp. You can’t wander far for fear of the Dream Arthur’s beaten corpse welcoming you back.

“Miss Thomas, I-” Kieran squawks loudly from the shoreline, staring up awkwardly into the evening sky. You sigh and retreat enough to stay underwater whilst remaining within earshot. “I-I’m sorry, M-Miss, I didn’t think you was- that you were-!”

“It’s fine, Kieran. Pass me the towel on that rock?” He obliges, eyes still scouring the heavens like a lost monk until you’ve tied it around your waist and shrugged on one of Arthur’s old shirts. “You heard something?”

“Should I have? Oh, about Arthur and Dutch. They ain’t back yet. I was- I was just wanting to, erm, to check how you was feelin’ with the whole… Colm... thing.”

You consider lying. It would be an appetising distraction to feed him a cool indifferent nature and watch him squirm in paranoia, however you’re not sure how much longer you can fight the burn of madness at the edge of your mind. 

“Scared shitless,” you admit eventually, the corners of your mouth tugging downwards despite your best efforts. “Not even for Arthur being gone, but… if they know. If they know the truth, or if they find out about…�� Your fingers touch the soft curve of your stomach. “About Arthur and... I don’t know what I’ll do. What we can do.”

Kieran nods quietly, clearing his throat as his eyes dart over the shore, like a rabbit catching the scent of coyotes on the wind. “Colm burns through men like cigars, but Lord knows what them O’Driscoll boys’ll do if they get their hands on us.”

“We’ll be dead if we’re lucky,” you mumble, turning a smooth pebble in your hands before skimming it over the water. “The lucky ones… they go quick.”

You can feel his gaze burning into the side of your skull, but you try to keep your posture indifferent. You know what he’s going to ask before he even inhales.

“What happened with Peader? Was it quick or…?”

“Quick.” You skim another stone as your heart battles its way into your throat. You don’t have the energy to feign ignorance this time. “I made sure of that.”

“What- what he do?”

Shadows move around the camp, indifferent to your whereabouts. Taking a deep breath, you begin to tell the story honestly, hoping that perhaps if you acknowledge and repent your sin out loud, whatever God there is out there will return Arthur to you.

You tell him about meeting Peader in a quiet saloon on the outskirts of Blackwater - a place where even the cobwebs had moved on in anticipation for the new place opening on the main road. How Peader swooped in, landing on a chair opposite you, his grin brighter than a beacon from his day drinking.

“Yull never guess the shit I just got us. A boat with a shit tonne o’ gold is docking here end o’ this week. Minimum security, no guards, easy pickings. Can you believe it?”

“No,” you scoff, stifling a yawn. “Ain’t no such thing.”

“Tha’s what I said, but this feller I was talkin’ to was from the bank. He was sayin’ that it'd be the steal of the century if anyone pulled it off. They’d tried hiring security, but no one was taking ‘em up on it. Said it was travelling too far, was too high risk of being hit, so they decided to play it all poker like and just send the ferry anyways.”

“And you trust this feller?”

“Sure, as much as anyone else I meet on the street.”

“How’d you know he isn’t setting us up? Or that he really works for the bank?”

“Bastard was dressed up all fancy. Had the same chain on his waistcoat you see ‘em all wearing and the stupid twirly moustache. Ain’t many jobs that afford a man a belly like his. He reeked of paper and safe codes, trust me.”

You tell Kieran how the saloon was empty apart from the bartender and a man catching a nap in a booth across the room, neglecting to mention the way his white hat sat low over his eyes and the thick blond handlebar moustache twitching in sleep. You do tell him the details of the job - that Peader reckoned you’d need at least five men to carry the gold, plus a couple more for shooting. You even tell him when the ferry docked - a date black on your tongue - and how your panic was exacerbated with rising frustration when Peader began to bite back at your doubt, accusing you of doubting him, of stealing the credit for past jobs he’d arranged.

“Obviously some other outlaws got wind of the same tip you did. It’s not the first time we’ve crossed paths with folk like us - and with the law tightening up the way it is, of course we’re gonna start stepping on each other’s toes-”

“Look, I get you have your day trips or mini vacations and the like. I get you’re a good shot an’ all, but you’ve gotta stop lyin’ to me! Knocking me out and keeping the take for yourself-”

“There was no take, Peter, because I was hauling your heavy ass out of their way! Them Van der Linde’s are a better shot than either of us, an’ between a few dollars and a can of vegetables or an extra gun at my side, I’ll choose the latter every time.”

You take a deep breath to slow your quaking heart and keep your emotions from getting the better of you. Your voice cracks as you recall following your friend outside for him to tell you Colm had come by camp earlier that week asking for you. His black eyes fiery, the stubble on his face uneven from his last shave... The proper use of his given name was lost on the wind whistling over the plains, because Colm had personally promoted you. You, who had no prior experience with weaponry before Peader took the time to show you. 

Your vision fades to black. The panic, the total contrast to your good friend, everything accumulates to cast darkness over your sight. You know this can only end one way, and it’s too painful to consider. The pearl grip in your hand is cool at first touch, but quickly grows hot as your ears ring with bullets fired.

The stallion rears and bolts west of town.

Kieran must realise he’s openly gawping as he quickly clears his throat. “W-was that the same ferry these fellers hit?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Guess the idiot that told Peter didn’t keep his trap shut.”

“I heard he was working with them Pinkertons?”

You shrug sadly. “I might have… twisted the truth a little when Colm asked about him. Made it sound like he was a snitch… with hindsight he would have got us all killed, but he knew too much about me. Suddenly, with Colm asking after me, he had motive to dig deeper and find out the truth. I couldn’t risk it.”

You catch Kieran’s hand hesitating in the corner of your eye, before he decides the comfort would be improper and instead puts it back into his own lap. “I’m sorry to hear that, Miss. Sometimes we gotta make choices an’... an’ we just have to live with what comes afterward.”

You hum in agreement. Kieran takes a deep breath, clearly about to say something else, when you hear a horse whinny in the distance. Apologising hastily, you jump to your feet, relief flooding you as you hurry back up onto the grass in time to see the Count and Baylock trotting in with their owner’s sat tall astride them.

“So?” calls Hosea from the front of the crowd gathered by the hitching posts.

Dutch shakes his head once, sighing. “We ain’t got shot at least.”

Your ears strain for further movement, your stomach dropping every passing second as the chill of your recurring nightmare creeps down your spine. “Where’s Arthur?” 

“Calm down, Guinevere, he’s probably off doin’ somethin’ or other.” Micah smiles all smarmy. “Probably watchin’ our backs, being the little hero that he is. He’ll be back before long.”

Hosea mirrors your frown of concern. “You ain’t seen him?”

“He’ll be fine, Hosea,” Dutch sighs, waving his hand dismissively as he strolls back to the large white tent on the shore. “He always is.”

You shiver violently. Arthur never lets the group disperse after a job until everyone is accounted for. One night after a few too many bottles of whisky, Karen had told you how Arthur had to be all but dragged from Blackwater during their hasty retreat into Ambarino. Eventually Dutch had ordered him to scout ahead for somewhere to camp so that they didn’t need to worry about losing their sharpest shooter to any law catching up to them.

You pull yourself away and head back to the waters, trying to hear any gunshots or further movement beneath Hosea’s continued dispute.

“I see Micah and Dutch are back?” You shrug at Kieran’s hesitant observation. “I’m sure he’s fine. You seen him with a gun?”

You drop the towel and sink your head under the water as soon as you’re able to, effectively ending the conversation. When your head next breaks the surface, Kieran is gone and your towel is folded neatly in his place.

You don’t sleep that night. You can’t sleep. Despite the luxury of space for your expanding body and the warm Lemoyne air acting as a blanket in its own right, you’re still unable to rest without his body heat, without the weight of his arm around you, pressing against your back, the itch of facial hair on your exposed skin.

Every little movement has you sat up expectantly. There is no need for privacy without Arthur’s preference for hidden intimacies, so you’ve rolled up every wall of your tent to keep lookout. The fires in camp are dying down to ash as Micah caresses his knife with sandpaper nearby.

“Yes, Miss LN?” Micah smirks. “Can I help you?”

“What have you done?” Your voice is barely a whisper. Micah’s breathy laugh matches your volume - the most manners he has shown you since you met.

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

“Where is Arthur?” You’re stood behind him, your fists shaking at your side as you try to contain the terror of the unknown. “You must know something.”

“Guinevere, I’m sure your white knight will make an appearance eventually.” Shaking his head, he chuckles and turns back to the wisps of burning ash. “I mean, unless another princess has taken his attention. What’s her name? Maggie? Molly?” He throws you another look over his shoulder. “Or was it the queen that took off with someone else? I ain’t ever really had the patience for fairy stories myself.”

“He wouldn’t just disappear!” you argue, setting aside your confusion at his jibes. “This is Arthur. What did he say after you left Colm?”

“He told me he needed a little less mollycoddling from his baby carrier.” He scoffs, his pale grey eyes meeting yours in the last of the light. “How do I know? It ain’t no secret we ain’t the closest of buddies. Maybe he’s done a John and got cold feet, hmm? Now leave me alone!”

When the sun eventually rises, you pull your blouse and skirts over your underclothes without bothering to wash. With a fist full of pins to fix your hair out of your face, you hurry over to where Miss Molly is applying a faceful of powders.

“Jesus wept!” she gasps, stepping back as though your dishevelment was contagious. “What happened to you?”

Looking up at the interruption, Dutch marks his page and sits up. “Something the matter, Miss?”

“Arthur’s still not back.”

He rolls his eyes, body relaxing and book already reopened with his finger finding where he left off. “When you’ve known Arthur as long as I have-”

“I’m not saying he doesn’t disappear for days, I just want to know what happened after you saw Colm.”

“Why? Has your escape plan backfired?” The thick moustache twitches in fake humour. “Maybe your O’Driscoll charm has paid off and Arthur’s switched sides, taking your place as Colm’s number two.”

“Arthur would never betray you like that,” you argue, but the flash in the leader’s eyes makes you question the degree of betrayal felt when you were brought into camp. “You all rode off together. You must have seen him leave to cover for you? What happened when you met back up?”

“He’d already left, Y/N. It was clearly far too underwhelming for him. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like a little quiet. Some of us still have to earn our keep, you know.”

Not wanting to waste energy on a force as strong as Dutch, you busy yourself with chores. You feed the chickens, you feed the horses, you darn socks, all whilst watching the treeline. Even Miss Grimshaw’s fury cannot stir you away from the outskirts, and so by midday, with confidence in your position as most detested in camp, your decision proves easy.

“Kieran, do you have a spare saddle?”

The jittery head snapped up, gaping at you. “Going out, Miss?”

“To look for Arthur. I’ll be back, I promise.”

“You can’t go alone, Miss, especially not- not in your condition.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, no small feat with your lack of sleep. “I looked after myself before, and I can look after myself again.”

“Mr Morgan will kill me if anything were to happen to you.” He licks his lips, his hands wringing the corner of his jacket. “Lemme grab somebody to go with you-”

“Kieran I said I’m fine!”

“I- I- I can come. Jus’ gimme a minute to saddle up Branwen.” He’s itching with anxiety. “Shit, I don’t wanna think what Mr Van der Linde will do if we go off together.”

“Something wrong?” Charles watches you both closely as he pauses his stroll back from guard duty.

"Arthur’s not back yet. I’m going to look for him.”

His gaze slides over to Kieran, then shakes his head. “I’ll come with you. It’s best you stay here, Kieran - one missing O’Driscoll is less concerning than two.”

“A-Are you sure, Mr Smith?” The relief is palpable. “Then Y/N take Branwen. She’ll do you right.”

You try to keep your tics of impatience internalized whilst the men fix the horses. Hosea seems to be watching you in the distance. You almost believe he gives you a nod before acting as a distraction to Dutch, allowing you to lead Branwen out of camp behind Charles and Taima.

“Do you know where they met with them?”

You shake your head clear, digging your heels in to ride up alongside your companion. “The Heartlands, I think, but I don’t know the exact location. Can’t be further than Valentine.”

“I think you’re right about Valentine - there’s no real vantage point past Emerald Ranch. Dutch talked like Arthur was a surprise, so he would probably need a good hiding spot with a clear view.”

“Must be further out than Dewberry Creek… they wouldn’t have taken so long to get back.”

Charles hums in agreement. “Let’s head that way anyway and get up on a ridge. There’s a whisky tree with quite the view, might help us narrow our search.”

A long silence stretches between you. It would have been comfortable if it weren’t for the intrusive thoughts, the ghost of imaginary gunpowder tainting your nostrils, the burning images of Dutch’s boot crushing his outstretched fingers…

Just a dream.

You arrive at the summit and draw your binoculars, scouting the horizon, desperately trying to pick between each grain of dirt.

“I reckon we should take each of these points.” Charles gestures to each summit on the horizon. “If we take them one by one, we’re sure to overlap their meeting point, and maybe find some clues.”

You mumble in agreement, chewing on your lip as he focuses his strong brown gaze on you.

“Did Arthur say something about this to you?” he asks finally.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been on edge pretty much since they mounted up… Is everything alright between you?”

You laugh, albeit shakily, at the prospect of something coming between you. “We’re fine. I just keep having some real bad dreams and... “ You exhale loudly. “I’d feel better if I knew where he was.”

Charles nods and doesn’t press for details. He’s like Arthur that way - unwilling to speak unless necessary. You let the silence coddle you again as you descend and re-ascend another peak.

“Y/N!”

You hurry to him at the first syllable of your name, cursing the ache of your muscles slowing you down. Charles is crouched by the rocky edge, examining the ground closely.

“Reckon this could be our man?” he asks, gesturing at the disturbed dirt. Yes, you realise, it very well could be. The length of the disturbance was almost Arthur’s height - especially if he had rested on his elbows to watch over. You try to picture his broad shoulders and envisage the same broad distance.

Could there have been a scuffle? There’s not enough disturbance for him to have leaned back onto his knees and stood up - one of the arms is smudged, like he had rolled over. The inconsistencies in the outline… had he stood up and walked all over where he had been lying, or was someone else here?

Charles seems to share your doubts as he points out the multiple horse tracks. “Either this spot is popular with the locals, or there’s been a group here in the past couple of days.”

“Dutch and Micah split off earlier down the track - Arthur came up here alone.”

Charles hums again, fanning the panic in your gut. “Did they meet up again afterwards?”

“Did they hell!” you scowl. “Neither of them would tell me what happened after they parted ways.”

Charles sighs, mounting Taima gracefully. “The tracks seem to double down this way.”

You follow, enveloped again in the silence bar your thudding heart. At the bottom, you find an old camp. Charles decides it’s about a day old. You don’t really say much before spotting the blood not much further away. Alarm bells are ringing and you’re feeling faint.

I guess I saw you an’ the mess I might leave you in one day.

“Y/N?” Charles’ round face surfaces before your eyes, his forehead furrowing. “Are you alright? Here, I have some water…”

“They got him, didn’t they?” You can feel your stomach turning, but you haven’t eaten since they left the day before. “The blood - it’s Arthur’s, isn’t it?”

“Could be animal’s blood,” counters Charles calmly. “They might have set up camp nearby to save carrying the carcass.”

You try to stand, determined to keep searching, but Charles holds you down by your shoulder. “Rest. Kieran was right - Arthur won’t be happy if he finds you in this state.”

“Provided he comes back!” you argue, but you can feel the world spinning around you. As if already aware about your lack of sustenance, Charles pushes a bread roll into your hand, and you begin to eat wordlessly.

“Are you strong enough to ride?” he asks eventually.

You nod, brushing crumbs from your clothes as you look out towards the setting sun. “How far do you reckon they’ve got?”

“We’re going back to camp.” You whisk around ready to protest, but Charles steadies you easily. “Falling off your horse is one thing, but it’s completely different when you're carrying a child. I’ll come back for him, but for now let’s get you safe and pick up some reinforcements.”

You reluctantly agree, even if it’s just for the way your mind rattles as he helps you mount up. Charles rides close beside you, ready to grab you when you sway too precariously. The ride back is much slower than the ride out.

Hold on, Arthur. They’re coming.

#van der driscoll #rdr2 fic #rdr2 fanfic #kieran o'driscoll #red dead fic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #kieran duffy #meowdymista

[thiswasinevitableid]

21, Indruck (for the Mermay minifics)

Note: Duck’s design is based on a Grouper (aka one of the strongest fish) and Indrid’s is based on an Oarfish.

Every mer in Kepler Cove knows not to go near the strange lights. Lights that glow bright orange or deep purple, flicker gold to green or fade from blue to silver. But Duck is desperate. 

And so when night falls, and all sensible creatures are safe in their beds or dens or buried beneath the sand, he swims across the flat, empty patch of sand to the cave on the outskirts of town, green lights guiding his way tonight.

The house is cluttered with bottles and shells, with drawings and discarded pufferfish quills, and all around him the lights swirl. They’re solid when they bump him, but when he holds one in his hand, it isn’t an object his eyes understand.

It’s when he looks up to find two red lights, glowing more dimly than the others, staring him down that he remembers the warnings.

“Uh-”

“I am surprised to see you, Duck Newton. In most future, you decided on the prudent option and stayed far away.” The mer comes into view, his silvery tail, streaked with a red fin, matching his silver hair. The tail is much longer than Duck’s own, even though it ends in a standard fin. And he’s grinning. It’s not a Great White grin, but it doesn’t put Duck at ease. 

“You gonna make me regret it? And how do you know-”

‘Your name” The mer says along with him, “I can see the future. Or futures, I suppose, churning and changing, flitting in and out of view like sardines in a school.” He circles Duck slowly, his form long and lean next to Duck’s, which is built for power and unassuming in it’s mottled green, black and white. He remembers the stories of sea serpents, of mers with strange tails and angular faces who would lure the unsuspecting out into the deep trenches, never to be seen again.

“Then you know-”

“-why you are here? I can see it coming, but perhaps you would like to tell me yourself.”

“Do you know what’s been happenin to folks around here?”

“The plague? Yes. I...I tried to warn your predecessor that such a thing might come on the tides. He chose not to listen. And now you are here, a new chosen guardian, forced to bear the results of his disregarding me.” 

“There ain’t any record of you tellin him that.” Duck says cautiously. 

“Is there mention of someone called Indrid Cold?”

“Yeah, now that you mention it.”

The mer points to himself without another word, then swims to his wall and removes several drawings, the images evaporating as he does. 

“Oh. Uh, didn’t know that’s your name.”

“Of course not. Everyone calls me the witch. Or worse. And only the desperate would seek out a monster mer, and I watched the futures as you narrowed your options little by little until deciding on me. This spell” he catches a smaller light in his hand, “will produce a special plant that when ingested will cure those who are ill. But it will cost you.”

“Ah. You’re that kind of mer.” Duck crosses his arms with a roll of the eyes.

Indrid whirls, knocking lights aside as he hisses, “No, I am not. This is how magic of this caliber works. It cannot be given for nothing, no matter how much I wish I could do just that. I do not desire anything from my fellow creatures other than peace and respect, and yet I must demand a great deal to deliver what they ask of me. The choice is yours, Duck Newton; seek my help or do not, but do not act as though I am some predator laying in wait in the dark.” He flicks his tail dismissively, goes back to what must be his desk, fin tense as he waits for Duck to respond. 

Duck looks at the spell, “What’s the price?”

“Ask it.” Indrid sighs, jerking his tail towards the spell.

Duck gazes at the light, repeats the question, and gets a flash of two luminous red pearls. 

“Ah fuck, those only turn up in the oysters near the damn Nettle Eels.”

“Unfortunate.” Indrid continues drawing, back resolutely towards him, “if you decide to attempt it, bring the asked for items here. Only then can you release the spell.” His fin is limp now, his shoulders sag. 

“I’ll do my best. And, uh, Mr. Cold?”

“Indrid is fine.”

“I believe you. About it not bein’ your doin’.”

With that, he swims back to town. But as he glances over his shoulder, still not certain if Indrid is dangerous, the other man is watching him. When he notices Duck has turned to look at him, he lifts his hand in shy wave farewell.

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

“You still got that spell?”

Indrid turns, knowing what he’ll see yet smiling all the same when he does; Duck Newton, arms clearly stinging, with two red pearls in his hands. He retrieves the spell, takes the stones and places them with other items the magic has demanded. As soon as Duck touches the spell, the light bursts into a thousand little specks.

“It is done. The grove of plants should be ready by the time you return to your home.”

“Thank fuck.” Duck slumps against the wall. Then he holds out his hand.

Indrid cocks his head, perplexed. Duck makes an awkward sound in the back of his throat, hand returning to his side. 

“I just, uh, wanted to say thanks. For helpin’ me. Lotta people are gonna be alive because of you.”

“More would be if I had convinced your predecessor of the severity of the plague.”

“Hey now” Duck swims closer, and Indrid finds he has no instinct to back away, “he was a dipshit. Don’t gotta take the blame for that.” He holds out his hand again, and this time Indrid takes it, shaking it. Duck smiles when he does.

As the other man swims towards the exit, he pauses, “There was another spell, wasn’t there? One that woulda cured it without the plant step.”

Indrid swallows, “Yes.”

“What was the price?”

‘I believe it requires a stone from the valley surrounded by the mer-eating eels. The one, ah, almost no one returns from.”

“That’s what I thought. Thanks, Indrid. Thanks for lookin out for me.”

Indrid wishes he could curl his tail all the way around him so he no longer has to deal with the sensation of Duck looking at him with unfamiliar kindness. 

“You are welcome. If you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me.”

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

“Damn thing bit straight through my sword. Minerva’s too.”

Indrid examines the snapped metal, then begins swimming between the lights, “Do you think an increased offensive capability or a defensive one will be better for ridding the reef of the Giant Scorpionfish?”

“Ain’t sure, futures don’t happen to have any clues?”

Indrid pauses, tail waving lazily, then shakes his head, “it seems the two show about the same outcomes of success.”

“In that case, let’s go with somethin’ that’ll keep us safe while fightin it. Don’t really feel like havin some super-powerful weapon floatin around after this is done.”

Indrid picks a golden light from the air, hands it to Duck. This time, he doesn’t immediately move away, instead waits for him to learn the price. 

Duck shuts his eyes, gets an image of deep blue eggs. Then he shivers, Indrid’s tail having brushed along his by accident.

“Eagle Ray eggs. Do you think it wants all of ‘em? Seems kinda rude to take the whole nest.”

“Hmmmm, looking at the futures, it seems two or three will suffice.”

“Gotcha. It may think that’s some tricky quest, but I happen to know where a lot of different nests are around here. I’ll be back in an hour.”

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

“Got your message, you said a tidal storm was comin?”

“Yes, we have about five hours at maximum before it hits here. I already found the protection spell and learned the price, to expedite things. It wants a black pearl, a rare red sea flower, and gold from a sunken ship.” Indrid swims back and forth between drawings, erasing and recreating as the futures change.

“Fuck, okay. Uh, I’m allowed to have help, right?’

“Of course.”

“I’ll send Juno after the flower, Dani and Aubrey can help her. And Ned’s real good at findin gemstones in a hurry. I know there’s a wreck about a two mile swim thataway, but it’s been picked over.”

“I may be able to help; we can use my powers to locate the stray, remaining gold. Come, there is no time to lose.” He darts out of the cave and Duck follows him, watches the light glint off his scales, the way his body twists and speeds through the water.

Even if they fail, at least his last mission will have had a hell of a view.

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

“‘Drid, I was wonderin if you...uh, didn’t know you had pets.”

“I do not. Or, ah, I did not, The Eagle Ray eggs hatched. The spells almost never want animals, so it never occurred to me that the eggs would remain viable--AH! Careful with that, I know you are getting used to your wings but those are fragile. Anyway, what do you need?”

“Not a spell, but could you use your future vision to see if the issues with the Kelp fields are gonna lead to somethin bigger?’

“Why Duck, are you really giving me the honor of being an advisor to a Chosen?”

“ Damn right I am. Also that ray is chewin on your desk chair.”

“AH!”

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

“Hey ‘Drid, can I uh, um, I need some help.”

“Of course, let me just finish feeding Spot and Speckle their dinner. Is it a spell or a future?”

“Uh, it’s, uh, fuck, a, uh, spell? Yeah, a uh, fuck, spell. I need some help findin my, uh, fuck, keys? No, fuck, I mean-”

“You don’t have a reason for coming, do you.”

“Nope.”

“There is no need to lie about one. Wanting to visit is reason enough. You are welcome here any time, my friend.”

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

“Nice, ain’t it?”  Duck stretches out on the warm rock, sun soaking into his chest. 

“Mmmmmhmmm.” Indrid hums beside him, long tail draped off the edge and into the water. 

“You said you don’t come up here much.”

“I had some run-ins with sailors I tried to warn off oncoming disasters. I became a bit of a local legend, an omen of doom, and so decided it was best to lay low.” The words are detached, but Duck rolls over to find Indrid staring wistfully up at the sky, “I do enjoy it up here. I like watching the stars, seeing all the snippets of a new and different world. Some days I think I love the surface as much as I love home. Perhaps that is silly.” 

Duck rolls onto his side, “Ain’t nothin silly about lovin’ somethin’ incredible. I mean look” he points the forest, the tangle of green looking down on the shore from the hills, “look at that. How does it grow? What lives there? There’s so much to know about nature, up top and below.”

Indrid is on his side now as well, “Thank you. It is nice to know I am not alone. In, ah, in my thoughts, that is.” 

Duck reaches for his hand, and when Indrid scoots close enough to give it, Duck presses their tails together. Indrid sighs at the contact, and soon his tail is draped over Duck’s, his fingers tracing abstract patterns up and down Duck’s arm. 

“‘Drid? Would, uh, would you ever wanna maybe...move closer to town? I know Barclay’s been visitin more, Dani too. Seems like you’re startin to know more folks in town. There’s, uh, a house near mine that just opened up. We could be neighbors?” The note when his voice turns up at the end is steeped in vulnerable hope that he prays Indrid can’t hear. 

Red eyes regard him, “No, Duck. I do not think I could be. I am a solitary creature. The spells I help usher into the world and keep safe can be dangerous in their demands, attract dangerous beings in search of them. I ought to remain so, more for the sake of whoever wishes to be close to me than for my own.”

“But-”

“I need to return home. Farewell, Duck.” He slithers off the rock, and by the time Duck is in the water there’s only a flash of silver, disappearing into the darkness on the edge of town.

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

“Barclay, you seen ‘Drid lately?”

“Uh huh, saw him yesterday when I ran some food over. I wanted him to try my new red snapper wraps.”

“Oh. So he’s, uh, fine then?”

“Seems to be. Why?”

“The last few times I gone to see him, he ain’t been home. I’m worried I mighta done somethin’ to offend him.”

“Nah, I bet it’s just a run of bad timing. Indrid likes you more than anyone else on this reef.”

“...If I send someone else to get spells or info, he’s always there.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

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

“Mr. Cold, I am here on the utmost urgent business.”

“Hello to you too, Ned, and Indrid is fine. What is…” He sees the oncoming answer and blanches from top to tail with fear.

“Duck is ill?”

“He hasn’t been able to get out of bed for a week. Barely consumes food or drink. The lovely Dani took a look at him, but it does not seem to be an ailment know to her.”

“Show me the way to him. Please.” Indrid follows Ned, and the lights follow Indrid, his foresight not showing him enough to know which spell may be needed. They wind through town, whispers darting from house to house as they do.

The night is only made worse by what he discovers when he reaches Duck’s side.

“He is heartsick. That is why Dani was unable to find means of healing him. Only one exists.”

“One of your, like, spells?” Aubrey asks hopefully, red tail twitching with worry.

“No. It can only be cured with a kiss from one who loves him. Romantically, I should add, as the illness is brought on by a romantic love that one tries to repress or destroy. Do any of you know someone who loves Duck that way?”

All heads in the room shake. He sighs, “May I have a moment of privacy to think?”

When they’re alone, he strokes Duck’s brow, tail curling protectively around him without him truly meaning too.

Then he leans down and plants a single, tender kiss to Duck’s lips. 

Mismatched eyes flutter open.

“‘Oh thank goodness.”

“Fuck, whole body feels like I just got over the fin-pox.” Duck rolls his shoulders. Indrid realizes he hasn’t moved away from him, can’t bring himself to do so.

“‘Drid? Did, uh, did you just kiss me?”

“I, I did. I am sorry, it was the only-”

He’s yanked into the bed, one hand tangled in his hair as the other traps their hips together. Ducks tail flaps excitedly and Indrid’s curls around it as many times as he can. 

“I tried so fuckin hard, darlin, I thought you were angry with me, or that you were pushin me away for my own good, and as much as I missed you I didn’t wanna push you so I tried not to think about you, but, but I, I just started feelin’ sicker and sicker whenever I pushed thoughts of you away.

“Oh my, love, I am sorry. I only meant to keep you safe. I never meant to hurt you so.”

“It ain’t your doin’; I’m the dipshit who couldn’t tell you how I felt. I know you didn’t want to be with anyone-”

“-you are right, I thought it would be dangerous. But, well, in the last few weeks, I have realized that while my powers make for an oft-dangerous time, so does your position in the reef. And I, I missed you terribly. I want to be by your side, Duck Newton, if you will still have me.”

Duck runs a firm hand down his tail, grinning brighter than the lights still spinning around them, “You know, darlin, I think I’ll do just that.”

#indrid cold/duck newton #Indruck #mermaid au #mermay fills

[fanfoolishness]

a world for the birds (2/10)

Andy DeMayo took up birding years ago, but his favorite hobby takes on new meaning when shared with his nephew Steven.

A series of looks at Andy and Steven’s growing family relationship.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

 ***

Chapter 2: complicated

Andy tried not to get his hopes up too much.  After all, Steven was a teenager, and Andy himself had been in his late twenties before he’d really started paying attention to birds.  Just wasn’t an activity you saw a lot of kids doing.  Most of the people he ran into on his travels with binoculars were older than he was.

He tried to prepare himself for the inevitability of Steven having lost interest since last month, for him to cheerfully admit he hadn’t cracked open the Sibley’s at all and would rather go to the arcade or hang out with his friends.  And that would be okay, the kid gave it a shot and he didn’t like it, and that was still pretty good, right?

He was utterly dumbfounded to walk up the steps to the beach house and see Steven sitting there, binoculars around his neck, the Sibley’s flipped open to hawks.  “Uncle Andy!  I’m glad you’re here.  Is that an osprey?”  Steven pulled off his binoculars and handed them to Andy, pointing out a ways beyond the surf.

It took him a moment to adjust Steven’s binoculars, but Andy grinned once he got the bird in sights.  The osprey hovered above the waves, white wings with black patches stretched wide, large keen eyes in a clever face watching for signs of fish below.  “Sure is.  You really been keeping up with this stuff?  I mean, you don’t have to if it’s not your thing.”

Steven smiled up at him.  “Well -- I mean, it’s something you really like, right?  And it’s something we can do together.  I dunno, I think that’s cool.  I love playing music with my dad, or helping the Gems build Little Homeschool, or training with Connie -- it’s something you and me can share.  And it’s fun.  I always thought animals were really cool, but I’m really getting into the life list thing.  Like collecting G.U.Y.S. and G.A.L.S. toys, but real.”

“Yeah, that makes sense, kid.  I think,” said Andy.  “Huh.  You’re a very positive person, you know that?”

Steven laughed.  “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“So what’s this Little Homeschool thing?  You guys building something?”

Steven looked guilty for a second, a furtive wince.  “You remember Garnet's wedding?"

"I remember runnin' for my life when a spaceship showed up," Andy snorted.  "Yeah."

"You know we lost the barn then, right?”

"Nah, I just got outta there as fast as I could.  Didn't get a chance to reconnect with your dad until weeks after that."  Andy sighed, gnawing on his bottom lip with his teeth.  “I did notice it wasn’t there the last few times I’ve flown out this way.  Meant to ask about it at the wedding, actually, but something distracted me... don't remember what...."

"Aw, come on, Uncle Andy," Steven said, raising his eyebrows.

"So what happened to it?  Some magic stuff?”

“Yeah… my friend Lapis kinda ran off with it to the moon, then she dropped it on one of my Mom’s relatives.   They're the ones who were attacking us at the wedding.  The barn didn’t make it,” said Steven, looking sheepish.

“I don’t even wanna know how she took it to the moon.  The actual moon?  I mean, I know your space family, y’know, comes from space, but I thought they used spaceships and stuff. Not barns.”  Andy shook his head.  He had to figure out how to stop being surprised by the stuff that came out of this kid’s mouth.

“She has water powers and can fly,” said Steven matter-of-factly.  “Gems don’t need to breathe in space, so all she had to do was surround the barn with water and fly it up there --”

“Yeah, when you put it like that, it sounds so easy,” Andy chuckled.

“I know it’s weird,” said Steven in a rush.  “Who just flies off with a barn to the moon, right?  But anyway, since the barn didn’t survive the fight we had with my mom’s relatives, the land was free.  There’s a lot more Gems living on Earth than there used to be -- I mean, it’s complicated, but that’s the gist of it -- and they needed somewhere to live.  So they’ve started building a little colony near Beach City.  Mayor Nanefua did some complicated government stuff to make it all legal and it’s going really well.  We could go on a tour, if you want --”

Andy didn’t know why his chest felt so heavy so suddenly.  He’d known the barn was gone for a few months, didn’t know what had happened, but knew it had to be something related to the blue and green ladies that lived there.  He’d already made his peace with that.  So why did Steven’s explanation make him feel a little bit like crap?  He thought of his mom and dad tinkering in the barn, the smell of grease and metal, summers with Greg and the other cousins running around in the fields, and he blinked hard.

“Are you okay, Uncle Andy?” asked Steven uncertainly.  “Maybe we should have asked you first--”

“Nah, it’s fine,” said Andy.  And it was, or at least, it would be.  “I don’t have a lotta time this visit, but maybe next time we could go check it out.”  He shrugged.  “Why are there more Gems now?”

“Oh!  Well, there actually were a lot of Gems on Earth, but they were corrupted -- jeez, how do I explain that -- they were sick and that made them act really weird and look like monsters.  They didn’t know who they were.  But the Diamonds and I -- my mom’s relatives -- we healed them.  They’re just like Garnet and Amethyst and Pearl now.”  He considered.  “Okay, maybe not exactly.  They still look a little different and they lost thousands of years of memories, but they’re trying the best they can to get back into a normal life…”  His voice trailed off.

Andy stared, raising an eyebrow.  “That sounds, uh, intense.”

Steven held his hands out, shrugging.  “I guess it kind of does.”

“Why’d your mom’s folks help you with that?  I thought you guys were fighting so bad you dropped the barn on them.”  Andy leaned back against the railing, crossing his arms.

“I mean, that was Lapis, not me,” said Steven, laughing, but the sound seemed forced.  “It’s, uh,  really complicated.  They didn’t know I had my mom’s gem yet, and then when they did they didn’t realize that I wasn’t her just shapeshifting, and we -- they -- um, the important thing is they came around.  Eventually.”  His hand dug into his shirt over his stomach, like it hurt him.  

“I don’t know what any of that means,” Andy admitted.  “But family’s complicated.  Sometimes it ain’t easy, dealing with them.  You know?”

“Yes,” Steven said in relief.  “Yeah, that, exactly.”  He let out a long, shaky breath, lowering his hand and resting it in his lap.

Andy gave the kid a worried look.  He didn’t like how he’d looked almost… scared, talking about his mom’s family like that.

“So,” he said brightly, changing the subject, “you still wanna check out some summer birds?  Thought maybe we could find some nests around the woods.  It’s a good time for it.”

“Sure!” said Steven.  He scrambled to his feet and leapt in the air over the edge of the deck, and before Andy could cry out, he floated gracefully to the ground.  Oh, yeah.  The floating thing.  Andy knocked a fist against his chest, trying to fight back against the burst of adrenaline that had flooded through him a second ago.  Phew.

He took the long way down, bringing Steven’s binoculars with him, holding the handrail down the stairs, careful not to slip.

***

“Uncle Andy!  What’s this little fella?” Steven asked in a whisper, staring hard at a bird a few feet away, perched boldly on a log in the open.

Andy glanced at the bird, neat gray body, jaunty black cap, rusty rump.  “Gray catbird,” he said softly.  “They’re close to mockingbirds.  Not nearly as good as mimicking as they are, but they do their best.  Mostly they just meow.  Mew, mew. ”  The catbird flicked its tail, cocking its head at them.

“That is adorable!” Steven squealed.  “Aww, hey there, little buddy.”  The bird hopped off of the log, strutting around in the loam, bold as you please.  “I like this one.”

“They’re pretty common.  You’ll see ‘em all over.  Even in cities and towns.  The only place you don’t really see ‘em is out west.”

They watched the catbird for a moment before it flew off into the trees.  “You said they can mimic things?”

“The mockingbird’s the best at it,” said Andy.  “How do you think it got the name?  The males’ll sing anything they think might get a female’s attention.  They can sound like hawks, jays, shoot, I’ve even heard them sing car alarm songs in Southland City.”

“It’s kind of like shapeshifting, but for birds,” said Steven.  “That’s pretty cool.”

“Steven,” said Andy seriously, “all birds are pretty cool.”

“Ha, of course, Uncle Andy.”

***

(Bird photos from the Cornell Lab's All About Birds site.)

#steven universe #steven universe future #andy demayo #uncle andy #uncle andy su #fanfoolishness' steven universe fic #a world for the birds fic

[legendofzeldaalinktothepast]

Opalescent Tides - Chapter 7

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter 

As she waited for Pearl to show up, Amethyst sat at a picnic table and drew shapes in the sand with her bare feet. The air grew cooler, and the shimmering sun descended over the ocean. Amethyst rubbed her bare arms and felt goosebumps on her skin; she wished she'd brought along a jacket.

"Good evening, Amethyst!" 

Amethyst perked up and met a very familiar pair of baby blue eyes. "Oh, hey!" she greeted in response. She pulled herself to her feet and made her way towards Pearl, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jean shorts. "You ready for our little nighttime stroll?"

"I sure am." Pearl smiled warmly. She reached into the brown and black checkered bag hanging from her shoulder, grabbing a little bottle and pouring a fragrant pinkish-white substance onto her palms. Noticing Amethyst's curious expression, she offered the bottle over. "Do you want some lotion?"

"Ah, sure?" Amethyst said, though she had no idea what purpose it served. She cringed as Pearl squeezed some of the "lotion" onto her palms, and cautiously rubbed it in in the same manner Pearl had done. It smelled... fruity and floral, but she wasn't sure if she liked it.

"So... what goes on in Pearl world?" Amethyst asked; they'd spent a few moments walking together in silence, save for the sound of lapping waves, and she could sense Pearl's unease. It was clear she had something specific in mind she wanted to talk about.

"Ah... Quite a few things, actually." Pearl laughed nervously, a slight blush spreading across her cheeks. "Running a business can be a bit overwhelming... Thank goodness I'm not doing it alone, at least." she said.

"Yeah, sounds like it'd be a pain in the ass sometimes. I'd never be able to do something like that..." Amethyst said. "You ever get shitty customers? Aside from me, obviously."

Pearl chuckled. "Oh, please. I'm over that little incident by now." she said. "But aside from that, not very often... It is a tourist town, so it's inevitable that we'll get a few unpleasant folks here and there... But for the most part, customers are fairly pleasant..." She fidgeted with a button on her shirt as she spoke, keeping her gaze lowered.

"Well, that's good." Amethyst said. Damn, did she hate small talk... But when it was with a cute girl, it wasn't quite as bad.

"And..." Pearl continued, taking a deep breath. "I have something I need to get off my chest. Are you good at keeping secrets?"

The right answer to that was a big "hell no", but Amethyst's curiosity overpowered any shrivel of desire she had to be honest. "Totally."

Pearl smiled gratefully. "Perfect." she said, taking a deep breath and a long pause before she continued. "I... I've never fully trusted my own mind. Only Garnet knows this, but... I can't remember anything from before my twentieth birthday."

Amethyst's heart sank.

"According to Garnet, I had some sort of accident a little while after I turned twenty... Someone found me on the beach, unconscious. Nobody's really sure what happened to me; I didn't have any injuries, at least according to my doctors, so they're not sure why it happened, but... Whatever happened gave me permanent amnesia." Pearl sighed. "I don't really... have any contact with my family, so Garnet was the one who helped me through it. Over these past nine years, I've created new memories, reformed my relationships, but... For whatever reason, anything before the year 1986 is just... blank. I haven't been able to recover them, no matter how hard I try, or how much Garnet tells me, it just never sticks."

Her heart racing, Amethyst struggled to respond. She placed a comforting hand on Pearl's shoulder, thinking back to the night she woke up on the beach earlier that month... 'It can't be a coincidence... Something is up, and it involves both of us.' "Damn..." she finally responded. "I'm sorry, girlie. That sounds like it must've been hard..."

Pearl smiled softly. "Well, it's all in the past, now. No need to be sorry about it." She shrugged, biting her lip. "The only thing that really scares me is... Not being able to trust my own brain." Pearl continued. "Sometimes I... I struggle to fall asleep at night, worrying that I'll wake up and it'll happen again. And... and sometimes my mind plays tricks on me. A few weeks ago..." Pearl paused to swallow a lump in her throat. "I-I saw something that wasn't real. Garnet assured me that the heat was just getting to my head, and perhaps she was right, but... i-it was something involving you. So... that's why I've been so strange around you. It just... keeps reminding me of that night, of feeling like I can't trust myself, of feeling like I'm..." Her voice cracked, and she cupped a hand over her mouth.

Amethyst reached for Pearl's free hand and squeezed it tight. "Pearl..." she began, but she wasn't sure how to continue that sentence. Guilt tore at her chest; of all the people that could've found her in that pool, it had to be Pearl... Why couldn't it have been Rose? At least she wouldn't have reacted like this...

Tears flowed down Pearl's cheeks, and she pulled her other hand away from Amethyst's and wiped them away. "I'm sorry, I-I'm such a mess..." she whimpered.

"No, no, it's fine! Look, I..." Amethyst spoke again, unsure of where to go with this -- but she had to say something. The silence was killing her. "Listen, I'm not a... psychologist, is that the word? I don't know how brains work, you know? But... I think it's safe to say that you're gonna be okay. If you lose your memory again, you can just... start from scratch like you did before, right? You did it once, you could probably do it again..."

Pearl burst into tears. 'Shit. Maybe shouldn't have said that.' Amethyst thought, blushing.

"Trust me, I've thought of that many times before..." Pearl reached into her purse for a handkerchief, wiping her running nose. "But... I don't think you understand, Amethyst... It took so long to learn how to function on my own again... And on top of that, I just... worry that I can't trust my own mind. I've never hallucinated like that before... What if I go insane? What if I can't trust myself, and Garnet can't trust me? What if -- "

"Pearl, shh..." Amethyst cupped a hand over Pearl's mouth before she could go on any longer. "Just... Breathe for a minute before you say anything else. You're thinking way too much."

Pearl nudged Amethyst's hand away once more; the latter blushed, realizing she'd done the same thing not a minute ago. "Don't worry, my hands are clean, heh... Washed 'em before I came here."

Pearl smiled a little at that. She adjusted her purse, turning toward the horizon of the ocean. "It's alright... Perhaps you have a point, after all... I'm sorry for unpacking all of this on you."

"Don't be." Amethyst said.

Another silence lay between the two as they stood together, watching the sun finish its journey into the horizon. Amethyst caught a glimpse of the moon hanging up in the deepening blue sky; waning gibbous.

She glanced over towards Pearl again; a smile remained on her face, but Amethyst could sense that beneath the exterior... She was still terrified, and she didn't know how to handle it... Amethyst's heart raced as an idea crossed her mind -- it was stupid, and incredibly dangerous, but... If there was anything she could do about it, she wasn't going to let Pearl continue feeling this way.

"I think I know something that might help." Amethyst finally spoke up, causing Pearl to flinch.

"Oh?" She tilted her head in curiosity.

"I can't do it tonight. It'll... take a few days." Amethyst said. "This weekend, let's meet up again. Well, not here." She gestured towards the patch of trees nearby. "There's a little section of the beach just past those trees. Nobody ever goes there, at least that I know of, and well..." she trailed off as she realized just how suspicious that sounded. "We need to be alone. Well, mostly alone, anyway. I understand that sounds kinda shady, so if you want, you can bring Garnet along." She regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth; spilling her secret to one human was enough, but telling two was just asking for trouble.

Pearl looked uncertain, and for a moment, Amethyst feared she'd still say no. But after a bit of hesitation, she responded. "Alright." she said, fidgeting with her purse. "I'm... skeptical, but I'll take your word for it. Is Saturday alright?"

"Saturday is perfect.” 

* 

Once Amethyst made her way back to the house, she was met with Rose sitting on the couch, stirring a cup of steaming tea.

"You were out late tonight." she remarked with a slightly concerned smile, taking a sip. "What were you up to? Hopefully keeping safe?"

"Oh, just... taking a walk with Pearl. And no, we weren't approached by any weird strangers this time, heh." Amethyst ran her fingers through her hair, making her way towards the stairs.

"Ah, alright." Rose nodded, setting her cup down on a coaster. "Make sure you're home early this Saturday, though. It's going to be a full moon, so it's important that you and Steven are safe."

Amethyst froze. Her instincts were telling her to just nod along and continue on her way upstairs, but... Her guilt got the best of her. "Oh, yeah..." Amethyst slowly turned around; in all honesty, she wasn't sure how Rose would react to her plans for this weekend. "About that..."

Rose glanced back from her place on the couch. "Hm?"

"So, uh... while I was out with Pearl today..." Amethyst walked over and sat down on the other end of the couch, fidgeting with the bottom of her skirt. "I kinda... Told her to meet up with me this weekend."

Rose chuckled. "You already forgot the full moon was coming?"

"No, no, I didn't. That's the thing." Amethyst continued. Rose's expression fell as she took another sip of tea; she wasn't angry, though, at least it didn't look like it… She seemed more confused than anything. "I, uh... Look, it's a long story, but…” Amethyst continued, “I think I want to tell her the truth."

Rose choked on her tea. She set her cup aside to cough, and Amethyst reluctantly patted her on the back. Once she recovered, she looked at Amethyst with a bewildered expression. "Um… I don't think that's going to happen." she finally said, clearing her throat.

"Look… I get why you're not thrilled about this." Amethyst began, "I'll leave you and Steven both out of it, I promise. But I really think I need to tell her; I think she might --"

"Except you can't leave us out of it." Rose narrowed her eyes. "Because if anyone finds out you're a mermaid, they'll start to question the people you've been living with. Do you realize what could happen to Steven if the wrong person finds out?"

"I... I mean, yeah." Amethyst sighed. "But... I dunno, Pearl's been really shaken up by this whole thing. Maybe you haven't noticed it yourself, but... She told me she's been really doubting her own brain after she... saw me. It's been really fucking her up... So I thought maybe... If I showed her that it wasn't all in her head, she'd feel a little better?"

"Amethyst..." Rose let out a sigh and rubbed her face. She went silent for a few moments, as if to ponder her words before she spoke again... Amethyst's gaze fell down to the floor. Her heart ached with guilt... but at the same time, she didn't want Pearl feeling like this if there was anything she could do about it.

"Pearl can recover from this..." Rose began, lifting her head from her hands. "But if the wrong person finds out about you, or me, or God forbid Steven... it could cost us our lives. Are you really willing to risk that for Pearl's feelings?"

"I mean..." Amethyst let out a sigh. "I don't have anything to lose. I still have no fucking clue why I'm even here."

"Maybe not, but I do." Rose said. "And if she finds out about you, it will affect all of us. This isn't about you. Do not tell her, Amethyst. Please." She reached for Amethyst's hands and squeezed them tight. "Don't leave the house on Saturday no matter what. Not for me, but for Steven."

Amethyst drew in a deep breath. 'There's no way I'll convince her...' she thought, refusing to look Rose in the eyes. Part of her knew, deep down, that Rose was right... And yet that selfish inkling of hope lingered right beside it, praying that her secret would be safe in Pearl’s hands... Or maybe that Pearl, too, was someone like them.

"Alright... Fine." Amethyst pulled her hands away. "I'll... tell her that we’ll go for our walk on Sunday instead." She refused to meet Rose's eyes.

Rose let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Amethyst." she said, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I hope you understand… I promise I’m not trying to control you. I just want all of us to be safe... You understand that, right?"

"Yeah, yeah." Amethyst waved a hand dismissively. "Don't sweat it. Your house, your rules.” 

* 

Saturday had come; the sun still high in the sky, Rose had ensured that Steven and Amethyst were home for the night long before it would get dark. All doors were locked, a kiddy pool filled with water was set up in Steven's room, and the bath tub was filling up with warm water for Amethyst.

"Do you wanna rubber ducky?" Steven asked as Amethyst sat on the bathroom floor, watching the bath tub fill up with water.

"Huh?" Amethyst said, turning to him and spotting the duck-shaped toy in his hand. "Uh, sure, why not."

"Are you excited?" Steven sat down beside her and grinned. He placed the rubber duck in the water, giving it a nudge so it'd float across the tub. "I love transforming! It was scary when I was little, but now it's a lot of fun!"

"Really? It hurt like a bitch last time. I'm guessing it gets better?" Amethyst said, dipping her fingers into the water and swirling it around. She glanced up towards the clock on the wall; it was getting close to eight... Pearl was probably already at the beach.

"Yeah, it does. I started transforming when I was still a baby, so I don't even remember if it hurt." Steven said.

"Well, that's good. Maybe it won't be as awful this time around." Amethyst snorted.

A silence fell between the two; Amethyst glanced over at Steven, wondering why he was still sitting there.

"So, um..." Steven fidgeted once he noticed Amethyst was staring at him. "What's your favorite color? Mine's pink!"

Amethyst bit her lip. Had Rose sent him in here to keep her from sneaking out? "Purple." she finally said. "Hey, speaking of purple stuff, you wanna do me a favor?"

"Sure!" Steven grinned.

"Can you get me a popsicle from the freezer? You know which color I want." she said with a wink.

"On it, ma'am!" Steven jumped to his feet, scampering out of the bathroom and down the hallway.

'Finally.' Amethyst let out a sigh of relief. Cracking her knuckles, she pushed the bathroom window open and lifted herself up onto the windowsill with a grunt.

"Hey Amethyst, we're all outta purple!" Steven called from across the house.

"Keep looking! I know I saw one this morning!" she called back, climbing down onto the grass.

"Okaayyy..." Steven said in his I-don't-believe-you tone. It would keep him busy for another few moments, though, and that was what mattered; once she had both feet on the ground, Amethyst turned and hurried through the backyard and towards the fence.

With each step she took, though, her guilt rose up in her chest, forming a nervous lump in her throat... 'Rose is gonna be so pissed...' she thought with a gulp. As she reached the fence and began to climb over, she almost wished Rose would step outside and catch her red-handed... And deep down, she knew that what she was doing was selfish. But then she remembered Pearl, and her heart raced in her chest, and she pushed herself forward.

[lilacmoon83]

Have Yourself a Charming Little Christmas

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Christmas Eve Vows

It began as just an innocent Christmas shopping trip to New York a few days before the holiday and ended with a bit of a scare and Emma would swear that her parents were a pair of danger magnets. They happened to walk past an alleyway on the busy New York streets and caught sight of an older couple being mugged at knife point. While most people either didn't notice, others suffered from the paralysis of their own fear. But not her parents and she wasn't surprised when they stepped in. She could have killed them both herself in the end for putting themselves in danger. Her father tackled the mugger, but not before he had tried to take a swipe at her mother, at which point he had jumped in front of her and got swiped. He subdued the attacker and the frightened older couple thanked her parents profusely for stepping in.

The cut from the knife really wasn't that bad, but the cop insisted they go to the nearest hospital to get it treated.

"Snow...I'm fine. This isn't necessary. I've had way worse," he complained, as they sat in the waiting room.

"David...you're getting it checked out. You might need a couple stitches," she fussed. He was called back and Snow went with him. Emma wanted to, but convincing them she was their daughter would be impossible.

But that wouldn't be the only unforeseen complication.

"Mr. Nolan...I'm doctor Miller. I'm afraid while I treat you, I'm going to have to ask her to leave," he stated.

"But she's my wife," David replied. The doctor looked confused and back to his chart.

"These records we pulled from the hospital in your home town list you as divorced...from a Kathryn Nolan. Your chart says you're single and I'm afraid only family can be in the room while you're treated," he replied. Snow and David were stunned, but it made sense. With all the craziness and curses, his medical records had never been properly updated and hers probably hadn't for that matter either. It was just an understanding in their town since the curse had broken that they were husband and wife. In Storybrooke, they were Snow and Charming, true loves and married. It had never once occurred to them in the Land Without Magic, their records might still be from the first curse and that to the world outside Storybrooke...they weren't considered married. It was a punch to the gut for them both. Being married to each other and having a family together was all they had ever wanted. To not have such recognized in this land was devastating.

He couldn't get out of the exam room fast enough after being treated and burst into the waiting room, quickly finding her and enfolding into a fierce hug.

"I'm sorry...I had no idea your medical records still listed you both as single. It never occurred to me to change them," Regina apologized.

"It's not your fault. We had no idea this would ever be a problem," David said.

"It never once occurred to me that to the outside world, I'm still Mary Margaret Blanchard," Snow said, a little stunned. He looked at her and took her hands in his own.

"Then let's fix it," he said.

"What?" she asked.

"This land says we need a piece of paper that says we're married so let's get that. It will be like a vow renewal for us and make us officially married in this land," he suggested.

"David...are you asking me what I think you're asking?" she asked, as her half heart fluttered in her chest.

"Will you marry me again?" he asked. She beamed and threw her arms around him.

"What do you think?" she gushed, as he picked her up and spun her around.

"Are you two seriously going to get married for a third time?" Emma asked.

"I know you think we're crazy, Em. But I never want there to be a shred of doubt that this woman is my wife," he replied. Emma rolled her eyes, but smiled warmly at her parents. Leave it to them to run to the altar for a third time.

"You think Archie will agree to marry us?" she asked.

"I'm sure he will. We just need to tell him when," he replied, as they joined hands and followed Regina and Emma out of the hospital. That's when Snow got an idea and looked at him excitedly.

"I know the perfect day...but you're going to think I'm crazy," Snow said.

"Too late...we already do," Regina quipped.

Christmas Eve

Snow looked at her reflection in the full length mirror. Her dress was simple and elegant, a mix of white satin and lace, with a sweetheart neckline and knee length, with long lacy sleeves. A single strand of pearls adorned her slender neck and even though she was already married, she was still giddy.

"Wow…" she heard his voice from behind her and turned to do some admiring herself. He was clad in sleek black slacks, a crisp white shirt, and a black blazer. His collar was open though, no tie or bow tie and he looked roguishly handsome, as always. In fact, with their son in his arms, he looked downright hot.

"Wow yourself," she said, as he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately and then she kissed Neal on his head.

"You know, the groom isn't supposed to see the bride before the wedding," she chided breathlessly. He could only kiss her again in response.

"Good thing you're already my wife then, not that we've ever paid much attention to tradition anyway," he replied.

"Come on you two. You have to have a wedding before you have a wedding night," Regina called.

"Don't say wedding night...there are just things a daughter doesn't want to think about," Emma complained. Snow and David shared a secret smile, as they followed them out of the farmhouse. They had chosen a very special place to renew their vows.

A white archway was erected at the entrance to the bridge and it was decorated with Christmas garland and holly flowers. And of course white snow drop petals littered the ground. Regina had even magicked in a fully decorated and lit Christmas tree.

Archie awaited them at the center of the archway with a bright smile.

Attendance was family and close friends, including all seven dwarves. The Mills sisters of course were in attendance with little Robin and the Golds with Gideon. Emma held her baby brother and stood at the altar with her father. It was a small, intimate affair, just the way they wanted it. He was then captivated by the woman he loved, slowly approaching. Emma had fashioned a crown made of snow bells and had placed it on her head as a last minute addition and as always, she took his breath away.

As she arrived at the altar, Emma took her flowers and they joined hands.

"It is with great honor that I preside over this renewal of marriage vows tonight for a couple that is the absolute epitome of true love. But it's much better said from the two that share this incredible love with a renewal of vows," Archie stated.

"When that doctor said you weren't my wife, it threw me for a loop. Because since the moment I met you...being your husband is all I ever wanted. The love we share...it goes so beyond a piece of paper. But twice before, I've vowed to love you eternally and I have no problem vowing it again. I love you Snow White...Mary Margaret Blanchard and I will in any life we find ourselves in for eternity," he said, as a few tears slipped down her cheeks and he reached up to brush them away.

"There was a time when I technically wasn't your wife...and it was lonely and I felt like I was just sleepwalking through my life. There were days I felt like I was nothing. But then I found you again and it was like waking up finally. And I'm not going to lie, when that doctor suggested I wasn't your wife, I wanted to deck him," she said, earning chuckles from around them.

"But in all seriousness, if it's a piece of paper they want, then that's what they'll have, because I vowed to love you eternally twice before, so what's a third? I love you Charming, my Charming...David Nolan and I will in any life we find ourselves in for eternity," she replied.

"Well, there is certainly no doubt that we are in the presence of quite possibly the truest love any realm has ever seen. So without further ado, I pronounce you husband and wife, now of two realms. You may kiss your bride," he prompted to David, who pulled her close and captured her lips in his own, cradling her face, as their lips moved together passionately. Cheers erupted from their friends and their lips parted. They smiled and hugged Emma and Neal between them, who also wore the biggest smile.

"Merry Christmas Charming," Snow said.

"Merry Christmas, my darling Snow," he replied, as their lips met once again...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #romance #family #Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays

[theawkwardterrier]

things left behind and the things that are ahead, ch. 10

AO3 link here

Drea is the only one of his kids who Steve successfully gets into baseball. Rosie at age six tells him seriously that she has other, more important things to do than watch grownup men get excited about a ball, Em sits patiently through a couple of games that she clearly has no interest in, and Nate, when offered a chance to visit the ballpark for the first time at five years old says, "If you would be happy about it," in such a sweet, guileless way that Steve chokes up and tells him right away to forget about it. (Peggy is only too happy to have him look for someone else to bring - while she knows the rules by now and has watched a few games herself, he thinks that she'd have happily abdicated her seat to any passerby who wanted it. It's fine: she once tried to explain the rules of cricket, and he thinks he might still be comatose.)

But Drea loves it enough for all the rest of them, collecting cards, scanning the sports section each morning as the season approaches, and talking statistics like they're her second language. Nothing much has changed for her since they moved to Maryland: she has a group of boys to trade cards with, her best friends even as she enters junior high, and she's still a solid early choice in a schoolyard or street pickup game.

Steve's too cheap to shell out for Orioles season tickets - they live closer to DC, so getting to Baltimore is less convenient especially for weeknight games, but he's pretty sure that Washington loses their team sometime soon and he doesn't want his daughter getting attached and going through the same heartbreak he did - but he makes sure to take her to a few games a season, just the two of them.

It's a beautiful May Sunday, and the Orioles have just absolutely trounced Kansas City. Steve tosses their hot dog wrappers in the trash on the way out - four of his, one of Drea's - and wraps his arm around her, kissing the top of her baseball cap-covered head as they join the chattering crowd on the way back to their car.

"That was a great game," he says. "I think the O's have a good chance of making the series this year, huh?"

"I'm not very much like other girls, am I?"

It's more momentum than anything that keeps Steve walking. "What do you mean?" he asks carefully, looking down at her. The brim of her cap blocks him from seeing her face, but her shoulders hunch a little under his hand.

"I'm not like Mom," she says. "Or like Emma."

"Well that’s good, because I don't know if I could handle two Emmas. We'd never be able to finish all the desserts." Steve jokes. "And it would be a pretty big coincidence if you were like Mom." Everyone in town is used to the Carters by now, but when they had moved down from New Jersey five years ago, the variation in looks between the children and their lack of similarity to either parent had brought reactions ranging from pity to outright disdain.

"That's not what I mean." Drea starts to walk a little faster, even knowing that her dad can keep up. Her words come out in small, breathless bursts, and Steve aches a little at the bravery it is taking her just to keep speaking them. "It’s just...they know about girl stuff. Mom knows when to wear fancy gloves and pearls and it never looks weird, and Emmy just knows how to talk with other girls. They understand everything without even trying. They like this stuff. The only stuff I like is boy stuff."

"Hey," he says, pulling her to the side of the crowd so he can stop and bend to face her. He peers into the shadow beneath her ball cap, finding her jewel-dark blue eyes. "You're a girl. Anything you like is girl stuff."

She turns away from him. "Yeah, okay."

"I know that Em is a certain kind of girl—" Emma has already requested her own set of mixing bowls for Christmas. Practically the only time she wears pants is in the garden. She used to spend entire afternoons pouring “tea” for a dozen dolls and stuffed animals, signing politely to them as she sipped with an extended pinky. "But your mom put up with a lot during the war, and even now there are plenty of people who say that she isn't doing the things a woman should do. And what about Rosie? She doesn’t exactly fit into a box."

"It's different for me than it is for Rosie." That she says it simply, without a sigh or a teenage eyeroll, makes him sad. Even sadder than that: she's right. As much as he doesn't want it to be, it is different for her than it is for Rose, or Emma, or even Peggy.

"Okay," he says. "You're different than some girls. But that doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong. And I would hate for you to change the way you are or the things you love just because you felt that you had to fit in.” He tries to smile. “Besides, Bucky and the family are coming to visit over the summer and I promised them a good time, which means a trip to the ballpark with the two of us."

This time she does sigh, a tiny hiccup of not being entirely understood or at least of realizing that her father can't fix everything for her. "Yeah," she says again. "Okay."

Steve stands to his full height once again and hugs her against his side for a moment. He and Peggy have changed a lot, but there are some things even more stubborn than they are.

Tonight was supposed to be a date night with Steve, but there’s been a new FBI head for three, nearly four years now, and Peggy is only just getting around to inviting him and his wife for a collegial dinner engagement. Steve very sweetly said that he doesn't mind any of the time that he gets to spend with her, but she knows that this isn't exactly his idea of an enjoyable evening out. She'll have to remember to make it up to him.

"Which one?" she asks Drea, holding three dress options in front of herself. There's a deep, vivid scarlet number, a classic flared black, and a black and aubergine paneled silk with the tags still on.

Drea considers. "The red. Daddy likes it when you wear red."

"So he does." She strips off her robe and leaves it on the back of the chair as she slides the dress over her head, moving to the mirror to do up the last of the zip and smooth it over her hips. Peggy keeps herself fairly trim, but it's been a while since she wore this particular dress, and one never knows how things might have changed.

In the glass, she glimpses Drea, her black hair tangled and wild around her shoulders as always, her knees tented as she tucks nearly her whole narrow body into the white T-shirt she's wearing: one of Steve's undershirts, no doubt. Drea practically lives in them as it gets warmer. If it were prior to Lula-Cat's escape of the previous summer, the beast would surely be purring on the bed beside her favorite Carter, allowing herself to be petted as she got fur all over Peggy's clean pillowcases.

She is almost fourteen, Peggy realizes with a pang, and not only because her children are growing up even more quickly than she had expected. They will have another year of people plausibly believing her to be a late bloomer, perhaps not even that. She, Steve, Drea and her doctor have an appointment soon for a discussion, and Peggy makes a note to sit down Howard with as well. The little tools he's made for Emma - the vibrating clip for her swimsuit for when they go to the beach, the egg timer with its flashing lights - have been helpful, but the things he could make for Drea might be lifesaving.

As she moves to the vanity and fixes her face, traces on her vividly red lipstick with a practiced hand, thinks for a moment and adds pearl earrings and a simple crystal necklace which Steve gave her for their fifteenth anniversary, she fights to keep both the fear and calculation from her face. Drea already looks melancholy enough.

Peggy sits at the edge of the bed to put on her hose and her pumps. She is just about to get up and take in the final product when Drea says from beside her, "Mom, can you teach me how to put on makeup?"

Peggy pauses for just a moment, then asks, "What brought this on?" She allows only a tiny amount of surprise into her voice. It would be unbelievable otherwise, but the true amount of shock she feels at the question would be insulting, would drive her daughter away.

"Some girls at school are starting to use it. And I—" Her voice falters a bit, then comes back stronger, perhaps too strong, as if she's given herself a stern lecture. "I think I should also know how."

"I think you're a bit young for it, and I'm not sure that 'because everyone else is doing it' is a particularly good reason," says Peggy, continuing over the beginning of Drea's protestations. "But if that's what you truly want, I can certainly give you a lesson or two." She sighs, perhaps a bit theatrically. "Goodness knows I'd have liked for Rosie to ask before she made her first attempts."

It works. Drea laughs a little, remembering Rose's early experiments with cheap drugstore eye makeup and vending machine lip color in a particularly revolting shade of tangerine that gave her a rash.

Peggy stands, smoothing her dress one final time and going over to the closet. She takes out a handbag, and riffles through Steve's tie hanger, selecting a red one which will match her dress and coordinate well with the gray suit she had watched him put on earlier.

"Are you ready?" Drea asks, her voice a bit less dispirited than it had been a few moments earlier, and Peggy nods and moves toward her. Drea spritzes the perfume precisely, two sprays that float in the air for Peggy to walk through. She had always touched on her own scent, a bit at each wrist and at her throat, and just a drop or two on a sachet in her brassiere, but then the children had come along, and now this was a particular tradition whenever one of them helped her get ready.

"Be good for Rose," Peggy says as she leaves the room, and Drea calls back, "If she's good to me."

Rose herself is sitting sprawled out in the doorway of her bedroom, scribbling into a notebook. She is in the midst of a hard-fought campaign for presidency of the upcoming senior class, and lately seems to have decided to plop herself down whenever an idea might catch her. Her legs aren’t long, even at the end of her growth spurt, but she’s positioned herself so they stretch out into the hallway and Peggy steps over them as she passes.

"Don't forget about bedtime," she reminds her eldest, and Rose makes a vague affirmative sound before she places a firm full stop at the end of whatever sentence she is writing and, stretching, looks up at her mother.

"What did you say?"

"Bedtime," Peggy repeats firmly. "Your siblings must adhere to it. As should you. I know that school is coming to an end, but it isn’t here yet."

"Fine," Rosie says with a wave of her hand, and Peggy knows that she'll see the bedroom light snap off just as they turn up the driveway. She starts on her way again (if Rose wants to develop poor sleeping habits, that is her responsibility) but then turns back.

"And be kind to your sister," she tells Rose, dropping her voice a bit. "I think she's having a hard time."

"I can make her a Surprise," Rose suggests, and Peggy shudders, and not just because of Rosie's notoriously poor cooking skills. Drea is the only one of the children with clear memories of her birth parents - she was five when they were killed in a fire while out for their anniversary dinner. One of the things she remembers most clearly is the multitude of casseroles her birth mother made: Hamburger Surprise, Tuna Surprise, Potato Surprise... Peggy has no doubt that they were as ordinary, or perhaps as lackluster, as any example of such a dish, but Drea had built them up in her mind, built them up for Nate, who had no memories of their parents, such that she had spent her childhood requesting various types of Surprises for birthday meals or following an especially good report card.

Steve has turned into a good cook and with Emma at his side they can turn out almost anything, but a Surprise has never been Peggy’s idea of fine cuisine.

"Supper is already being taken care of," Peggy says, adding the thankfully for you only mentally. She can smell Sam's Cornbread in the oven now, can hear the airy silence downstairs, punctuated with little sounds that signify Steve refereeing a fight between Emma and Nate, likely about how much spice to add to the chili. "Just be nice to Drea."

"If she's nice to me," Rosie says, and Peggy refrains from lifting her eyes upward and asking why she had been given two daughters who were so similar and yet refused to realize it.

"Everyone's finished their schoolwork, but make sure that Nate’s book report ends up in his bag. And Emma is trying a new recipe for creamed Brussels sprouts - please tell everyone that they must at least taste it. Don’t simply take the whole pot and bury it in the garbage pail, and certainly don’t try to throw it in the woods the way you did the spinach," Peggy tells her shrewdly, but a new idea seemed to have struck and Rosie is back to her notebook again.

Peggy moves on. Rose has minded her siblings before, and Peggy doesn't want to be late to the dinner and cause an inter-agency incident; Howard would never let her hear the end of it. Besides, she and Steve will have an opportunity to discuss Drea in the car over - there comes a point where even a night away from the children is never truly away from the children.

Rosie lets Nate and Emma stay up for an extra half hour to cement herself as a Cool Older Sister. Once they're asleep, she knocks on Drea's door, barely waiting to be invited before she enters.

Drea is lying on her back on her bed, tossing a ball up and catching it.

"Be careful it doesn't hit your face," Rose says, hoping that it doesn't come out mean or bossy the way her words sometimes do when she's talking to Drea.

"It’s never happened to me before.” Drea doesn’t take her eyes off the ball. “Just because you’re still scarred from the Wiffle Ball Incident—”

“You said you wouldn’t ever mention that!” Rose comes in and closes the door all the way. “Ugh, just move over.” Drea groans as she sits up against the headboard, but she tucks her legs up to make room and Rosie takes a seat. “Look, I heard you asking Mom about makeup and stuff. Are people giving you trouble at school? Because I’ll give them a talking to if they are.”

“You’re not queen of the high school yet. No one has to just listen to you when you go blab in their face,” says Drea, jutting out her chin, although they both know that when Rosie gives someone a talking to, it not infrequently involves violence. (There had been a question about whether or not she was even allowed to run for the student council based on the number of detentions and suspensions on her record.)

“You’re my sister,” says Rose, setting her own chin. “And if someone’s making problems for you, I’ll take care of it.”

Despite herself, Drea laughs. “You sound like Jimmy Hoffa.”

“Maybe, but Mom would make sure that I covered my tracks better than he did.” Rose lies back across the bed, legs just long enough for her feet to still touch the floor. She turns her face, her hair fanned around her as she looks at Drea, curled up at the head of the bed. “You know I’m serious, right?”

“I know. But it’s not really someone in particular, it’s just...life.”

Rosie sighs. “Yeah.” She puts out her hand, and Drea scooches down to grasp it. “Life’s hard.”

Sarcasm is on the tip of Drea’s tongue - “Tell me more, oh wise one!” - but instead she stays quiet and holds her sister’s hand until their parents return.

Drea and Steve go with Bucky, Layla, and their kids to watch a blowout Orioles win during their vacation at the end of July - Drea cheers louder than anyone. In August, after they've returned from their own vacation, Peggy sits Drea down at the vanity and walks her a half dozen different beauty products, while Rose comments loudly from the bed. Just before school starts in September, Drea uses her allowance to get a flat iron and gives herself three burns learning how to use it.

The Orioles lose the Series to the Mets, and Drea starts wearing dresses for the first time since she was a child.

It won’t be any help, Steve realizes as she sits down across from him at the breakfast table, settling her skirt self-consciously, sitting up straight and crossing her ankles with awkward politeness, to remind her once more that she doesn’t need to do this. She has a good head on her shoulders, and she’s using it to process everything in the world that tells her otherwise. He remembers what Peggy has said about it, that she’ll come back to herself, she’ll come back to them, when she’s ready. So instead he says, “Hey, kid,” and when she looks up at him, he smiles and tells her, “there’s always next year, you know? Always another shot if we need it.”

And to his relief, she smiles back, the expression familiar, wild-edged and lovely, the same as it’s always been. Hello in there, he thinks.

“Yeah, Dad,” she says. “There’s always next year.”

More chapters here

#Steggy fic #Steggy #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #things left behind fic #probably nothing new next week while I do other fic prep

[cvssndra]

@downstvged​

peyton commandeers his dad's cadillac ct6 for the night: it's the vehicles first out-of-garage debut since last fall. the senior pellegrino has always preferred his official fire department dodge to the sleeker, luxurious cadi. but peyton knows his longboard just won't cut it for tonight, so he sifted through his father's desk until he found the proper keys. 

 he parks in the street by the pressman house and sits for several minutes. checks his hair in the mirror. straightens and re-straightens his bow tie. he'd been so nervous getting ready that monty had to do the honors for him. his outfit is simple and sleek: a black tux with a gold vest and tie ensemble. his fingers fumble with the corsage's plastic container as he exits the car and tries to calm his racing mind.

 soon, he reaches the front step ( and nearly trips over himself on the way ). breathe. then he's ringing the bell and rocking back and forth on his heels, deep eyes scanning the front façade of the house, its numbers, its siding, before landing on his feet. are his shoes too black? too leather? too plain? peyton gulps and resets his stance, holding the corsage behind his back and squaring his shoulders. that door will open soon. any second, it'll swing on its hinges –– and cassandra will be on the other side. his date. peyton holds his breath and waits.

cassandra was having a fight with the mirror, attempting to justify this dress. it was not a dress she would normally even look at but when she’d bought it in the first place, she also hadn’t really been expecting to go. things tended to go wrong for cassandra whenever she looked forward to things. her twelfth birthday party, her middle school graduation, the midnight premiere of harry potter and the deathly hallows part two, and of course her favorite, the school trip into the mountains that landed them here. but here she is, in the dress she bought to make her mother feel better, that she hadn’t really looked at before buying. she was just thrilled it fit. “fine, i’ll wear it. but i hope you feel really dumb if he doesn’t show,” she argued to the mirror. as if the mirror were arguing back, the doorbell rang. she squinted at the mirror angrily.

 “allie! allie, can you get that?” she got a loud and angry ‘i’m busy’ in response. with a huff she practically jumped down the steps and ran to the door throwing it open and grabbing it to keep it from hitting the wall. her eyes moved from the door to him, a beaming grin replacing whatever negative energy she’d previously been exuding. “hi,” she practically cooed.

the door whips open and peyton feels all the wind knock out of his chest in one fell swoop. cassandra stands in front of him and he has to blink a few times to ensure he isn't dreaming. when she speaks, his mind finally snaps back into gear –– his lips, which had previously fallen agape, warmed into a bright smile. 

 " hi, "  he greets back, breathlessly. peyton drinks it all in: she practically puts the sun out of business. " you look... "  he trails off, searching for a word that can possibly do her justice. " you look amazing. "  stunning, he thinks, after it's too late. breathtaking. beautiful.  it takes nearly dropping the corsage behind his back for peyton to remember he's holding it. he brings it out into view, casting cassandra a hopeful grin.

 " i... i got you this. "  white flowers. gold ribbon. the corsage is simple, understated –– he spent half a day mulling over different combinations to find the proper size and arrangement. the result? a subtle piece strung together onto a white pearl bracelet. it wouldn't take away from cassandra's ensemble: not that anything ever could. " it's... uh, white roses, "  he says, and kicks himself for it. as if she can't already see that. he recalls what kelly said about the flowers' meaning and peppers it in with a timid smile and a gentle nod toward the arrangement. 

 " they symbolize um... dignity. nobility. beauty. "  honey-hazel eyes lift. his next thought goes unsaid, but it's written all over his face. all things i see in you.

her lips pressed themselves under her teeth when he looked at her.  it was too much, it wasn't her. she should change. but then he said she looked amazing and she felt her cheeks warm, betraying her once again. "thanks. so do you! and look-" she gestures between them, "we match." her brain was doing that thing where it forgot how to work in his presence. 

her eyes dropped to the corsage and widened. "oh- you didn't have to-" she took it, admiring it in it's original glory before it inevitably got destroyed. "it's beautiful." she ran her finger along the bottom to pop it open and gently removed it from the box. "it's supposed to go on the left hand but i'm left handed so i'm going to put it on the right. hopefully it'll be less damaged that way," she rambled, slipping it on. she admired some more, before looking up. she sucked up all of her courage, leaned forward, and pressed her lips to his cheek. "thank you."

" thank you! i... yeah, we do." peyton dips his head with a light laugh as she points out their matching. without monty and tess's help, he would've surely botched that bit. he's always had a knack for smart dressing, but something about gold had him stumped. tess convinced him to go for this bolder black-and-gold print instead of a standard prom ensemble, and the way cassandra smiles at him? confirms this was the right move. 

he watches as cassandra gingerly dons the corsage and it's like the breath gets knocked out of him for the second time. you're beautiful, he thinks in response, and doesn't even realize he's also managed to say it, too. and then she's leaning up and kissing his cheeks and holy shit, it's like... it's like his heart's about to leap out into her hands. peyton's lips pull into a bright smile and his cheeks warm. " i –– of course, thank you, i–– "  he allows himself to drink her in again, eyes alight with admiration.  someone pinch him. this is real.  " should we... "  he gestures over his shoulder, toward the car. " should we head over ? "

cassandra looks past him at the car. part of her wants to say screw it and ask him if he wants to just stay here and hang out, not that she would use those specific words of course. she doesn't want to share him tonight, as selfish as that sounds, but she also knows their friends are there, expecting them. she nods, reaching over to grab her bag off the table where she'd left it before changing. she doesn't even bother to lock the door as she pulls it shut behind herself, closing the space between them far more than she's used to. but she is definitely not disappointed at it. "i really dig this bow tie," she grins, as she moves toward the car. "when i was little, i used to put all of the bow ties on the dog. my dad did not appreciate that." it's when they get to the car that she realizes she's not sure she's ever seen peyton drive. "no board tonight?" she teases.

she is... everything. and honestly? if prom wasn’t such a big deal? peyton might suggest they just chill out here, or at his, or just... anywhere, alone. the thought of her being whisked off by friends and other townspeople — it’s part of their reality now, but peyton can’t help but want to resist that social responsibility. as they make their way to the car, he relishes in their proximity. 

 “ yeah? “ well i dig you, he thinks, and lets it remain unspoken. “ thanks. “  at her story, he can’t help but laugh. “ you’re kidding. that dog must’ve been the best looking in all of town. “ he doesn’t know why, but that little anecdote finds a home in his heart and nests there. it’s a piece of cassandra pressman not many get to see. 

 “ no, i... i figured you might want to roll up in something a little more stylin’. “ he gestures to his dad’s car with a shrug. “ but hey, if you— if you ever want to hitch a ride sometime, you— you know who to call. “  an easy smile takes hold of his features but his heart hammers fast. peyton reaches out to open the passenger side door for his date — his date! — and steps aside. 

 “ your chariot awaits, “ he teases. “ a close second to the good old arbor zeppelin, but it’ll do. “  cue a playful wink as he meets cassandra’s gaze. slowly, slowly, he can feel the nerves melt away and roll off his shoulders.

this night was already better than anything she could dream up and she’d spent a lot of time dreaming about it. he was better than a dream as cliche as that sounded. in all the time she’d known him, she’d had a crush on him and there had never been the question of why. to her, it was obvious. and to force herself to keep him at arms length all this time had proved to be far more work than she’d planned. even now, there was a tinge of remorse. she wasn’t permanent, far from it in fact. and he deserved better. but she could have tonight. and for all she knew, he didn’t feel the same way she did. that would make this all a lot easier. her cheeks already hurt from smiling and they haven’t even left yet. 

“yes, the bow tie is definitely an a+. definitely ties the look together.” as if she knows anything about fashion. “he was the snazziest dog around, if i say so myself.” as cool as he looked on his board, she was glad he’d gone with car instead. “i don’t know if my first board experience would be very successful in these shoes,” she chuckles.

she places a hand to her chest with a, “why thank you kind sir,” and then slips into the car.

she's a dreamboat. and she doesn't even know it. as they walk to peyton's car, cassandra glows beneath the setting sun, and all peyton can do is stare and hope, hope, hope she doesn't notice. he laughs at her pun: she's clever, and it's one of the many reasons he's coveted this crush for so long.

 " you'd be surprised. i bet you'd look bad ass boarding in those heels. the x games wouldn't even know what hit 'em. "  peyton bows like an eighteenth century butler meets concierge, and the move's a bit goofy on him–– but it fits their hollywood throwback car scene. once she's inside, he gingerly shuts the passenger door and crosses over to let himself in. ( he's not blushing. he's not blushing. he's not–– )  nimble fingers turn the key in the ignition and he glances over before putting the car into gear, hand hovering over the console. 

 " all buckled up ? "  his face is going to split apart, he's grinning so hard. never mind the fact that he just sounded like an overprotective mom: he's too overjoyed to care.

was it hot or was it just him? her cheeks were in a permanent state of blush and it wouldn't go away. "you'll have to teach me one of these days." she was so distracted by him that she hadn't put her seatbelt on. it reminded her of the only time she didn't put a seatbelt on. it had been after a stint in the hospital and it had put her in a bit of a depression. her mother had told her to put her seat belt on and she'd mumbled ‘what's the point?’ she thought about that now as he checked on her. he was the point. 

her hand reached up and pulled her seat belt down. "yup." she got quiet for a minute or two. she'd managed to get this far without saying something completely ridiculous and hoped to keep it up. can't say something stupid if you don't speak, right? but she wanted him to speak, she loved hearing him speak. so she leaned her elbow on the middle armrest and leaned her chin in her palm. "tell me something."

at her confirmation, they begin the drive: and oh jeez, does peyton have to fight not to tear his eyes off the road to look at her instead. it's stupid, but he wants to make sure she thinks he's a good driver–– that he's a good, well, everything. he wants to make her feel comfortable. safe. and part of that is, like... not totaling his dad's nice car. so he uses his blinkers like he's taking the license test again, and abides by the speed limit, even though no one's around to be the wiser. 

 peyton spares cassandra a glance as they roll up to a stop sign and wishes retina-cameras weren't just things talked about in sci-fi movies. because if he could snap a picture of this moment... he'd cherish it forever. with her arm on the console and her chin propped in her hand, cassandra looks like... cassandra. for peyton, there's... there's no suitable comparison. he's no poet. but he knows when beauty defies description. 

 " something, "  he calls back with a playful wink, lips already forming a wide, cheesy grin as he returns his eyes to the road. a beat passes before he actually latches on to something remotely interesting to talk about: maybe some boarding stats? a cool history fact? 

" you've got a beautiful smile, "  he murmurs. he doesn't even register the slip-up for a moment, but then he's opening his mouth and clamping it shut like he's just... like he's just divulged federal secrets, and she might kick him out of his own car. but monty schooled him on this before. if you say something stupid, just commit to it. don't do your stupid fish out of water thing. so he doesn't. he just... runs with it. 

 " like... even right there. right now. that's... that's awesome. " eloquently done. nice. idiot. peyton times his breathing and re-situates his grip on the wheel. now is not the time to start spinning out.

she nearly chokes at the statement and starts to cough instead. she covers her mouth and mumbles a "thank you" from behind it. when she finally stops choking, she uncovers her mouth and is grinning again. "that's not what i meant but i'll take it." they were very close to prom and soon she was going to have to share him. there were a lot of things she wanted to say to him but all that came out was, "so do you." 

 she bites her cheek. it wasn't a compliment, and after that comment, he deserved one. it was a bold statement and he deserved as much. "i- like you.... a lot." she covered her face. "i'm sorry."

peyton stops breathing. " oh. "  so do you. he's thankful nobody else is on the road, because his vision nearly shorts for a second. cassandra... thinks his smile is... beautiful ?  jesus. it takes absolute will-power to keep from pulling over and asking if they can just... skip the dance and throw their own prom themselves.

he takes the final right turn onto the venue's street. he's about to say thank you, when the compliment finally processes, but then–– oh!  peyton's cheeks flush bright, only rivaled by his grin. " holy shit, "  he breathes, barely audible.  " no, don't, i–– "  they finally reach the parking lot, and peyton's never done a speedier parking job in his life. once the car's tossed into the correct gear, he turns to cassandra, only to find her face covered.

" hey, "  he prods, unclicking his seatbelt and leaning against the center armrest. " don't be sorry. "  a beat. he's saying this.  " i really like you, too. "

cassandra uncovers her face very slowly when he tells her not to be sorry. and then he says he likes her too. the thought... the idea... it's baffling.  she can feel her mouth hanging open like a goldfish and quickly closes it. she fears he wouldn't if he knew the truth but she decides she can't think like that, she likes him too much to worry about that right now. she needs to push the thought out of her head, she needs to focus on him. so she takes a deep breath and leans forward, pressing her lips against his for a moment before pulling away.

her lips meet his and peyton might as well have been stuck by a stun gun. his eyes widen and before he can even internalize the moment she's pulling away, and he's following, chasing her lips again once he finally gets it. the secondary kiss is quick, too, and light, and after a few seconds he pulls back. his eyebrows lift and he's about to apologize for taking more than what he's given, but what comes out is a breathless chuckle. " i... " 

 thisisreallife. this. is. REAL. LIFE. 

 " i–– " he gushes, face alight with wonder. " i had no idea. "

he comes in for another kiss and she's ecstatic. it means he wanted it too and she is relieved to say the least. "no idea?! and here i thought i was extremely obvious." now that she's done it once, it feels like a drug. she wants, no needs to do it again. this time she puts her hands on his cheeks first and adds a little more umpf into the next kiss.

" wh- extremely obvious? " before peyton can launch into an explanation of how extremely not obvious she's been, she swoops in for another kiss and boy, he's not about to complain. his eyes close and he meets her force with equal enthusiasm. his hands migrate to her shoulders, and one trails up to rest just below her jawline. he wants the world to stop. their lips only part when his lungs can't stretch longer without air –– but they scream to breathe her in, instead.  peyton rests his forehead against cassandra's, speechless. " ...holy crap, "  he breathes. dark lashes flutter open and deep brown eyes drink her in: he couldn't look away if he tried. feather light fingertips brush a strand of blonde out of her eyes. and then his lips bloom into a dazed smile. " hi. "

she is beaming. there is no other word for it. she has been waiting years for this. “hi,” she hums back. time feels like it’s crawling and she is one hundred percent okay with that. “we should really... go inside,” but she makes no effort whatsoever to move from this spot. as if moving would ruin it, as if they weren’t about to spend the night together at prom. and after too if she had any say in it. “we can... pick this up after? maybe? if you want.”

peyton nods. yeah. they should.  is she even aware of how beautiful she is?  peyton's hand finds cassandra's jaw and a tender smile warms his lips. " yeah, " he murmurs. " i'd like that. "  he dips his head to snatch another gentle kiss, just because he can. his middle school self is singing.

all cassandra can think about is how much better this is in real life than what she'd imagined and how she spent years assuming this feeling was unrequited. she still hasn't moved, as if leaving his touch might cause a natural disaster. as if her life depended on it. if this feeling could fix her heart, she'd be set for life just from these few minutes. "me too." only after he's pulled away again does she take a deep sigh.

 "okay, we should probably go in." it's then that she realizes his mouth is now the same shade as hers and she bites her lip to stifle the laugh. "do you- do you have a napkin or something?"

peyton's cheeks ache from smiling but he keeps on grinning, because he can't help it. all of this? it's better than he could have ever dreamed. it makes all those years spent pining totally more than worth it. and to see her feel the same? it's crazy. it's wild. he's gonna need someone to pinch him, hard. 

 " napkin? "  peyton's brow furrows a bit but he pays the item some thought. his dad's always prepared for everything –– disaster kit in the back, some kind of fire retardant in every possible place. " uh... "  peyton sifts around the center console before coming up empty. " maybe try that glove compartment ? "  it doesn't even dawn on him to ask what it's for. it doesn't matter. if a napkin's what cassandra wants, he'll give her twenty. she's got him wrapped around her finger. then he notices the look she's giving him, and he can't help but smile wider. " what ? "

she opens the glove compartment and finds a stack of paper towels. she only takes the one and closes  it back up, turning back to him. "i think you're-" she takes his chin between her fingers, "wearing more lipstick than i am now." she wipes his lips gently with the paper towel. "in a smeared, demented clown kind of way." she manages to get most of it off before turning the paper towel inside out. she reaches up to pull down the sun flap and uses the mirror to remove the remainder of her own smeared mess. "there we go."

peyton's eyebrows lift as cassandra holds his chin, and then he can't help but laugh. " demented clown. how'd you know that's always been my dream? " he's shocked by how easy this is. being with her. after years of nearly panicking just meeting her eye, it... feels amazing. like they didn't just link up. like they've been doing this for a while.  " thanks, "  he adds as he pockets the car keys and watches her perfect the lipstick they both had a hand in smudging. it brings forth a sense of giddy pride.  " so we know we're really good at making messes, huh ? "  cue a lopsided smile.

cassandra chucklees when he says that's been his dream, making sure the thought that he's her dream stays in her head. her cheeks warm at the comment about messes. she wasn't very good at those. she wasn't supposed to make messes. but she would rather make messes with him than continue living her boring, non-messy life. you need to tell him her head insisted, but she fought it away. they could have one nice night before she dropped the bombshell that was her fate. she'd only held off this long because she never thought he could like her back but now he did, and it was too late to tell him before that happened. yeah, she'd tell him after prom. or maybe tomorrow. but not now. she grinned over at him. "the faster we go in, the faster we can leave, right?"

she looks amazing, with or without lipstick smudges. and peyton wants so badly to tell her that, but... he's too busy throwing her not-so-subtle heart eyes to compose the message. he beams and nods at her question. " i think that's how it works. or... we dip our toe in and go make a blanket fort instead. "  he chuckles but... he's semi-serious. with a definitive nod, he exits his side of the vehicle and crosses over to open cassandra's door for her. " ready for some space travel ? "  stupid theme-related joke.  moron. peyton extends his hand and a charming smile anyway.

all she wants is to tell him to turn the car around so they can go make that blanket fort. but if she doesn't show up, people will talk, and they were doing that enough already. instead she pulls herself out of the car. "it's gonna be out of this world," she teased back. his hand comes out toward her and her breath hitches . this was happening. she was going to prom... with the boy she'd had a crush on for years and there were feelings. real, whole, mutual feelings. with all of these wonderful thoughts bouncing around in her head, she took his hand with a grin.

it's gonna be out of this world. peyton lets out one of those exhale laughs, through his nose. he shouldn't find that funny but he really, really does. she takes his hand and he gives hers a gentle squeeze. " oh, for sure. think aliens like to party ? "  they begin the walk to the venue's front door, but every bone in his body aches to get back in that car and just... go for a ride. chill somewhere quiet. talk and talk and talk until the sun rises. but they've got tomorrow; they've got plenty more days for that. now, he reaches forward with his free hand and pulls open the door to new ham's prom with a hopeful smile. he takes a moment to revel in it, her smile, just for him. as they step through the threshold though, arm in arm, it's time for the whole town to see cassandra pressman shine.

#c;peyton #this is only under a read more because it's long af

[glittering-snowfall]

Prompt: “He told me to follow him.”

WARNING: ANGST, PAIN, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

This is the sequel to the previous prompt I filled. It makes the crossover much clearer.

He is long and lanky, like a shadow cast at the end of the day. Bony cheekbones. Sunken, shadowed eyes. They match the color of his carnivalesque attire, those eyes. He wears a coat of dark purple – or perhaps maroon, Elsa cannot tell. When the light catches it one way, it seems only the ragtag outfit of a street performer. But when the light catches it another way, it reminds the queen of dried blood. The vest he wears is bright purple – gaudy like a showman’s garb. It makes him seem cheap, a two-bit huckster, hardly a threat. Even the skull and crossbones on his top hat seem only a gimmick to catch the eye of some bumpkin. Yet the rusty, bloody quality of his coat in the light keeps Elsa ill at ease. In the same manner, his eyes seem to flicker in the dim light, shifting like a slippery shadow... one moment violet, another moment seeming to be just touched with flecks of red…

Like a slippery shadow…

His shadow… Elsa keeps her eyes fixed on it, for it seems to move of its own accord. It mimics his movements, but something is just off enough in the synchronization to make her anxious…

“Who are you?” she demands.

The Shadow Man chuckles to himself. Oh, that’s the voice of a girl born with a silver spoon in her mouth, alright. Surly. Proud. Thinks she’s in command. He’s heard voices like hers all his life, talking down to him from their fancy cars, from up on high in their big New Orleans mansions.

He loathes them so.

No matter the time or place, these fat cats always sound the same. High and mighty. Holier than thou. They treat you like the mud beneath their boots, but they’ve got skeletons in their closets, oh yes…

He feels the tremble in her voice. It does him good to feel it. She’s still clinging to her fine airs. What will she do next, threaten call the guard on him? Well, let her wear her haughty tone like armor. No armor will protect her. He already knows she’s bleeding from the inside.

“A friend,” he says smoothly.

Elsa feels her hands grow clammy. His voice is rich as chocolate, deep as caverns beneath the mountains…

“What do you want of me?”

He only laughs a soft laugh, but it has the rumble of far-off thunder. “I think the better question is,” he answers, “‘What do you want?”

She eyes the stranger cautiously. “What do you mean?”

He loves watching the squirms of guilt, loves the moment wayward souls realize in horror that he can see into their hearts.

“Oh, I know what is to have a hard life, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Since I was a kid, I’ve scraped the shit off the streets. But you? Well, darling, I’ll be damned if you don’t put me to shame! Your life seems to wind like one long river of sorrow… How far it goes, you can’t tell, but the black waters seem to stretch on endlessly. You escape drowning once and, why, your little boat up and topples over again… Living in fear all those years, then your parents dying, then seeing your sister cold as ice. My, my!”

As he speaks, her life swirls before her in a cloud of purple tinged with flame. She sees her parents’ ship swallowed by the sea, sees their anguished faces when they realized there was no hope for them. She sees herself helpless in the darkness of her room. And then she sees Anna’s lifeless form before her like a statue hewn of purest ice.

The purple cloud spreads into a fog, and when the fog rises, a world of light and vapor is before her. The light is not purple or crimson, but white as heaven’s light. And there, at the heart of this glistening vision, half shrouded in pearly mists, she sees Anna and herself.

Naked.

Locked in an embrace.

She feels that rich-as-chocolate voice rustling in her ear:

“All your life, you’ve known pain. You’ve thought of others, buried your own wants for others’ sakes. But you know what you want, Elsa. Take it. Isn’t it time you thought of yourself for once?”

Elsa screams – and with her scream, the shadowland of light and pearl tears asunder, falls to pieces. She slumps to the ground and finds herself in the palace hallway once again.

“Never,” she breathes, and her voice is firm.

But her heart is pounding.

“I… I could never… No… Anna is not some bauble you can dangle in front of my face,” Elsa murmurs through gritted teeth. “She’s her own person with her own life to live. She… she wants to be with Kristoff… She is… happy… with Kristoff…”

Crumpled on the ground, she cannot see the Shadow Man’s face.

She cannot see how his face falls, his lips purse together and pencil-thin moustache bristles… only for his whole countenance to regain composure in an instant.

For the situation is salvageable. His mind works steadily as he studies the young queen curled up on the floor, sweat dripping from her waxy face.

As grubby and slick as a bit of shrimp…

…ready for the skewer.

“Always the honorable one,” he says softly. There seems to be no malice in his voice. “Always trying to do what’s best for your dear sister… but think about this, Elsa. The more the guilt, the shame, and self-hatred from this… lustful obsession… eat away at you… the more pain you’ll cause your sister. Already, your inner turmoil is making you revert to your old ways. You’re seeking out solitude, cutting yourself off from Anna again… and she can feel that, I promise you.”

Elsa looks up helplessly. “I don’t mean to…” she whimpers, but the Shadow Man goes on.  

“She might try to pay it no mind now, but give it a few more years, and there’ll be a gaping wound in her heart she cannot name.”

There is violent panic in Elsa’s voice now. “No… no, please, no…”

“Is that what you want, Elsa? To make the same mistakes you’ve always made? To torture Anna slowly in the process, torture the one person you love most in this world?”

Ugly sobs tear through Elsa’s body. The very act of trying to answer chokes her. At last, after many ragged breaths, she manages to speak.

“I wish I… didn’t have these… these feelings…” she gasps. “I wish I wasn’t such a… degenerate… I wish Anna and I could live as sisters, without this… this canker between us…”

In that moment, she wants something only he can offer.

In that moment, he has her.

How changed she is from when she first spoke – the queenly aura crashing down! He loves watching the mighty fall!

He puts a tender hand upon her shoulder. His shadow reaches out from the wall and does the same. She doesn’t even flinch.

Shadow and man cling to the young queen in a perverse image of comfort.

“Me and my friends can help with that…”

***

The great masks leer down at Facilier from the squalor of the voodoo emporium.

“Now, fri-i-e-e-e-nds,” he drawls in his smarmy singsong, “I know y’all were expecting me to swish the smoky souls of both that queen and princess into your waiting nostrils, nudge ’em into each other’s arms and watch ’em fall together like Paolo and Francesca, pretty as a picture, but–”

At Faciler’s “but–”, the eyes of the great masks narrow, burning with unearthly light. The greatest among the masks bares its teeth, a growl rumbling from beyond its jaws.

“Now, let me finish! Let me finish!” he cries, arms gesticulating wildly. “What I mean to say is, y’all don’t know that much about how to work human nature. Y’all are fine fellows, sure, but the darkest thoughts are the only ones to draw you in. Now, I’ll admit, I don’t have the highest opinion of my fellow man, but I know what love is and how it works within a body. You wanted to give her the power to sate her lust, but she doesn’t just lust after her sister. She loves her true. She wasn’t going to go jump at that offer. I threw it in her face and she threw it back at me. She’d rather her sister be happy than she herself have her own happiness. So I had to go about things my own way.”

When Facilier had begun to speak, there had been panic in his voice – but the more he spoke, the more pride scourged that panic away. They from the other side, why, they’d almost bungled the deal. He’d saved it. He alone. Through his own raw wit.

In his heart of hearts, he thinks he is cleverer than they are – and while he’d never say it outright (for he knows their rage would be terrible), in this moment, he cannot help but gloat a little… lord their own ignorance over them a bit.

“What did I do?” he says, in full showman style, as though he speaks to a tourist on the street and not the forces of darkness. “I appealed to that love. I made out that, the more her desires consume her, the more she tortures her sister. Queenie has to push her sister away so as not to succumb to temptation, but the more Queenie pushes her sister away, the more devastated the little princess becomes.  You see, that put our Ice Queen in a bind. If she sacrifices her own longings for her sister’s sake, it doesn’t matter. The sister still comes out hurt. That broke Queenie, broke her down but good. And when she was good and broken, I was able to slip a subtle word in…”

The great masks grin horribly now. Facilier basks in the glory, never realizing that he is less than a dog proud of doing a silly trick for its master’s favor.

“She wants to be washed clean of her sin. She wants never to think of her sister in that away again. That way, she doesn’t have to avoid her – and that way, her sister doesn’t end up hurt, heartbroken, and alone. Isn’t that sweet?” he coos. “Well, gentlemen, I’ve never been much in the revivalist spirit before, but now? What are we waiting for?! Let’s cleanse this poor soul! And don’t you worry, don’t you worry! I’ve been watching the sister too! She’s already on the hook, doesn’t even realize it!”

Facilier’s laughter mingles with the laughter of his friends, shaking the shabby voodoo parlor. His long-fingered hand glides across the floor and the floor opens beneath his feet. Instead of wood, that remote part of Arendelle Castle spreads below him. He sees Elsa where he left her, kneeling as if in prayer. Yet he knows she has not the strength to pray. He studies the fine details of her face as though she were an ornately crafted chess piece. He savors the creases of pain about her eyelids, relishes the brittle grey straw of her hair…

Then he reaches down through the portal and whispers:

“So, your majesty, do we have a deal?”

Elsa’s bloodshot eyes snap open at the prickle of his voice.

Other voices whisper to her and she does not know if they are the Shadow Man’s friends or her own pained thoughts…

You’re a pervert…

Monster…

If you remain as you are, you hurt Anna…

You cause her pain…

You can live with yourself this way…

And with her…

As you were meant to…

As sisters…

What does your soul matter – if you can cleanse this contamination in your mind?

What does your soul matter – so long as Anna is safe from the darkness in you?

“We have a deal,” she murmurs, and shakes the Shadow Man’s hand.

There is a sea of light and color and the world becomes a blur.

***

Queen Elsa of Arendelle sleeps better than she has in ages.

That first night, the Shadow Man watches over her like a dark god. The lines of pain which he so loved in her face are melted now. He has kept his end of the bargain.

When she awakens the next morning, she remembers nothing – not of the Shadow Man, not of the deal, not of her unnatural passion for her sister.

She awakens refreshed. Sunlight streams through her gauzy curtains. Birds twitter with joy.

Anna bounds into the room, hair wild in the morning. “You’re up!” she cries happily. “Yay!”

Elsa smiles at her, a serene and peaceful smile.

“Kristoff and I are going for a walk later on today! We’ll tell you all about it when we get back!”

“Of course, Anna!”

Anna pauses to look at Elsa closer. “You look… different today, Elsa! It’s a good different! You look better than you have in weeks!”

Elsa feels a warm rush of pure happiness.

“I feel better than I have in weeks, Anna.”

The Shadow Man lets out a sharp bark of laughter.

Days roll into months, months into years. The world seems in eternal summer for the sisters of Arendelle and their loved ones. They frolic in the garden. They go for picnics. In afternoons ripe and lush, they make daisy chains in the meadows. Olaf makes friends with the buzzing bees. In the blue glow of nights, Kristoff plays his lute merrily. Anna rests her head gently against his shoulder and Elsa looks on, beaming like the sun.  In all their hearts, it is summer – warm and glorious summer!

Until the day of reckoning comes.

Usually, in the days before a debt is due, The Shadow Man contents himself with his victims’ mounting panic – their hysterical desperation, their attempts to find any way to weasel out of the deal…

This, though? This might be better.

Queenie doesn’t have a clue.

It makes it so much more beautiful when she starts screaming.

Her sister is there beside her, gazing at her with adoring eyes. Adoration turns to horror as that huge mask shows itself, opens its glowing maw, and inhales.

Its first breath flays the skin from off the queen’s back, sucking her backward.

She tries to cling to Anna.

“What’s happening to me?” she sobs, her face contorted with tears and pain.

She screams her throat raw.

Weke, weke! so cries a pig prepared to the spit.

Her screams are music to his ears.

In clinging to Anna, Elsa pulls her along with her.

Even in the cyclone of pain, she senses Anna being dragged along too.

That is why Elsa finally lets go.

For Anna. To save her.

Anna can do nothing, can only watch Elsa be consumed by the neon glow radiating from that mask’s jaws.

The princess of Arendelle stands still as stone, eyes deadened in shock, gazing at the blinding glare of light emanating from the dark entity.

It is at this moment that the Shadow Man strides into her view, striking against the brilliant green behind him.

Seeing this shady figure of flesh and bone, cold shock kindles into outrage. Anna lunges at the Shadow Man, pummeling him with her fists.

Alas, her pummels are far weaker than usual and come to naught, for Anna is too overwrought with anguish and grief to put much force into them.

“Easy there, girl!” the Shadow Man cries. “Easy there!”

“What have you done to my sister?!” Anna demands.

“I haven’t done a thing to her. She made a deal with some friends of mine.”

And he tells her all in naked detail. He even tells her of Elsa’s love for her, how it ran deeper than the love of a sister.

He sees Anna blanch at that and wishes he could take a photograph of her face – so his friends could taunt Elsa with it over on the other side.

He dearly wishes that he could immortalize that look of confused disgust and use it to sting the young queen for eternity.

But as the Shadow Man goes on, Anna’s features soften. Her disgust for Elsa turns to pity and then to some strange mixture of pity and love – love tarnished by bitter knowledge, but love just the same.

That’s what the Shadow Man has been banking on.

“Take me instead,” Anna murmurs.

“What was that?”

“Take me in Elsa’s place. She’s… she’s suffered enough…”

Ah, the better angels of our nature! Sweet, self-sacrificing Anna! Tinged with pity, tinged with guilt. Maybe a trifle of self-blame in there too considering the way he framed the story he just told!

His grand design works.

“You would do that… for her?” he intones gravely.

Anna stares into the yawning chasm of the gigantic mask’s mouth. She stands upon the brink.

“I… I would,” she says softly, and her voice shows she is afraid.

“Done!” the Shadow Man thunders – and with one rough shove, he hurls Anna headlong into the neon-green abyss.

“I’ll mention your offer to my friends on the other side!” he calls after her. “To tell the truth though, I don’t believe they’ll take you up on it! They’re not the sort of folks that go altering deals out of the goodness of their hearts! I’m sure your sis’ll appreciate the sentiment though!”

He leans in over the mask’s teeth to mock her, then pulls himself back.

Wouldn’t want to get pulled in himself.

He twitches in mild apprehension.

When the mask’s mouth closes, he looks up at it with a smirk.

“You don’t plan to take her up on that offer, do you?”

The chamber rings with ominous laughter.

“I thought not.”

#elsanna #icest #arencest

[aion-rsa]

​​​​Pokémon: The Evolution of the Dub Opening Themes

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

When you talk to any casual fan about Pokémon, they’ll remember three things. Pikachu, Porygon seizures, and the theme song. The original theme of Pokémon has entrenched itself into pop culture, and is arguably the biggest song to come out of an anime dub ever.

But the Pokémon franchise has had a long journey since that initial success, its opening theme songs changing with the times. Even as theme songs for TV have mostly gone away, Pokémon has kept the light of them alive with no fewer than 24 songs across as many years!

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Why don’t we take a look back and see how they’ve evolved in that time? It’s worth examining how music trends influenced the songs and which ones are just straight up bops. Along the way we’ll look at how the songs match up to the visuals of the openings as well, because these songs don’t exist in a vacuum and exist first and foremost to be paired with the shows.

Pokémon Indigo League

‘Pokémon Theme’

How do you begin to discuss perfection?

This is the theme song by which all Pokémon theme songs are judged. That isn’t just nostalgia talking, they hit this out of the park. The opening notes convey a sense of wonder and mystery, aided by the sights of Mewtwo and Mew. The lyrics expertly convey the core appeal of the franchise and the anime in particular; you’re traveling on a big adventure to catch as many of these creatures as you can! It should feel like cynical marketing, especially with “gotta catch ‘em all,” but it’s inspiring! It’s right up there with ‘The Fellowship’ theme from Lord of the Rings as one of the best adventure songs of all time.

But you know what this song has that the Lord of the Rings theme doesn’t? Visuals timed to the beat of the song! Let me tell you, Lord of the Rings would have won 11 Oscars for every single movie in the franchise if they started their films with opening visuals edited together this perfectly. Damn near every cut in the opening is put on the beat or matches the flow of the song. The perfect example of this is the shot just before the logo where Ash tosses the Poké Ball. The timing of that ball toss with “gotta catch ‘em ALL” is expert level.

You may think you remember this opening solely because of the song but those visuals do a lot of legwork.

 Pokémon: Adventures in the Orange Islands

‘Pokémon World’

Pokémon could have stuck with the original opening forever, endlessly remixing it (Degrassi style, baby!) but they made the bold decision to make ‘Pokémon World’ it’s own thing and it earns major points for that. The original theme is a classic adventure song but this feels more like an adventure song specifically for the summer. It’s bouncier, breezier, and lighter but still communicates the wonder of the Pokémon world.

The visuals aren’t timed quite as well but we’ve still got shots like that one of Officer Jenny and Nurse Joy perfectly synced to the cadence of the “CROWWWDS” lyric.

Pokémon: The Johto Journeys

‘Pokémon Johto’

‘Pokémon World’ boldly broke free from the original but it still maintained the general feel. This one does something completely new. This isn’t an adventure song; this is a fun time with your friends! It’s practically a campfire sing-along song! This reflects the general shifting of what the Pokémon franchise was at the time, from a game and anime with some shades of gray to a bright and colorful, suitable for every demographic with all the edges filed off. That isn’t a knock by the by, the theme needs to be an accurate portrayal of what you’re getting and this song does an excellent job at that. It’s just not as exciting as what came before.

The editing and visuals are above average here but we’re seeing the beginning of a noticeable issue with the opening themes. They’re mixing visuals from the Japanese opening (which clearly has better animation) and visuals from the show. You’ve got this crisp and bright animation next to the softer visuals from the show. It takes you a little out of the experience of the theme, even if it’s only subconsciously.

Pokémon: Johto League Champions

‘Born to Be a Winner’

Oh I am HERE for this song. First off you’ve got the song leading with the chorus of the original theme but it’s got a solid new beat behind it. That beat drives the entire song and it only gets bigger and better as it goes. This is the feeling of adventure the first two themes gave us but with a new edge!

And man that cut when Ash and Pikachu land that’s timed perfectly to “JOH-TO” is sublime. Shame the visuals, which look so crisp and uniform, are oddly broken up with that shot at the end of Umbreon taken from the show. Why is it the only one? It’s a good shot but come on, keep it consistent!

Pokémon: Master Quest

‘Believe in Me’

This one is… fine. It’s fine! It’s biggest sin is that it’s pretty generic. Besides the two shouts of “Pokémon!” it feels like it could fit any other early 2000’s anime dub. Also we’ve got the first (and  not the last) awkward shoehorning in of the title of the season. “I’m on a MASTER QUEST!” I mean, I get it. Ash wants to be a Pokémon master. I get what they’re going for but… eh.

The song also doesn’t have a strong beat behind it so I guess they decided not to care about matching the edits to the song. It’s not bad but again, very average.

Pokémon: Advanced

‘I Wanna Be a Hero’

…I wanna be a hero? I know Ash has saved the world way more times than he can even remember but that really isn’t his focus. He’s not a hero. (And don’t you dare come in these comments and talk about Slowking and the world turning to Ash, this ain’t the movies!) He’s not trying to stop evil, corruption, or the dozens of criminal organizations that challenge children to Pokémon battles. He’s just a guy! The song itself is once again fine but generic. The editing is a little better than last time, if only for finally making all the visuals consistent.

Pokémon: Advanced Challenge

‘This Dream’

Now THIS is more like it. That guitar adds so much! The lyrics are back to feeling more like Pokémon. Dreams! Rising to the challenge! Friendships! This theme is proof that Pokémon openings are far better when the lyrics reflect the show. I know someone in the Pokémon music office (I imagine there’s just 100 Jigglypuff plushies in there) has dreams of one of these openings taking off on the pop charts and wants to make it as generic as possible with as few references to Pokémon as possible to do so. That’s a mistake. This isn’t some generic anime that has a song about love or whatever and never mentions the title in the song (looking at you basically every anime opening ever.) This is a gigantic franchise! Let the song be unabashedly about the series!

The power is back in the editing as well! Should almost every opening time its music to Ash tossing a Poké Ball? Yep!

 Pokémon: Advanced Battle

‘Unbeatable’

We are on a roll! Great instrumental, good singer, and those lyrics really hone in on the battling aspect of Pokémon. What really makes this one work is that, “from the stars and the ancient past” lyric. Hinting at the mystery of the Pokémon world adds a richness and wonder to any opening theme and it breaks up all the lyrics about battling. Also I’m just a sucker for “Ooooowhoaaaa” in songs.

This one feels like they had the clips they wanted to use in the opening and gave it to whoever wrote the song because they all fit so damn well!

Pokémon: Battle Frontier

‘Battle Frontier’

Uh, well that roll was short. Also, this song is way too short! It has no time or room to build! Not that it has much to work with, it’s an extremely weak song which isn’t helped by needing to get “BATTLE FRONTIER” in there somewhere. It worked for Advanced Battle because those two words are cool. Battle is cool, obviously, but the word frontier is wasted on a song like this. If this was more of an adventure tune like the original opening it might work but this is just generic filler music. The first opening that falls into the “below average” category.

Pokémon: Diamond and Pearl

‘Diamond and Pearl’

I take it back! Give me ‘Battle Frontier’ back! When you start a new era of Pokémon you need your opening theme to hit hard and this is beyond weak. Working in the lyrics “it’s a new game” and “DIAMOND AND PEARL” does it zero favors, nor does the speak-singing. These openings, both in their music and visuals, are quickly becoming forgettable.

Pokémon: DP Battle Dimension

‘We Will Be Heroes’

We’ve got a stronger singer this time but the song has no energy driving it! On paper the lyrics are fine, even if someone at the Pokémon office does not understand, once again, that Ash and company aren’t heroes. Also this theme just isn’t exciting. A Pokémon theme song NEEDS to be exciting! Come on, you’ve got a shot of the team on jet skis! How is this boring?!

Pokémon: DP Galactic Battles

‘Battle Cry – (Stand Up!)’

Okay, we’re back on track! Great singer, sense of adventure, a chorus echoing the lyrics (always a good move) and that killer drumbeat! A drumbeat that the editor smartly timed a lot of the clips to. I dig it! It also smartly only busts out the “GALACTIC BATTLES!” at the very end, which more of these seasons with awkward titles should do.

Pokémon: DP Sinnoh League Victors

‘We Will Carry On!’

At this point I need to ask, why are we even bothering with an intro? Sure Galactic Battles was okay but the songs are so short they don’t use that short time properly. 30-second intros can be done, OK K.O! did an amazing opening song in 20 seconds! This song though is just some mindless Disney Channel level butt rock.

Pokémon: Black and White

‘Black and White’

I wish this had more of that male singer. It sounds like he’s trying to do an ‘80s ballad impression (a little Michael Bolton) which would have been INCREDIBLE for a Pokémon theme but instead we go for a passable if generic vocal. I think there’s a lot of potential in using the “black and white” concept for a song (good and evil in the Pokémon world is a thing!) but then I remember. It’s Pokémon. We’re not wrestling with deep moral and ethical questions about good and evil here.

Also the choice of a CG opening is… a choice! It’s certainly unique for the franchise but if the show isn’t CG what’s the point?

Pokémon: BW Rival Destinies

‘Rival Destinies’

Look, I love some butt rock. ‘Phenomenon’ by Thousand Foot Krutch is a killer song but you need more OOMPH in your song to pull it off! Pokémon is one of the biggest franchises on the planet! It needs a better song than one you’ll forget five seconds after it ends. Embrace the butt rock! Let these singers really go for it!

Pokémon: Adventures in Unova and Beyond

‘It’s Always You and Me’

I didn’t know Christian Kids Rock was a genre the Pokémon series would try and tackle but here we are. What hath God wrought? I guess I can give it a point for its commitment to not have even an inkling of edginess? Honestly I’m so distraught by these openings at this point I’m just trying to find anything good I can.

We’re also long past the visuals and editing that bother to match the opening song and it’s a shame. I know the anime is a disposable product meant to prop up the games and franchise as a whole but man, the lack of care in the editing is a little sad. We’ve certainly come so far from the very first opening.

Pokémon the Series: XY

‘Pokémon Theme (Version XY)’

Oh. Oh my god. Oh my GOD. It’s good. No, it’s great. No, it’s INCREDIBLE. I’m saved! You may think it’s only because of nostalgia but let me tell you, they could have done that original song dirty. No, they pulled out all the stops and gave that classic a new lease on life. They pick up the pace and give it a harder rock sound. It’s still only 30 seconds but they use every moment to its fullest extent.

This extends to the visuals which, for the first time in a long time, perfectly match the song. When the chorus hits and the song picks up they toss endless battle shots at you! It’s epic! It pumps you up! After so long it finally feels like a Pokémon theme song again in music and visuals.

Pokémon the Series XY: Kalos Quest

‘Be a Hero’

Welp, it was nice while it lasted. Look, Pokémon, I need to explain to you that Ash is just a kid on a quest to make friends and catch Pokémon. Stop trying to make “be a hero’ happen. It’s never gonna happen! The song itself is back into generic land but that singer going ham on “heeeeROOOOO” did make me smile. It’s total butt rock and I’m here for it. As much as the hero thing doesn’t fit Pokémon the visuals of the opening do sell that FEELING and that deserves some points.

Pokémon the Series: XYZ

‘Stand Tall’

Stadium rock for a Pokémon opening? I’m kinda here for it! If Ash was a wrestler I could easily imagine this as his entrance theme. It certainly stands out from previous openings, even though it doesn’t utilize its 30 seconds well enough. Ash seemingly tapping his feet to the beat is glorious, even if the rest of the visuals aren’t well timed to the song.

Pokémon the Series: Sun & Moon

‘Under The Alolan Sun’

I. Love. This. Opening. It’s the second best Pokémon opening, just behind the original. It’s so fun! It matches the slice of life comedy vibe that Sun & Moon did so well. More than that it feels inviting in a way so many of these themes haven’t been. The original theme made you excited to go on a journey but this one makes you want to live on the island with these characters!It’s that shot of everyone dancing alongside their Pokémon that does it. How can you not groove along and smile with that? Then we’ve got those crossfade shots of everyone with their Pokémon that takes it over the top. This is how you start a new era of Pokémon!

Pokémon the Series: Sun & Moon – Ultra Adventures

​​‘Under The Alolan Moon’

A new genre for these openings, which I’m all for, but the problem is that it feels like the song is ramping up to the big chorus but before it can get there the song just ends. The beat is fine but after the fun of the ‘Under The Alolan Sun’ opening this pales in comparison.

 Pokémon the Series: Sun & Moon – Ultra Legends

‘The Challenge of Life’

The drums make this song! It feels big yet keeps the fun of the first Sun & Moon opening. It even sneaks in some of the grand feeling that only the Pokémon world has. I can’t say this is a song I’d put on repeat on its own but it sets the tone for the series pretty damn well. Plus that shot of Ash jumping into the water at the top is just damn cool.

Pokémon Journeys: The Series

‘The Journey Starts Today’

Pokémon, but what if it was sung by Imagine Dragons? The first half is bland but once we hit those “Whoaoaoaoa” I can’t help but want to clap along. It’s not a memorable opening by any means but as a kid I can imagine getting into it. That tracking shot that starts with Pikachu helps a lot.

Pokémon Master Journeys: The Series

‘Journey to Your Heart’

That guitar riff! Holy hell, this song does not mess around with its 30 seconds. A powerful hook, rockin’ beat, and engaging lyrics. Look, “journey to your heart” is kind of a meaningless phrase but damn if it doesn’t get you pumped! It’s so anime. It’s so Pokémon!

The editing of the opening visuals matches the song. We start with a calm shot of the team looking over a cliff at sunset but then as the drums kick in we get that jeep flying into the air! Majesty, action, and not too long after we’ve got Ash dancing! It’s so cute and it matches the song!

Conclusion

I’m glad we could end this look back through the Pokémon openings on such a high note. The Diamond & Pearl through Black & White era was easily the roughest but the last few series have managed to get back some of that original Pokémon theme song glory. I’d be lying though if I said any theme managed to stand up to the original though. They knocked it outta the park from the jump. I can only imagine how intimidating it is for any band to come in and try and add to the Pokémon legacy after that, especially with it now being watched by many corporate overlords. It’s honestly a bit of a miracle we could get something as good as ‘Under The Alolan Sun’ from a franchise as big as Pokémon. 

Still, anytime a new Pokémon theme drops I always give it a listen. The ones that manage to capture the magic of Pokémon are some of the most special and fun opening themes out there.

Also if anyone from the  Pokémon music office is reading, please release a full three-minute version of ‘Under The Alolan Sun.’ The world needs it!

The post ​​​​Pokémon: The Evolution of the Dub Opening Themes appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2VP8mkv

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

[umbrahighpriestofgiratina]

Rude Awakening, Chapter 2

In which jokes are made at the expense of Utah. And Ohio.

Chapter 2: Welcoming Committee

The four emerged in a grassy meadow, the portal quickly closing behind them as they gazed around curiously.

"Doesn't look like anything too out of the ordinary..." said Quentin.

"You'll see soon enough," said Palkia, "There should be a big city up ahea-"

"What is that?!" said Hoopa.

He was pointing to a brown shaggy creature, with round ears and sharp claws and teeth, sniffing at them cautiously.

Palkia blinked. "Seems this is a bit further from home than expected - that's an animal, not a Pokemon."

"A-animal?" said Hoopa.

"They are beings touched by forces quite different from us Legendaries," said Dialga; "Like Pokemon, but feral and with only basal intelligence."

"So that thing is a fucked-up Ursaring?" said Hoopa.

"It's just a bear." said Palkia.

"...Just a bear? Not an Ursaring or a Pangoro or a Beartic or a Bewear, just a bear?"

"I... think it's a brown bear?" said Palkia, shrugging sheepishly.

Hoopa crossed his arms. "They need to hire a new guy to name these things."

"Can I keep it, though?" said Giratina.

Everyone looked over to see Giratina was holding the bear and pinning its limbs from behind, the creature roaring and attempting to futilely claw and bite at him.

"Giratina, no, you can't just adopt the local fauna in place like this!" said Dialga, scowling.

"But it's soft and huggable," said Giratina, pouting.

Palkia sighed. "Just keep it untill we get to Ylisse and we'll see what we do there."

She headed off, everyone else following after, the bear still struggling and roaring in protest in Giratina's grip.

The four eventually wandered far enough to reach the outskirts of a lavish city before them.

"There it is! Oh, it looks just like the game, I'm so excited!"

"Fancy place!" said Hoopa. "What's it called?"

'Yilissitoll, capital of Yilisse!"

"...The cities too?"

Palkia shrugged. "Eh, I've heard worse. There's this city near a salt lake in a universe we stopped by one time, you know what they called it?"

"...What?"

"Salt Lake City."

"...I'm suddenly grateful for our universe."

Palkia smiled. "As a mon who helped make it, I appreciate that. That said, let's see this one up close, shall we?"

The bear roared in protest again.

"Hush, Wuzzles," said Giratina, patting the bear softly while maintaining his tight grip. "I'll get you snacks when we get to the city place."

"Giratina, you were supposed to let that thing free when we got to the city!" said Dialga.

"Er, actually," said Palkia, "Letting it loose this close to the city might be a problem."

Hoopa put his hands on his hips. "...I'm not putting that in the Stash."

Dialga glared at Giratina before shaking his head, sighing.

"Please, just... Keep  it pinned for now."

"Thanks bro!" said Giratina, indeed hugging the protesting bear tighter.

Everyone then headed into the city proper, marvelling at the elaborate and sturdy buildings, bustling locals of various walks of life, and the busy shops, stalls, and bazaars, ignoring the more than a few odd glances they got back themselves as they whispered among each other.

"It looks so much like some of the cities in our world just a few hundred years ago..." said Dialga.

"Quite the nostalgia trip, huh?" said Hoopa.

"Still different from back home, though," said Giratina. "No Pokemon, humans dressed funny even for the time period, selling funky things at the shops..."

"Speaking of which, we should stick to the plan trying to talk to anyone for now," said Palkia.

"The "is that foreign" plan?" said Giratina.

"Yep."

"Hopefully we won't have to use it too soon..." said Dialga.

"Yeah, better for now we-" said Palkia.

She stopped froze, and grinned. "Scratch that, it's them!"

Everyone else turned to see Palkia staring enraptured at four people nearby - a white-haired young man in a black-and purple coat, a taller, blue-haired young man dressed in blue armor with a white cape hanging behind him, an even taller, somewhat older man with brown hair and much heavier armor, and a teenage girl with long blonde hair in pigtails complimenting a strange, dress-like outfit, all looking over the items in a shop.

"...Them?" said Dialga.

"The Shepherds! Well, the four major ones. They're the main characters of the game!"

"So they're the dudes we wanna hang with?'

"Exactly!" said Palkia.

"Sweet!" said Hoopa.

He frowned. "Now how exactly do we get chummy with 'em?"

Palkia froze and paled. "I don't know; I didn't think we'd get this far."

Dialga groaned. "Can't we just go up and ask them?"

"I don't think that's how it works... here we're the nobodies and they're the big shots!"

"Then how do you suggest we-"

The quartet then heard a scream.

"Bandits! To the south!"

The group of disguised Legendaries then saw a farmer barge through the streets in panic toward the Shepherds as they quickly turned to address him.

"Bandits? In this time?" said the tall, sturdily-armored man.

"Armed burglars, sir!" Whole bunch of them headed straight for our village!"

The blue-haired man scowled. "We'll deal with them right away."

"If they're just a bunch of theives they should be no problem  for us," said his white-haied companion.

"Yeah!" said the girl, pumping her fists. "Especially if they're dumb enough to attack this close to home!"

The four of them and the farmer rushed off, leaving the multiversal visitors staring after.

"Well," said Dialga, "They certainly seem to have the problem under control themselves..."

Palkia hesitated, then grinned. "Actually, I have a plan."

"Ooh, what, sis?" said Giratina.

"We help the Shepherds with their little bandit problem."

"So we're gonna impress 'em to get 'em on our side? I like this plan."

"I'm not so keen,"  said Dialga, "didn't we agree to keep things nonlethal?"

"That's part of the plan," said Palkia, grinning. "You see..."

The four huddled together amidst the crowd. A bit later, several onlookers stopped and stared when they seemed to vanish.

The village was battened down in their houses, a few farmers armed with crude makeshift weapons outside. Even then, they knew they didn't stand a chance against the rapidly-approaching raiders.

It was then a young, pink-haired woman in some bizarre-looking white-and-pink battle dress wielding a staff with a pearl-like orb at the end stepped out into the streets almost too calmly.

"Easy boys," she said, "me and my friends have this covered. Can I just borrow a horse?"

"M-m'am, you're crazy' there's-"

"Sir, I can save your village just fine either way, but it's better with the horse."

"...There's a draft horse in the stables, but she's used for till-"

He didn't get to finish, as the woman had vanished in a warp in space and emerged atop the draft horse in question just out of range of the bandits. The horse reared in panic before Palkia calmed it with a soothing aura from her Lustrous Orb staff and addressed the bewildered men before her with a smirk.

"Now you all hold still so we can make this easy."

The bandits blinked collectively before one stepped forward to face her with a scowl.

"And what makes you think you're some one-woman army?"

Palkia gave a dismissive wave of her hand and chuckled. "Ooh, you're all so cute trying to be little bandit-wandits out to kidnap the crops and burn the women, but you're still being naughty and need to be punished..."

She pulled out and opened out a dark blue book several of the bandits backed away nervously from.

"...But first you all need a bath."

Blue Unown-like runes spiraled upward from the book as a massive wave emerged in front of Palkia and swept the bandits back. As they gasped and spluttered trying to get to their feet afterwards a chill ran down their spines as a bear roared followed by a man shouting:

"Sneak attack, Wuzzles!"

The bandits screamed as a blonde, red-eyed man emerged from nearby shrubs atop a roaring bear, slicing at each of them with his sword...

...Only for the sword strikes to miss each and every one of them by a hair's length, instead opening dimensional portals that punted them screaming through the Distortion World only to fall through a much larger portal that landed them on the ground almost out of sight of the village.

As they got to their feet, they noticed a man with shaggy blue hair and long fleshy ears fiddling with a diamond-like orb.

"Okay, so I need to change to the right form to use my pow-"

Suddenly he was enveloped in a blue, crystalline cocoon, emerging as an enormous, monstrous blue rabbit with markings and armor plating reminiscent of his dragon form.

"...I'm a bunny?!"

He recovered from his shock just in time to see the bandits fling axes and spears at him. He sighed as his eyes glowed, the weapons stopping in midair and rusting and rotting into dust within seconds.

"...Let's just get this over with."

He rushed up to each bandit and dealt them precision headbutts and kicks, sending them flying and screaming yet again into a dazed pile.

"Now we've thoroughly gotten your attention," said a voice, "let's keep it!"

A youth appeared and threw golden hoops atop the pile of bandits, each squeezing in to bind them in place. Once he was done Hoopa gave the dazed, trapped pile of bandits a wave.

"Thank you for attending this show of "How Not to Plunder a Village!" We hope for your sake it was educational."

Dialga reverted to his more humanlike form as Palkia approached on the draft horse's back and Giratina approached on Wuzzles. A few of the trapped bandits started at Wuzzles sniffing them, at which Giratina shushed him.

"Wuzzles, they are not snacks. I will get you your snacks back in town."

"Speaking of which," said Dialga, "Where are those humans Palkia said were so important anyway?"

"They should be here any minute now..." said Palkia.

Indeed, the other quartet and the farmer soon ran up to the scene only to look at it baffled.

"What in the name of the gods...?" said the blue-haired one.

"...It seems we've been beaten to our objective," said the shorter, white-haired man.

"That was already apparent, but how?" said the third, tallest man.

"Aw, phooey!" said the girl. "I hate missing out!"

~Alright, who does the introductions?~ said Hoopa telepathically.

~I'll start.~ said Palkia.

She turned to the other group.

"Oh, hey! Sorry if we messed anything up taking care of these guys!"

"It's fine!" said the farmer. "You saved our village before the Shepereds even could!"

"We're part of said Sheperds by the way," said the blue-haired man."I'm Chrom, my companions here are Robin..."

He gestures to the white-haired young man in the coat.

~He's one of my favorites!~ said Palkia to everyone in her group.

"Fredrick..."continued Chrom, guesturing to his older, taller companion, "and Lissa," guesturing to the blonde teenager.

"You certainly seem skilled from how easily you seem to have dealt with those bandits!" said Robin, looking at the multiversal group in admiration.

He then furrowed his brow. "What land are you even from, though? You certainly seem like an unusual bunch."

"We're from the esoteric faraway land of Cincinatii," said Dialga dryly.

"It's got some great views and locales and good food!" said Palkia

"The sports teams kind of suck, tho-" said Giratina.

Palkia nudged him with a foot before continuing.

"Anyway," said Palkia, "I'm Valentia, this is Quentin, this is Howard, and this is  Bartemaeus," she  said, gesturing to each of them in turn.

"Pleasure to meet you all," said Chrom, nodding.

He smiled. "And for being so helpful here... If you need a place to stay from so far off why not with us?"

Frederick raised an eyebrow. "...Mlord, this time you cannot be serious."

"Frederick, you've known Chrom far longer than I have," said Robin. "He's always serious about these things."

~Chrom's the nice one,~ said Palkia telepathically. ~He's our ace in the hole for getting in with these guys without too much trouble!~

"But... We have no records of this Cincinatti place anywhere in Yilisse! They look more like travelling circus performers than anything!"

"Hey!" said Hoopa, gesturing to his outfit. "Don't tell me this isn't stylish."

Robin looked over the pile of bandits. "If they were circus performers or enemies they wouldn't have subdued what appear to be remnants of Gangrel's army so quickly or easily..."

~Gangrel's the guy that started the war right before this peacetime. He's a douche.~, said Palkia.

"Yeah!" said Lissa. "And if they're so tough, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em!"

She scrunched her face up. "Or... The other way around. Kinda. Mabye. You get my point!"

"If we could chill with you guys that'd be pretty cool," said Giratina.

"What Howard said!" said Hoopa.

"I suppose despite my own caution I'll agree," said Dialga.

Fredrick looked between them all and sighed. "Alright... But everyone, keep an eye on these.... Cincinnatians."

Robin gave a small bow to Palkia. "It's a pleasure to have you all with us."

Palkia bowed back. "You as well."

Internally, she gave an excited fangirl squeal. We're partying with the Shepherds! This is gonna be great!

***

+1

#giratina #hoopa #fire emblem #fanfic #yangverse

[maskedlioness]

General Information

Full Na Emma Aiden Teague Name Meaning:

Emma: Germanic name meaning "whole" or "universal"1, and "embracing all"2. Reflects Emma's deep desire for wholeness in her own life, both intra and interpersonally, as well as her open, and accepting nature.

Aiden: Name of Gaelic origin, meaning fire. It was originally a pet name of the Irish name Aodh, the old Celtic god of the sun. St. Aidan was the seventh century Irish saint. People loved him for his generosity and kindness. Though the name is traditionally masculine3, it suites Emma's personality well.

Teague: Anglicized version of the Irish name Tadhg, meaning poet4, and reflective of Emma's skill with languages and words.

Other Names

Ems

Emmy

M&M

Mama Bear (by the kids at her youth center)

Aunt Em (by Dick's siblings)

Firegirl

Petite Soeur

'Ukht

Gender: Female Race: Metahuman Nationality: American..Father's heritage is Irish, Scottish, and English....Mother's heritage is Czech, Polish, and Hungarian.

Date of Birth: March 31st Citizenship: US Occupation: Youth Programs Director and Assistant Community Liaison at Hope House, a charitable foundation she helped start. Also works part time as an instructor at her Tae Kwon Do Dojang, Five Tenets Academy. Astrological Sign: Aries Height: 5'2" (1.57m) Weight: 140lbs (63.5kg) Eye Color: Brown Hair Color: Brown/Auburn Body Type:  Athletic but still slightly curvy, with an hourglass figure, though it isn't as defined. Her arms are toned with very defined muscles from training with her weapons, and her legs and thighs are strong and well defined from years of Tae Kwon Do. Her body type is mostly mesomorph, with some endomorph traits.

Outfit/Style:

She says she doesn't have a set style, but she does. Classic feminine, with an edge.

She loves mixing pieces like a lace dress with combat boots and a leather jacket, or black skinny jeans with a chiffon top.

When she's working with the youth at Hope House, she dresses pretty casually. Jeans and a tshirt with tennis shoes.

Even when dressed casually, she's still well put together since she never knows who might stop by the center

When she's not working with the kids, she wears lots of flowing dresses.

She doesn't like anything too low cut, and wears camis or tank tops under most shirts.

Favors traditionally "girly" prints like florals, as well as avian, stripes, and polka-dots.

She tends toward bright colors and pastels, and shies away from anything too dark. She doesn't wear much solid white or black.

Doesn't wear designer clothes, shops at mall stores and thrift stores.

Ballet flats are her go-to shoe in warmer months. Ankle boots are her go to in the fall and winter.

She's a master of layering, and almost always has a cardigan or some sort of jacket.. But she won't wear too many layers because she doesn't like being too warm.

She will refuse to wear anything uncomfortable. She hates wool or any fabric too scratchy.

She owns a total of two cocktail dresses and one formal gown. If she needs a dress for a charity event she rents or borrows one.

Her favorite item of clothing is her genuine leather moto jacket, which makes her feel like a badass.

Doesn't wear much jewelry, except for a birthstone pendant or a gold cross she always wears. When she wants to dress up she wears a pearl strand she got from a friend.

Physical Traits:

She is very pale skinned with rosy cheeks.

She burns easily in the sun and her arms are covered in freckles.

She has a round face and is often mistaken for younger than she is.

She has full lips with dimples and a small, turned up nose.

Her hair is fine and straight, and she usually keeps it in a chin length bob.

Fan Cast: Ginnifer Goodwin Alias: Lioness

Family:

Biological Father: Wesley Matthew Teague

Biological Mother: Margaret Gray Teague

Younger Sister (by 5 years): Jessica Ellie Teague

POWERS [Telepathy]

Official Definition: The user can read or sense another person's thoughts, as well as mentally communicate and influence the mind or thoughts of others.

Emma is skilled in both Telepathic communication and telepathic perception, meaning she can read minds as well as transmit information.

Though at first she struggled with her telepathic powers, she now rivals Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian in her ability.

Along being able to communicate telepathically, Emma also has mind control abilities similar to the Jedi Mind Trick. She is able to influence a person's mind to force them to do something, or make them want to do something. She will sometimes use this ability to stop a fight before it starts, therefore limiting the casualties.

Although she knows that her mind control abilities allow her to end a fight with the least amount of damage, she usually feels guilty after using them. She doesn't like to feel like she's playing God or taking away someone's free will.

Emma is able to create realistic illusions by uttering a single word. She taps into her target's mind and finds a word that they will associate with the illusion she wants them to see and mentally speaks the word to them.

If she speaks the word aloud, the illusion is stronger.

She is able to use this ability to instill confidence, take away pain, calm people's anxiety, or incite fear or any other emotion she chooses.

When in distress, Emma's subconscious mind is able to emit a telepathic  's.o.s' signal to call for help

With people she is very close to (family and friends), Emma is able to keep a constant telepathic link open without any effort. She is also able to sense when someone she cares about is in danger or hurt.

Emma is also skilled in telepathic combat, and is able to fight Psimon or Gorilla Grodd. She has also been able to resist fear toxin longer than most before succumbing to its effects.

She has one of the strongest minds and wills of anyone in the DCU, which is aided by her stubborness, and her faith in God.

She also possesses telepathic translation abilities, making her omnilingual. She is able to understand any language she hears or reads, and is able to retain that understanding after. This means that once she hears a language one time, she is fluent in it permanently.

POWERS [Telekinesis]

Official Definition: User can move,  manipulate, or control objects or matter with the mind.

Emma is incredibly strong with this ability and is able to manipulate objects with a weight of several tons. The largest object she's lifted is a dinner cruise ship. She is also able to lift a house.

Emma possesses the power of psionic speed, which, when coupled with her electrokinetic abilities, gives her super speed. If she wants to, she can travel fast enough to create a sonic boom, reaching near light speeds.

 She is also able to use this power to give herself super human reflexes and agility in a fight, which it makes her very difficult to catch or hit.

Emma is able to augment her own strength through the use of psionic strength and has punched a hole in a glacier and kicked down a solid cement wall.

Her ability to fly is due to her telekinesis, in conjunction with her electrokinetic powers.

She is able to telekinetically grip or bind things or people to keep them from moving.

She is able to wield weapons without touching them, and can change to course or trajectory or an object, allowing her to deflect attacks away from herself or others.

Emma can also use this power to allow her to hit any target with any weapon, without needing to see the target.

She is also able to use psionic healing to heal herself and others, though this ability is limited.

POWERS [Electrokinesis]

Official Definition: User can manipulate electricity,  allowing control over electric fields, charge carriers such as ions, electrons, protons, and positrons, as well as electromagnetic forces.

Emma is able to absorb electricity and discharge it at will.

She can heat objects with electricity and start a fire by creating an electrical spark.

She is able accelerate the healing process by giving the cells a slight electrical charge. She can do this for herself or others.

She is able to create an electromagnetic force field.

Emma can create and summon lightning.

Emma can use electricity in combat, although she rarely does, as she knows it can be deadly.

She can create electrical constructs such as restraints, barriers, or even weapons.

By charging her cells with electricity she can move at super speeds and exhibit super strength.

POWERS [Other]

Emma is a master of multiple martial arts, including Tae Kwon Do, Krav Maga, Jiu Jitsu, Kali, Karate, MMA, Aikido, Hapkido, Muay Thai, Boxing, and Judo.

PERSONALITY [INFP, Mediator]

Mediator personalities are true idealists, always looking for the hint of good in even the worst of people and events, searching for ways to make things better. While they may be perceived as calm, reserved, or even shy, Mediators have an inner flame and passion that can truly shine. Comprising just 4% of the population, the risk of feeling misunderstood is unfortunately high for the Mediator personality type – but when they find like-minded people to spend their time with, the harmony they feel will be a fountain of joy and inspiration. Being a part of the Diplomat Role group, Mediators are guided by their principles. When deciding how to move forward, they will look to honor, beauty, morality and virtue. Mediators are led by the purity of their intent, not rewards and punishments. People who share the Mediator personality type are proud of this quality, and rightly so, but not everyone understands the drive behind these feelings, and it can lead to isolation. At their best, these qualities enable Mediators to communicate deeply with others, easily speaking in metaphors and parables, and understanding and creating symbols to share their ideas. The strength of their visionary communication style lends itself well to creative works, and it comes as no surprise that many famous Mediators are poets, writers and actors. Understanding themselves and their place in the world is important to Mediators, and they explore these ideas by projecting themselves into their work. Unlike their Extraverted cousins though, Mediators will focus their attention on just a few people, a single worthy cause – spread too thinly, they’ll run out of energy, and even become dejected and overwhelmed by all the bad in the world that they can’t fix. This is a sad sight for Mediators’ friends, who will come to depend on their rosy outlook. If they are not careful, Mediators can lose themselves in their quest for good and neglect the day-to-day upkeep that life demands. Mediators often drift into deep thought, enjoying contemplating the hypothetical and the philosophical more than any other personality type. Left unchecked, Mediators may start to lose touch, withdrawing into “hermit mode”, and it can take a great deal of energy from their friends or partner to bring them back to the real world. (source)

Emma  is very compassionate and understanding, and is easily able to imagine being in another person's shoes. She is very empathetic.

She is easily able to see all sides of an issue, though she may not agree with it.

She is a good listener and 'wise beyond her years', making her the person her friends and all the children at her youth center go to for advice, or whenever they just need to vent.

She is incredibly loyal to her friends and family and will do anything to protect them.

She is quite sensitive emotionally, and can take things too personally if she's not careful.

She is prone to mood swings and tends toward emotional extremes. She also gets angry or annoyed easily, though she's careful not to show it.

She is very humble, and does not like being referred to as a 'hero'. She is also very shy and dislikes being the center of attention. These two aspects of her personality mean that as Lioness, she rarely speaks to the press and will not stick around after she saves someone. She will make sure the person is okay and then leave quickly.

She is incredibly passionate and has an inner fire, but she only burns out easily if she dedicates that energy to too many things at once

Although on the surface Emma is very happy, she has struggled a lot with depression and anxiety in the past, and still does to some degree.

She has trouble reading people without using her telepathy, which leads to a good deal of social anxiety. Because of this she does not like being around large groups or people she doesn't know well.

She is quite shy and takes a while to open up to someone, but once she does she is goofy, carefree, and bubbly.

She is a great leader, but she prefers to let someone else lead.

She has a natural mothering/nurturing instinct and will sometimes mother people who don't want it.

She is very averse to conflict and will try to avoid it if she can, tending to bottle her feelings to do so.

She is restless and needs to be active most of the time and can find it difficult to relax.

Emma goes back and forth between being either very easily distractible due to her ADHD, or having tunnel focus on a task, often becoming so engrossed in something that she will completely tune out the world around her or forget to eat.

She has difficulty asking for help because she doesn't want to be a burden.

SKILLS/HOBBIES

Emma is a very talented writer. She writes poetry and short stories in her spare time, and keeps extensive journals. She also writes grants for work.

She was fluent in four languages- English, Polish, French, and Spanish- before gaining her powers.

She's an amateur photographer, with her favorite subjects being nature and architecture. The camera she learned on was her grandfather's.

She is a diehard Chicago Blackhawks fan.

She loves to read, her favorite genre is fantasy, but she will read almost anything.

She listens to music while she works and usually ends up humming along.

She enjoys dancing, but only when nobody is watching.

She loves camping, hiking, kayaking, bonfires, basically being out in nature.

She often switches between languages when she's upset. For example, she will stub her toe and curse in French. She also does this when she's deep in concentration.

She continues to train in Tae Kwon Do

She loves to cook, even though she's not great at it.

ACHIEVEMENTS

Has been published multiple times, the first of which was at age 12 in a poetry anthology

Competed on her high school speech and debate team, winning multiple medals and helping the team make state

3rd dan black belt in Tae Kwon Do

Champion martial artist (in forms competition and board breaking)

Gold Award Girl Scout

Has completed two Outward Bound excursions

As and Bs all through school, despite a severe learning disability and ADD.

HABITS

Pushing her hair behind her ear

Bites her lip when she's concentrating

Clicking her pen or tapping her nails when she's thinking

Will press the heal of her hand to her forehead or rub the back of her shoulders when stressed

Fidgeter

LIKES

Coffee (or tea, or caffeine in general)

Chai lattes

Disney

Chicago style deep dish pizza

Hawaiian pizza

Chocolate

Roller coasters

Tiramisu

Fireworks

Just about any kind of music

Conversing on a personal level

Poetry (especially Robert Frost)

Cooking shows

Rain

Campfires

S'mores

Snow

Proving people wrong when they underestimate her

DISLIKES

Too loud or too high pitched noises

Bananas

Snakes

Ignorant or rude people. If you are mean to the waiter that's a deal breaker

Small talk

Overly spicy foods

Anything too sour

Being too warm

Having anything around her neck, like a scarf

Cats

Ticking clocks and timers

Horror movies and haunted houses

Fun houses (they creep her out)

STRENGTHS

Her compassion

Her passion and inner fire

Her kind and accepting nature

Her stubbornness and strong will

WEAKNESSES

Sometimes overly ambitious

Suffers from ADD, so she sometimes has difficulty focusing

Has a bit of a temper

She's a very black and white thinker and can trouble with "gray areas"

FEARS

Letting people down or being a burden

Being left behind or forgotten

Letting people see when she's upset or struggling with depression

Tight spaces

Not being able to breathe

OTHER FACTS

Emma has partially Martian blood, due to being saved from a car wreck by K'hym J'onnzz. K'hym cut her herself, and her blood mixed with Emma's causing a mutation.

She was trained in the art of creating illusions by Lily Grace de Sauveterre, who is one of her best friends

Her father was a police officer in Chicago and was partners with Jim Gordon. She was good childhood friends with Barbara, and very close with Jim, calling him Uncle.

Her sister is a champion gymnast, having competed all the way through college. Emma is very proud of her sister and will brag about her to anyone who will listen.

Her good friend is the first female SWAT team leader in Philadelphia's history

After gaining her powers and going on the run for a while, Emma eventually joined the Titans, helping Nightwing lead the time for a while

Her childhood nickname is Batgirl, due to an incident on a camping trip

Emma doesn't drink very often. She is a lightweight and hates the feeling of being drunk. When she does drink, she will use her powers to metabolize the alcohol out of her system.

Her first serious relationship is with Dick Grayson. He is also her first kiss

Her and Clark are close, having bonded over being from the midwest. He is like a brother to her.

She is horrible to watch detective stories because she's constantly critiquing them for being unrealistic or solving them before the end. The batfam refuses to watch those shows with her and Dick because of it

She played the violin as a child, but quit after only 3 years.

Her favorite color is purple

@maruthor

#my oc #Emma Aiden Teague #bio page #Lioness

[newstfionline]

In southeastern Colorado, robots carefully disarm WWII-era chemical weapons

Megan Geuss, Ars Technica, Feb. 26, 2017

PUEBLO, Colorado--On the dry, windswept plains of southeastern Colorado, a military checkpoint protects a vast field of igloos built with corrugated steel, covered with a thick layer of Earth, and fitted with thick, blast-resistant doors. The walls of the igloos keep the interior a consistent 51 degrees Fahrenheit whether it’s in the heat of summer or the depths of winter, and the high-altitude air has little enough water in it that corrosion-causing moisture is an afterthought.

These mounds are carefully spaced to prevent an explosion in one igloo from triggering explosions in neighboring igloos. That’s because inside, the US military stores a stockpile of 780,000 unused WWII-era munitions, filled with dangerous and deadly viscous sulfur mustard agent. This stockpile of chemical weapons was shipped to these igloos in the 1950s. They have been carefully guarded since then.

Not all chemical weapons in the US were so carefully handled. Between 1967 and 1970, the US military disposed of “thousands of tons” of chemical weapons by simply dumping them in the ocean as part of Operation CHASE (Cut Holes And Sink ‘Em), according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. In fact, the military dumped 16,000 bombs, each containing 73 pounds of chemical agent, in the ocean at a site five miles south of Pearl Harbor after World War II. In 2010, research teams decided not to move the sunken munitions because moving the bombs would be more risky than leaving them where they are.

In 1972, Congress outlawed dumping chemical weapons in the ocean, and in 1997, the US became a signatory to the Chemical Weapons Convention, an international treaty to reduce chemical weapons stockpiles. Without the option of simply dumping weaponized chemicals into the sea, incineration or neutralization was the choice on the table. Destruction plants were built around the country to reduce stockpiles. After years of planning, construction of the Pueblo Chemical Agent-Destruction Pilot Plant (PCAPP) began.

After numerous and extensive delays, the plant was finally finished in the summer of 2016. Since then, the plant has been slowly ramping up destruction of the chemical-containing munitions that had lain dormant for so long in Pueblo’s prairie igloos, which are part of the Pueblo Chemical Depot.

Bechtel, the company contracted by the US military to oversee and develop the plant, recently offered Ars a tour of the training facility that the plant uses to get its employees up to speed on this destruction process. Going to the pilot plant itself, Bechtel said, would be too risky. Still, the training facility, which sits in a nondescript warehouse park east of Pueblo, houses much of the same equipment you’d find in the real plant. There’s just a lesser risk of exposing an untrained journalist to mustard agent, of course.

Coming in contact with mustard agent, otherwise known as sulfur mustard, is extremely bad, despite the fact that it’s not immediately fatal in most cases. Although you might not experience symptoms for up to 24 hours, once you do, your skin will start itching and burning intensely until large blisters filled with yellow fluid start forming. If your eyes are exposed, they will become swollen and sore, and exposure could induce blindness for up to 10 days. If you breathe the sulfur mustard in, your lungs could blister and fill with fluid. While mild exposure can be treated, leading only to first and second degree burns, heavy exposure can cause disfiguring third degree burns. And mustard agent burns heal more slowly than other burns, leading to increased risk of sepsis.

If a large portion of your body surface area is exposed and you don’t get adequate medical treatment, you could die... in a process that can take days or weeks. On top of all that: even if you only have mild exposure, sulfur mustard is carcinogenic and can lead to increased risk of cancer later in life. (Somehow it hasn’t always been such a reviled substance: decades ago doctors prescribed sulfur mustard as a treatment for psoriasis.)

This chemical, sometimes deployed as a gas and other times deployed as a liquid, was initially used as a weapon by the Germans during WWI. British and Canadian soldiers fighting in Belgium were the first to experience the horrors associated with exposure, and the British government quickly went about developing its own chemicals. Use of chemical weapons in warfare was internationally outlawed in 1925 per the Geneva Protocol, but the US built its own stockpiles of mustard-agent-filled shells through WWII. Although by most accounts the US never deployed any of its own sulfur mustard against the axis powers, it did expose 60,000 of its own troops to chemical agents in secret experiments that singled out white, black, Japanese, and Puerto Rican soldiers. In the ‘90s, military documents were unearthed that the US had planned a poison gas attack against Japan that could have killed five million people.

An entirely uninteresting warehouse front in Pueblo, Colorado, hides a training facility for some pretty fascinating weapons destruction work.

The training facility for the Pueblo Chemical Agent Destruction Pilot Plant is 17 miles west of the actual plant. It houses working machinery that prospective employees get to practice on, as well as classrooms where dozens upon dozens of classes are taught before employees come in contact with munitions or machinery. Employees tend to be people with chemical industry experience, power plant and gas transmission station workers, veterans, or people who’ve worked on military bases before.

Plant support specialist Tom Bailey walked Ars through the process of destroying the chemical munitions. From the get-go, employees are largely remote to the disassembly process. While the projectiles are coming apart, these individuals direct robots, automatic forklifts, and other machinery from a separate building or while shielded by 24-inch-thick blast walls and guided by fiber-optically linked video cameras. In the training facility, instructors have set up a fence around the disassembly machinery to give employees a physical reminder of the boundaries they’ll have to work around.

The employees run through the process using empty munitions casings, clean of any explosives or chemicals. At Pueblo, the plant is only concerned with destroying 155mm and 105mm projectiles filled with HD (a type of sulfur mustard) and some 4.2-inch mortar bombs. That lack of variety is helpful because it reduces how versatile the site needs to be. A weapons destruction plant in Kentucky, for example, destroys many different types of weapons, including weapons that contain sarin and other nerve agents. The Kentucky plant has fewer weapons to destroy, but the variety makes everything slower.

To understand how the machinery at Pueblo destroys the chemical weapons, employees of the plant need to know how the munitions were constructed. Yes, essentially the destruction process is a finely tuned bit of reverse manufacturing. Although the Pueblo Chemical Depot has long had the ability to simply explode and incinerate these chemical weapons on site in what’s called a “static detonation chamber,” the incinerator can only destroy about six rounds a day. When you’re up against a stockpile of 780,000, that just wouldn’t do.

Instead, the incinerator is reserved for munitions that fail to meet the criteria for a more careful destruction at the Chemical Agent-Destruction Pilot Plant, like if a projectile looks like it won’t hold up on the main machinery or if the machinery is having trouble removing some of the chemicals inside a projectile. By contrast, each of the three disassembly lines in the pilot plant can theoretically disassemble 60 rounds an hour, although that decreases to an average of about 42 to 46 rounds an hour in practice when the facility is entirely up and running.

Bringing out a cross-section model of a 155mm projectile, Bailey started methodically explaining the components. Munition this heavy would usually be fired out of a large artillery piece, like a Howitzer gun. The shell of the munition would have been cold-cast in hopes that when it exploded over enemy lines, it would fracture and deploy the chemical agent. (“People like to call it mustard gas, but it’s not a gas, it’s a liquid,” Bailey explained. “It’s a heavy viscous liquid, and the object of this is for it to splash on you. It’s not aerosolized.”)

After casting the casing, manufacturers would fill it to a point with the heavy viscous chemical agent (a type of sulfur mustard classified as “HD” by the military) before hydraulically pressing a burster well into the shell. Then the explosive burster material would be fit into the burster well, and a fuse well cup would top it all off. The fuse well cup was molded such that you could screw a lifting lug into the top of the projectile for transportation purposes. “First thing the army does to get ready to use these is they remove the lifting lug and install a fuse in its place,” Bailey said. “By that time they’re finished handling it.”

Today, many of the munitions are already stored in pallets (some of the smaller ones require special packing). To get to the pilot plant, they’re loaded onto a special truck at the storage igloo, and a driver makes the barely one-mile drive from igloo to plant in what Bailey described as a “torturous” and slow fashion.

#chemical weapons #mustard gas #WWII munitions #disarming chemical weapons

[fanofawesomethings]

Halloween Run

Another commission piece for @bixbitesmeepmorps‘s Gem OC’s.

If you want a commission of your very own, message me and I will tell you my prices

Bixbite kicked the ends of her heels on the limestone outside her cave. The green forest had changed into shades of orange and red, almost overnight. The air was no longer warm and the days seemed shorter. Bixbite named this part of the year the Orange time, not knowing that the season already had a name. Like the years before, she loved to sit and watch each brittle leaf fall from its tree until the forest floor was painted with the orange and red color. But Bixbite was especially happy during that fall season because for once she had someone to share the season with.  

The wind Onyx sat on her back and watched the heavy cloud sail away. There wasn’t a particular reason why she did so; it certainly wasn’t to enjoy the pleasant calm associated with watching the clouds. Unlike most, Onyx didn’t see the beauty in staring at nothing and often times she’d have to ask Bixbite what the point of little things like cloud watching is; Onyx was artistically blind. But Bixbite wanted to sit and watch the leaves and Onyx was unable to refuse her. The minutes seemed to droll on like a slug and though she’d rather be moving something heavy or punching the boulder she always punched when she was bored, out of the corner of her eye, Bixbite was smiling with glee, so Onyx kept her boredom quiet, for her.

Bixbite would point and laugh when another leaf landed on the growing pile forming a little mountain like theirs. When Onyx snickered to humor her, Bixbite’s smile grew. Onyx followed suit by pointing to a cloud she watched and asking Bixbite what it looked like to her. Bixbite’s answers were always better than hers so at some point Onyx gave up trying.

Onyx tapped Bixbite’s butt which startled her like a jolt of lightning, unpredictably so. While she found it interesting to know another of Bixbite’s secret weakness, Onyx did it to get Bixbite’s hand. Small and dainty magenta hands were swallowed by strong yet gentle black hands.

Before both of them knew it, the sun reached the peak of the sky and began to reseed to the mountains. The tree Bixbite watched lost half of its leaves and the cloud Onyx watched changed from being the shape of a wolf to a lumpy crab. It hardly felt like hours to them.

“Do you want to do something else?” Bixbite asked, finally breaking the calm silence.

Onyx basked in the warmth of her Bixbite’s hand and the softness of her hair which caressed her hand when the wind pushed it. Truthfully if Bixbite asked her this question a couple of hours ago, Onyx’s response would be to immediately suggest something physical, maybe training. But sitting in blissful tranquility did wonders to change her mind so all she could think about what sitting next to Bixbite—forever if she could.

“Let’s stay like this for a little while longer,” said Onyx.

“You don’t want to train, or punch something, or try that thing we tried last time?”

Onyx choked on nothing, caught off guard by the last thought. “I think I’m starting to get the hang of this ‘doing nothing’ idea you had,” she said. She gave Bixbite a small wink. “But you know, I’d be in the mood if you wanted to start again.”

Bixbite blushed despite suggesting it herself. Her lips inched to say yes, a moment that was changed when all of a sudden the two were startled. Rustling in the forest echoed in the sereneness, making the rustling thunderous as it drew closer. In addition to the forest brush being parted they heard the ground being cut as though a chainsaw struck the earth. They didn’t recognize it at first glance but it wasn’t until the sound drew closer, and they could see the spinning purple sphere, that Onyx and Bixbite could drop their guard.

The splicing sphere form of Amethyst collided with the bottom of the mountain below them. Colliding with the limestone with her strength and speed, the top of Amethyst’s head made an indent on the stone. She wobbled backwards holding her head in a silly fashion.

“Whoa that was a hard stop. Err, sorry about dent in your house,” said Amethyst casually as an attempt to make the collision seem like part of a joke. Bits of rubble fell out of her hair.

“Hello Amethyst,” greeted Bixbite.

“Oh yeah, the short Amethyst,” said Onyx, only vaguely remembering her. “What are you doing here?”

“Geez, what’s with that greeting? Hey, big Onyx with the giant shoulder pads. We came to check up on ya’, of course.”

“We?” Bixbite repeated.

Amethyst climbed the mountain to reach them and put her arms around Bixbite. She squeezed Bixbite tightly and then scurried behind her like a mischievous cat to play with her long, magenta hair. Reasons had nothing to do with it; Amethyst simply loved running her hands through Bixbite’s soft hair and playing with its excessive length.

“Yeah, Steven and Pearl were way too slow for me so I had to leave ‘em in my dust,” she grinned.

“Steven’s coming!” Bixbite cheered.

“The Pearl is coming?” Onyx griped.

“Yup. We’re gonna do this thing that happens every year where people dress up like weird things and get free candy,” explained Amethyst, grabbing a strand of hair and putting it over her lip to look like she had a mustache.

“What’s candy?” Bixbite asked.

“No way, you’ve never eaten candy before?! It’s way weird. Sometimes they’re hard, other times they are all chewy, sometimes they get stuck in my teeth. They’re super good and humans just give you them for free today!”

“So you eat too? Gems don’t need to eat,” said Onyx.

           “Come on, you sound like Pearl. If you wanna eat, just eat, that’s what I think,” said Amethyst.

           Onyx balled her hand, very displeased about being compared to Pearl.

The bushes up head rustled. Onyx groaned, for up until this point she had been enjoying her day alone with Bixbite and then before she knew it she has to deal with the Pearl she disliked more than every human on Earth, combined. But Onyx’s dislike for Pearl mattered little to Bixbite who was just excited to see her friend—she was confident enough to let her guard down knowing Onyx wouldn’t pick a fight.

“Bixbite, Onyx!” Steven’s voice rang from the brush. Bixbite stood up to greet him.

           The green parted and Steven emerged, but looking differently than Bixbite remembered, much to her horror. Steven’s pinkish skin had turned gray, his hair was covered with white streaks, red outlining his mouth, and white rib bones exposed on his stomach. His clothes were torn apart, some tears were painted red. Steven had his arms extended in front of his chest as he moaned, a ghoulish moan. Everything about his appearance fired a surge of fear into Bixbite and she screamed loud, running immediately behind Onyx while continuing to scream. Onyx herself raised her guard to protect herself and her friend. Tears showed on Bixbite’s eyes as she trembled.

           “S-S-S-S-Steven i-i-i-s a-a-a m-monster!” Bixbite cried.

           Steven and Amethyst looked at each other puzzled, both discovering that she was serious.

           “Bixbite, it’s okay, I’m fine,” said Steven. He padded the side of his bare stomach and rubbed the rib bone off, revealing it was nothing but white paint. “It’s just my costume.”

           Bixbite peeked from behind cover.

           “Oh, Steven, you messed your makeup again. Really, if you insist on being this ‘zoombie’ thing, you should at least make sure you stay in character,” said Pearl, coming up behind him.

           Pearl raised both her index fingers to her Gem and closed her eyes in concentration. A little circle cup of white makeup appeared and she diligently reapplied it to the spot where Steven had rubbed off. Onyx shot Pearl a disgust look as she painted.

           “It’s nice to see you again, Bixbite,” said Pearl, and stopping there. Bixbite was still unsure of Steven’s costume so she didn’t respond.

           Steven tapped his stomach. “See, nothing to be scared of, it’s just a part of Halloween.”

           “Hahllowine? Is it the thing Amethyst was talking about where you get candy?” Bixbite sniffled.

           “Yeah that! But you gotta be dressed up like a weirdo,” said Amethyst.

           “We came to ask you two if you wanted to come along,” said Steven.

           Onyx pointed to Pearl, intentionally meaning to be rude. “So why is she here then?”

           “Pearl’s our chaperone. Garnet couldn’t come, even though I had such a good costume in mind for her,” said Steven with a sigh of disappointed because he had a plan to dress her in a witch’s gown whose red and blue colors were split down the middle.

           “I could’ve been your guard if you asked me first. There’s not really any need for two,” said Onyx.

           Pearl made no face in response, choosing not to humor Onyx. Her ability to ignore annoyance, no matter how big, was a trait that took years of living with Amethyst to master. The tension between them was still as dense as it was when they first met, the only difference Bixbite, Steven and Amethyst could tell was that neither one was getting ready to cut the other down—some restraint was shown.

           “S-So, do you guys want to come?” Steven asked, feeling the awkwardness.

           “That might be fun, but we don’t have any coostumes,” said Bixbite

           Steven grinned proudly to Peal who sighed with a smile of her own. He predicted this would happen and asked Pearl to hold their costumes, which at the time she didn’t believe they’d need. Pearl touched her forehead with both hands and two orbs of lighting stretched out, molding and growing until they took their original shape and fell into Steven’s arms. He held them out in front of them.

           “Bixbite you get the orange one and Onyx you get the gray one,” said Steven, handing their individual costume.            Both looked at each other at a loss at what they were supposed to do with the clothes. They figured it out as they went inside the cave to change while the others waited outside. In the dark cave, neither could see each other’s costume, and it would remain a mystery to each other until they finished. Amethyst kicked her feet on the ground as she laid her head on the limestone, bored after a while. Steven paid close attention to how the sun began to set, the opportune time to start trick-o-treating, he thought, was soon impending. Finally the two emerged from the shadows to an audience who awed at their appearance.

           Bixbite wore a sunset orange leotard-esque outfit with a fluffy skirt around her waist that was made up of brown and green leaves. Leaves and twigs were scattered around the suit with thin yet sparkling veils over her arms that reached to her palms. The costume came with accessories—a crown of bright orange and red flowers with red berries strung in between them, four elongated twigs that Bixbite placed in the middle of the crown on top of her head, and smaller pink flowers as clips that hung to her hair like a forest floor. She had a difficult time wearing the forest flip-flops the costume demanded; she wiggled her bare toes against the strap, uncomfortable.

           Onyx was comparably not as impressive. Her costume was a knight’s outfit, but it was far from the real thing. She had slipped into a body suit with most of the armor painted on the surface. Foam grieves, gauntlets and shoulder, and a cheap red rag as a cape completed the lackluster look. Steven was incredibly disappointed looking at the costume now, especially with how Bixbite’s turned out. Onyx, however, didn’t notice how pathetic her costume looked; she was immediately stricken by Bixbite’s new appearance.

           “Hey you know, you should tie up your long hair, girl,” suggested Amethyst sneaking up behind Bixbite.

           “You think so?” She wondered. Because of all the things pinned to her hair, for the first time Bixbite considered the thought.

           “Here, lemme help you out,” grinned Amethyst.

           Amethyst grabbed two handfuls of Bixbite’s hair, but even that wasn’t enough to contain the massive length. Onyx watched liked a slack jawed buffoon, expectant to see the outcome of Amethyst playing. Nothing came to mind until suddenly Amethyst got an idea and was quick to make it a reality. While attention was off them, Steven whispered into Pearl’s ear and she reluctantly compiled with the request, just as Amethyst stepped away from her finished work.

           Half of Bixbite’s hair was free and wild as it always was, but using the costume’s clips to disconnect them, Amethyst tied an array of pigtails using the ends of her hair. But she soon realized she wasn’t finished. Amethyst ran to Bixbite’s sides and tied two long strands around her neck like a necklace. The last strand behind her ear that bothered Amethyst tied behind her head like a ring. Onyx couldn’t look away.

           “Yeah, I got the hair moves,” Amethyst said to the speechless Onyx. She pushed her to Bixbite.

           Onyx was extremely unprepared to face Bixbite then. Her face was blushing.

           “Do you like it?” Bixbite inquired.

           “You’re beautiful! I—I mean i-it looks nice,” said Onyx, exploding at first. Bixbite blushed which only sent Onyx into a flurry of emotions.

           Metal pieces clanked as they fell to the ground, startling everyone and immediately breaking the mood. The individual pieces of the white armor proved to be too heavy for Steven to carry and they fell on him like dead weight while he crumbled beneath them. Pearl, the one who summoned each piece, jolted to his aid.

           “Steven—oh my gosh—are you alright?!” She threw the chest piece, the biggest part, off his with one arm. Onyx caught the flying part.

           Steven raised his thumb, weakly. “I’m good!”

           Onyx saw herself in the crystal clear reflection, behind a symbol of an eagle the chest plate bore. Beneath the eagle was a sun and below that were two large stars.

           “What’s this?” Onyx asked.

           “It’s your costume, Onyx. This one is way better than that one!” Steven proclaimed. “This one is an actual knight’s armor Pearl had in her Gem.”

           Onyx looked at Pearl with odd perplexity. “You keep an entire suit of armor inside your Gem?”

           “I like to see it as being prepared for anything. Do you want the suit or not? Unless you’re content with looking absolutely ridiculous,” said Pearl.

           Onyx only then realized how ridiculous she actually looked. Bitterly she had no choice but to take the pieces of shimmering white armor. But not before tearing the flimsy bodysuit off her with a single tug, unaware that Steven had paid money for it and he could’ve easily returned it. Trying the leather straps to her body, tightening the armor pieces until they pressed on her muscles, and carrying the immense weight of steel felt nostalgic to the warrior Gem. She never wore armor when fighting, but she didn’t think any less of the Gems who did. As she the suit was fully guarding her body, Onyx ignored the memories of war to be in the mountain, with Bixbite.

           Sharing her friend’s reaction, Bixbite couldn’t hold a thought or a word when she saw Onyx in her costume. The black Gem’s large muscles made the armored plates bulge out and the chainmail greaves stood out prominently with the great build underneath; the crystal sheen on the metal gave Onyx a glisten like stardust that worked well with her nature beauty—at least it was what Bixbite seemed to think. She didn’t say any of her thought out loud, but Onyx guessed from her mindless drooling that Bixbite liked the costume; she blushed.

           “Alright, everyone, let’s go trick-o-treating! Mwahahahahaha!” Steven imitated a nefarious laugh befitting a mad scientist, though the same effect wasn’t apparent with his size or voice.  

             “Mwahahahaha!” Amethyst mimicked with a stronger voice.

           Pearl refused to take part.

             Bixbite and Onyx were given a small treat before they got their candy. When the group of Gems reached the nearest Warp Pad they teleported to inside Steven’s house, where the two new Gems were finally given a chance to see a new setting. There were so many simple things that would surely capture Bixbite’s attention for hours, but time was of the essence according to Steven and they could only stay for a minute to get shopping bags and then leave. Bixbite extended her neck so she could see more as she was being led out the door; she managed to see the TV and the coach, which was accompanied by Garnet who waved goodbye as they left. While Bixbite was disappointed she didn’t get to see more, what awaited her outside was even better.

           A glare hit the side of Bixbite and Onyx’s eyes when they stepped out onto the wooden patio outside Steven’s house. The citrine-colored glow of the setting sun was mirrored on the azure surface of the ocean. Bixbite and Onyx froze. Where the sun went after it set over their mountain had been a mystery to both of them—for Bixbite it remained a mystery for as long as she lived in the mountain. In addition to the setting sun, the unfamiliar Gems threw their mouths open at the ocean, an endless area that was as vast as the valley behind their mountain but painted blue. Steven gave them the time they needed to indulge.

           With a few coercing pushes to get Bixbite and Onyx moving again, the group of Gems made their way to the boardwalk. Everything around them was new to Bixbite and Onyx and to Steven, Amethyst and Pearl it felt like they were leading them on a tour of the city rather than a walk to the houses. While Bixbite walked forward as she spun like a top, Steven led the group to a blue house at the end of the boardwalk. This house wasn’t decorated and there wasn’t anyone out in the frontyard despite the garage door being open.

           “Hey Onion, we’re here! Let’s get going!” Steven shouted.

           “What’s an Onion?” Onyx asked.

           “He’s my friend Vidalia’s kid and Steven’s buddy,” said Amethyst.

           Onyx gave a look of disgust. “Humans have weird names.”

           A light on the second story window lit up and a shadow moved inside, most likely Onion. The group waited outside, a silence on the group during the short moment waiting. Behind them a whisper so sly it was carried by the breeze so none of them could hear it. A figure, draped in a long black cloak that touched its knees, wearing a mask of a face turned upside down, an eerie sight that crept up behind them. None of them heard its advances until its thin hand rose up with boney fingers. Bixbite saw a shadow creep on her shoulder and she turned around; for that moment she was unable to scream as the figure grabbed Amethyst’s shoulder with a pinch.

           “GAAAAAAAH!” Amethyst shrieked.

           “AAAAAAH!” Steven shouted in response.

           “WHAAA?!” Pearl jumped hearing Steven scream.

           “HEYAAAAAAH!” Bixbite was the loudest scream out of all of them, which in turned caused Onyx to suddenly pick her guard up.

           The series of screams was triggered by the mask figure who upon seeing the fruits of her devilish prank revealed herself to be Vidalia.

           She laughed, wiping a tear from her eye. “Man, for a Gem warrior you get scared really easily.”

           “Do not!” Amethyst denied. “What’s with the mask, Vidalia? Your normal face is scary enough.”

           “I’m headed to Sour Cream’s Halloween rave so I needed a good enough costume.” The older woman then noticed the extra two Gems, one of which, Bixbite, was hiding behind the other. “Wow, you got some new friends? Gonna give me an introduction?”

           “Yeah, that red one’s Bixbite and the big beefy one is Onyx. We helped them out with some serious Gem biz, you know how it goes.”

           Vidalia went up to Onyx who was a great deal larger than the mature woman. She invaded her personal space to analyze the Gem’s face clearly. Onyx looked cornered, not knowing how to respond to a human staring so intensely at her.

           “You got muscles for days, big gurl. I could use you to move some stuff next weekend. I won’t pay you though,” said Vidalia.

           Onyx had too many questions to single one out.

           Vidalia passed her to get to the magenta Gem hiding behind. Without the creepy mask, Bixbite felt a little comfortable peeking out of her guardian’s back but she was still apprehensive. And just like with Onyx, Vidalia scanned Bixbite intensely.

           “Sick hair color, gurl,” said Vidalia. “Back in my hay day I tried to get that shade but I always got red or pink. You’re lucky, Beet. It’s what I’m gonna call ya’ since you look like a big ol’ beet.”

           “What’s a beet?” Bixbite poked her head out of her cover like a gopher.

           “Geez, you make the lamest nicknames,” said Amethyst.

           “And I’m callin’ you Olive,” she said to Onyx who didn’t get the name either.

           Onion, the smallest of all Steven’s friends, emerged from his house wearing only a blank, white face with eye holes as a costume. He stood like a statue and waited for their responses; his costume didn’t trigger fear in any of them, but it did send a freezing chill down their spines.

           “L-Let’s get going,” said Steven, hesitant to take Onion’s hand to keep him close.

           “Keep all ten eyes on this little imp, and have him back before midnight,” said Vidalia. She patted the top of his head. “Don’t give ‘em too much trouble.”

           Onion nodded. Vidalia slipped her mask back on and waved her hands in an overly spooky manner as she retreated into the garage.

           “Get ready, Bixbite and Onyx, we’re about to finally get the candy,” said Steven.

           Bixbite got over her fright for the sake of the delicious treats she’d been promised.

           With the final member added to their roster, Steven and the others were finally headed to the houses on the other side of the street. However, others had the same idea Steven had for the ideal time to start trick-o-treating. As they made their way they heard crowds of doorbells being rung and doors being knocked. Onion pulled away from Steven and rushed around the corner. Steven took Bixbite and Pearl’s hands and pulled them. Bixbite smiled with anticipatory enjoyment. That is, until they rounded the corner.

           Vampires. Ghouls. Mummies. Evil clowns. Werewolves. Aliens. An wide assortment of costumes on people ranging from small to huge, all in a cluster moving from one house to the next. Bixbite was petrified immediately. Her wildest nightmares could not compare. So many scary things all around her, each one invoked a fear that she didn’t even know what there. Steven felt Bixbite’s hand suddenly go limp; he looked back to see her eyes blasted open. Her throat grew with the impending scream she was about to let loose. Steven’s shocked expression caused the others to become aware of Bixbite’s impending scream. She panted rapidly and swallowed the air she needed. Everyone scrambled to calm her, but they were too late. Bixbite let out an earth shattering scream that was quickly muffled when Onyx slapped her hands over Bixbite’s mouth almost instinctively. Bixbite had the chance to let out all her fright and Onyx’s quick thinking prevent it was becoming an incident.

           “Bixbite, its okay, everyone’s in costume! None of it is real,” said Steven. Bixbite was still in mid-scream so they waited until all of the air had been exhaled out of her body before explaining things.

           “Relax, Beet Bix, there are no monsters here that can get ya’,” said Amethyst.

           Bixbite sniffled behind Onyx’s hand—she wasn’t convinced of her safety. Onyx saw all of the excitement Bixbite at the start of the new adventure had left her; her expression now read her hurry to get back to the cave and hide. A knife cleaved Onyx’s stomach seeing Bixbite so miserable. Suddenly, Onyx lifted Bixbite off the ground and into her arms.

           “I’ll hold you the entire way, I’ll keep you safe, Bix,” said Onyx.

           The color returned to Bixbite’s face, along with some additional shades of bright red. They were caught in each other’s eyes; their faces inched closer to each other, completely ignoring the audience they had. Steven blushed and Pearl had to cover his and Onion’s eyes. It was only when Onyx felt Bixbite’s gentle breath hit her lips that Pearl cleared her throat to remind them they were still there.

           “Not in front of the children, you two, please,” commanded Pearl.

           Bixbite and Onyx shared the same flustered look like they had made a big mistake. Onion pulled away and ran to the nearest house.

           “Bixbite, Onyx, there’s our first house. When I ring the door bell you gotta say ‘Trick-o-Treat’, okay,” Steven instructed.

           Bixbite understood the steps clearly enough, but there wasn’t any way she saw herself getting down from inside Onyx’s arms, for more reasons than being afraid of the monsters around her. Thankfully the house Onion picked for them was at the start of the block and the other costume children had long since visited it. Onyx ducked her head and squeezed her body tight closed to fit on the patio. Onion rang the doorbell. The owner, a small old lady, must’ve been nearby because the door opened fairly quickly.

           “Oh my, such scary youngins,” said the lady in a weak voice that matched her poor eyesight.

           “Trick-o-Treat, ma’am,” said Steven politely.

           “Gimme my candies!” Amethyst commanded.

           “Trice or Teet!” Bixbite said, misunderstanding what exactly Steven said before. Onyx wasn’t going to say it.

She adjusted her thick, golden glasses. “Two strapping young lads and three pretty young ladies.”

           “Ladies? We’re Gems,” said Onyx, taking it as an insult.

           “Kids these days and their costumes, it’s hard for an ol’ lady like me to keep up.” She reached behind the door and picked up her candy bowl and handed Onion and Steven a handful of candy. “Don’t go eatin’ all your candy tonight. Thas what I did thirty or twenty teeth ago.”

           The handful of candy landed at the bottom of Bixbite’s empty shopping bag. It was only a few wrapped single flavor hard candy, what looked like a single popcorn kennel, and a mini bar of chocolate; Onyx got the same. Bixbite poked her head inside to see the wrapped sweets glistening like treasure; she didn’t know what any of the brand names meant, what the candies were, and what exactly she was meant to do with them other than eat them, but she was happy to receive them. She looked to see if Onyx shared her happiness in receiving candy, but Onyx’s response was a bit more complex.

Onyx was just as oblivious as Bixbite towards what the purpose of the candy was. They looked like the same pieces of trash that she’d previously seen piling up in Jason’s trashcans. They weren’t weapons or anything interesting that would make her excited. And yet, Steven showed his candy to Onion with a bright smile on his face and Bixbite’s eyes widened with joy. The joy of the candy was easy to them but an enigmatic mystery to her. Bixbite quickly unwrapped her mini bar of chocolate and held it to Onyx’s lips. She awkwardly munched on the mini edge, but oblivious once again as to what made it “good” as the others often said when eating. Bixbite giggled because of bit of chocolate hung on Onyx’s lips; she took it off Onyx and ate it, smiling back. Onyx smiled too.

“Honestly you bunch and your food. I will never understand it,” said Pearl.

“What, don’t you want some Pearl?” Amethyst tore the wrapped of four of her six pieces of candy, mashed them together in a ball of various colors and held the ball of sugar at Pearl’s face. “Come on, P, its good!”

           Pearl backed away. “Oh no, Amethyst, don’t you dare get that thing close to me!”

           “It’s full of sweetie goodness!”

           Amethyst chased Pearl around the street like a cat and mouse, holding out the ball of candy which she used as a weapon against her. Finally Amethyst made Onyx laugh, at Pearl’s expense of course.

The night went by before any of them noticed, which was often the case when they had fun. Steven and the others visited every door they could, collecting candy that quickly made their shopping bags heavier than they were. The sun had long since set and the moon was out by the time their bags were halfway full. When they couldn’t carry the heavy load any longer they gave them to Onyx who held them and Bixbite the entire night; it was Onion who originally threw his bag on Onyx when it got too heavy for him. Sweat from too much walking had begun to wet the makeup on Steven’s body; for an autumn night it wasn’t at all cold. The last of the houses within a good walking distance was hit and the group rested on the block curve to catch their breaths while children much younger than Steven were still going strong.

“Kids these days, I’ll never understand where they get their energy from,” said Steven trying his best to sound like an old prune.

“It’s gettin’ kind late. Didn’t Vidalia say she wanted him to be back before midnight?” Amethyst reminded.

“Oh yeah, that’s right! We really should be getting back now,” said Steven. “Come on, On—”

Steven trailed off when he discovered his little friend wasn’t seated next to him. His head swished to his left but only found Amethyst where she’d always been. He looked behind him and even out in front of them. No Onion to be seen.

“Onion!” Steven called out.

No answer, not that he half expected one.

“Guys! Onion’s gone!”

“What?!” Pearl squawked. She too looked around. “I-I wasn’t even paying attention!”

“No way! Vidalia’s gonna kill us!” Amethyst shouted.

“Your little friend?” Bixbite asked.

“What’s the big deal? He can probably find his way back,” said Onyx.

“Of course he can’t, he’s a little human!” Pearl barked at her.

Onyx stood up to meet her challenging stance. Before a new problem came, a shiver ran down Onyx’s spine. Her hairs stood on end and her body locked in place as though the chill that tickled her spine had also frozen her.

“—off,” Onyx muttered.

“What’s wrong, Onyx?” Bixbite inquired.

“Get this thing offa me!” Onyx cried.

The group looked around her massive frame to see a creature latched onto her back like a beetle. Onion climbed her back while attention was drawn away and Onyx only noticed him after he began to poke her Gem. He grabbed it with his tiny palms and even tried to pull it out.

           “Off! Get him off! Get him off! OFF!” Onyx pleaded.

           Bixbite picked Onion off her friend and held him with perplexity. He wriggled free and quickly retreated behind Steven. Meanwhile Onyx hadn’t loosened, her face sweating and her face completely pale.

           Pearl, Amethyst, and even Bixbite shared a mischievous grin with devilish intent brightening their eyes. They discovered Onyx’s fear and they weren’t about to let her forget it or that night.

#steven universe #steven universe au #au #writing #bixbite #fanfiction #fan fiction #commission