#I AM RUNNING CIRCLES AROUND MY ENCLOSURE FOR REAL

[ima-mezz]

Let it be known I am actually obsessed with the differences and similarities in each Sherbert

Due to recent things I’ve been very much looking at hc!Sherb and Icarus. Specifically how both of them react to quixis stuff.

Icarus gets fully into it they want to save themself and the world around them from quixis no matter what it takes even if that includes putting complete faith in their father who has promised to be able to take it away, even if it means killing people. Even if it means other worlds are suffering. They have suffered so much by quixis’s hand the other worlds can figure it out themselves.

And then there’s Sherbert who’s in an entirely different world with no idea why or how they got there. Why they can die. They’ve gone through world after world, alone. But the world they’re in now means something. And it’s being messed up. By icarus. By quixis. They are confused and frustrated and scared. But they refuse to do anything that can make it worse. They would rather the holes and the wack to continue at a steady rate than ever risk making it worse for some other world. For some other version of them.

There’s just something about it ya know

#I hold them in my little hands so hard #I didn’t mean for this post to be this long actually but it’s chill #I have so many things to say about them #AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON IRL STUFF RIGHT NOW #I AM RUNNING CIRCLES AROUND MY ENCLOSURE FOR REAL #fsmp #fable smp #sherbertquake56

[nowandevermore]

Find the Word Tag

Thank you, @j-1173 for the tag!!

My words are: Laugh, Smile, Tap, Kick, and Cry

Received another one of these, but just didn't have any of the words in my works. 🥲🙃 But here I am now!

Open tag for anyone who wants to participate!! And tagging @lmaoirrelevant, @void-of-many-colours, @writingpotato07, and @perasperaadastrawriting.

Your words are: Time, Again, Them, Need, and Cold

Laugh — Answers Buried in Time: This is Reset

Ash looks down to see blue eyes staring back at him, a small, weak smile lighting his face. The young man lifts a hand to Ash's face — tears drip down the trainer's face as he chokes out a laugh.

It's over.

They did it.

Smile — At the Age of Now

At the age of 25, Ash asks Goh to marry him. 

Goh says yes. 

Ash takes him to their favorite ramen shop. It's everything Ash wants in life — sitting across from the man he loves and watching the warm light above him dance around Goh's pretty face. Ash doesn't think he'll ever get tired of seeing it. The smile is genuine, and it brings Ash joy to know he is the reason behind it. 

Ash wishes he had done this earlier — still doesn't quite understand why it took so long. 

But at the age of now;

It's perfect.

Tap — Answers Buried in Time: Epilogue

Goh looks to his left and sees Hisuian Zoroark; smiling, he talks to the fox. "Thank you, Zoroark. Thank you for everything today and for the last month… I wouldn't have found the Hall of Memories without you." Goh glances back at Ash who nods with a smile. "Do you want to join me? Join us?"

The Baneful Fox Pokémon looks between both men, yellow eyes locking on Ash's for a moment longer before it nods. Goh grins widely and pulls out an Ultra Ball; he holds it up to Zoroark.

The fox reaches a clawed hand out and taps the center circle of the pokéball. Red energy flows from the Ultra Ball and surrounds the fox — it draws it into its enclosure, a ping fills the air as Goh's Pokédex rings…

"Hisuian Zoroark has been registered to your Pokédex."

Kick — Answers Buried in Time: Static

He's here…

No, it can't be.

but maybe it is.

Now, he has to know. His feet leave the ground before he knows it, and he runs toward the voice in the dark. Goh hastily wipes away his tears with the sleeve of his shirt, and the man gulps as he takes a leap across the darkness below.

He is finding out what this means. 

Whatever it takes. 

Thin fingers reach out to grip at a sharp edge in the pitch black, grasping tightly when the edge turns out to be real. Goh struggles to pull himself up, grunting as he tries to kick for anything underneath him. He looks up for the hand that reached out before, but it’s gone. Goh gulps and shakily looks below him.

It's empty. 

Suddenly, the forest behind him disappears, and Goh is alone. Left by himself to clamber up a small embankment that may lead to nothing. 

Goh will never know, though as is the way of the gods...

His fingers slip, as if yanked from their perch, and Goh… falls.

·

.

Into nothing. 

Into everything.

Cry — Sparks

It's something Ash doesn't recall ever feeling with someone else before. He cares about all of his friends, there is no mistaking that, but Goh is just… Goh. And for whatever reason, it's enough.

Ash doesn't need more. 

So, he holds his arms out to offer a hug. Maybe Goh will turn it down, maybe he won't — but if he does, then Ash will find another way to offer comfort. 

He's spared from thinking about option B when Goh slowly peels himself away from the railing, and finds his way into Ash's embrace. The teen doesn't cry, but Ash swears he hears a sniffle. Arms tighten around Goh, trying to offer a safe space from the cold world.

#find the word #tag games #friends #ao3 journeys #ao3 pokemon

[bebblejooce]

Casey Michael So Real.

CW for stalking and obvious death, gore and blood mentions <3

Casey P.O.V

I’ve always been watching you.

I’ve always paid close attention to your patterns.

The way your fingers wrap around your knife.

The way you breathe through your pale, rubber mask.

The way you melt into the darkness.

How your chest rises and falls while you sleep.

Every waking moment of my day was spent studying you. Until we escaped, of course. You chose to let me go, to take advantage of my offer in your time of need. You knew how deeply rooted my obsession was, what i would do to ensure you were satisfied, and you used it.

That feeling began to fade once I got my own home. You wouldn’t let me stay with you. It suddenly struck that you couldn’t care less about me as I scrubbed the blood stained floorboards. Alone. I didn’t mind, I didn’t care if you were using me, I wanted to be useful. After spending so much time locked away I guess I needed to feel wanted in some capacity. Even if it meant I got nothing in return. Especially if it was you.

I guess it didn’t fade completely, but i certainly wasn’t as bad as before.

Your patterns started changing, you didn’t come around much anymore. I was fine with that, I was fine with living the somewhat normal life i never got to have. I was fine with making real friends who cared for me, who wanted me to be happy for once.

But as soon as they came, they were gone. I didn’t get a single reason why, I was completely clueless. I blamed myself, I’ve never socialized before. It’s hard to find the right things to say after being locked up your whole life. I wonder if you feel the same.

I don’t know what i did wrong.

It didn’t click that you were the one behind their deaths until I saw you in the doorway. You’re just barely shrouded by the darkness, I can see the reflection of your bloodied kitchen knife. You wanted me to notice you.

You wanted me to be afraid.

I am.

You want me to yell or scream or show some verbal sign of distress.

But of course, I’m not angry. I’m not upset. But you don’t know that.

You can’t read whats going on in my mind, all you can see is the look on my face. You keep staring from beneath the dark pits of your mask, as if you’re drinking in my pain. Savoring every vulnerable moment, knowing that I’m all yours. I have nobody else to run to.

I’ve been fantasizing something like this, Michael. I’ve been waiting so, so long. It paid off, all of that effort to get closer to you in any way that I could. All of the begging and pleading, the copious amount of people i’ve killed, all of it was for you. My heart is beating out of my chest, the room is spinning, i’m terrified.

And I love it.

Michael P.O.V

You’re insufferable.

I remember the years at the sanitarium. How you would watch me through the bars of your enclosure, like a caged animal just waiting to break free. You knew my schedule, when I would be escorted to Loomis, when I would return, when I would do absolutely anything.

You talked and talked for hours despite my lack of response, you never knew when to shut up. It was dreadful listening to your voice every single day, I couldn’t think, but I listened.

I listened to how you would make up responses for me despite them never being correct, how you never failed to talk about something stupid or unimportant. It was strange, nobody had ever spoke to me as if I were a person. I’m not. I never will be. Your one-sided conversations could never break the barrier I had in place, but some of your words did seep through the cracks.

I knew when to time my escape, they were foolish to put me on that bus. Of course, you were there too, sitting beside me. But you didn’t blabber, you didn’t talk in circles, you were content just being in my presence. It’s weird.

You followed alongside me, I was getting sick of it. I didn’t have the time or patience to tend to you or listen to you. I snapped, I slammed you against the wet metal of the crash site. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even scream.

You smiled.

It caught me off guard, I loosened my grip on you. You took the chance to speak, to offer me a deal of some sort. You knew I was well aware of your obsession, so I took advantage of it. I was going to build myself up while using you as a stepping stool. Then, once I finished, I was going to rip you apart. You didn’t seem to mind.

As we rode towards Haddonfield, you still never uttered a word. You were happy with me, like a puppy and it’s owner. You didn’t need words to express that.

Slowly I began to reciprocate.

I didn’t like it.

I felt weak for the first time in years.

I tried time and time again to bring myself to end you, to watch my knife tear through your pretty flesh. I wanted to, I wanted to watch your blood drain from your perfect body- but i couldn’t.

I distanced myself so you wouldn’t know, I wanted to observe you from the safety of the shadows. I liked watching you walk alone at night knowing someone was watching, it was always me.

I liked knowing you were looking over your shoulder. You couldn’t see me, but I was there. I was always there. I couldn’t leave you unprotected, vulnerable to the world around you.

Soon enough I was able to enter your home. You were forgetful, always leaving a door or window unlocked. It was easy entry for me, I always locked it for you before i left.

I would rummage through your things, taking whichever possession had your scent on it. It was addicting, disgustingly sweet like that perfume you use. I loved it.

I would steal from you a lot, smuggling clothes or books or whatever you’d assume you misplaced; and it worked. Sometimes i’d even leave a piece of myself behind, like dropping a stolen bracelet into your jewelry box. You never noticed.

Now as I stare through your window, I know I can’t keep this up forever. I like watching you wriggle free from your latex top, I like to take in every moment you show your figure off.

I don’t like when you hide yourself away from me, I want to see more of you.

I need more of you.

I shattered the glass, it gave me plenty of time to slip through your back door. I’m surprised you didn’t hear me come in, you have to be more careful.

I’m standing in your doorway, blood dripping onto the white carpet of your room. Of course, you saw me, you know im there. Your yellow eyes are piercing, almost as if they can see right through my mask.

You look terrified.

You’re alone.

You have nowhere to run.

I love it.

[andraaste]

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 13

Thing promised, thing due ! It’s not your daily maana but chapter 13 of I am not your enemy which is available !

Happy reading 😉

(there's a joke that unfortunately doesn't work in English, don't be too mad on this handsome vampire please)

Chapter 13 : You always trusted him

Realizing immediately that something was wrong, the dragon eyed me worriedly, totally hypnotizing me with his icy gaze. My heart raced far more than it should at the feel of his fingers on my skin and his scent against me, the images from last night starting to loop in my head as the vampire's words still made my throat tight.

Feeling unable to answer for the moment, I quickly walked around his large stature that blocked me in order to enter the room, divided between several contradictory emotions.

That night I had let Lance see me fully and it terrified me. I wasn't just talking about my nudity. He had seen my wounds, my limits, my deepest fears, and despite the shame it caused in me, I let him do it, urging him to enter my head, my heart. Meeting him here made my hands sweaty, I didn't know how to react. I felt both euphoric and anxious to find myself in his presence. Besides, my exchange with Nevra had once again proved disastrous, which made my stomach bitter.

I definitely didn't know how to react.

Trying to ignore the footsteps that followed mine, I made my way with some haste to the back of the forge. Once in front of the weapon wall, I raised my hand to grab a sword haphazardly, except I didn't even have time to wrap my fingers around its pommel as a tanned hand grabbed mine. Like last time, I found myself trapped between Lance's body and the shelves in front of me.

- You know that it’s not because you are part of the Obsidian that you can take a weapon without authorization ? he said close to my ear.

The sudden hoarse tone of his voice made me shiver. I was aware of his every gesture, of his every breath that lifted his chest against my shoulders. He knew perfectly well where not to touch me on the level of the back so as not to hurt me and that troubled me.

- What's more, this one is way too dangerous for you.

His palm gently pulled mine away from the handle, slowly dropping our arms together along my side. He didn't let go of me though. I took a deep breath in an attempt to ignore his touch.

- Is there anything I can take here ? I tried then, injecting as much confidence and humor as possible into my intonation.

- So, you plan to train on your own and with a real blade ?

His tone, bordering on condescending, irritated me instantly. Damn, I needed to externalize everything that was swarming inside me, what the hell was he not getting in there ?

- I especially need to let off steam for a moment, do I still have the right or you will also prevent me ?

Anger, which began to grip my heart again like a vice, suddenly made a source of heat rise in the palm of my hands. It didn't take long for the dragon to realize this and suddenly squeezed me much tighter, locking my fingers against each other.

- Andraste, calm down. Now is not the time to do that here and you know it just as well as I do.

- If you let me get out of here with what I came to get, I will indeed have plenty of time to go and calm down elsewhere. Except that in the meantime, you're hurting me, Lance.

Visibly surprised by my last words, he eased the pressure on my knuckles, relieving me somewhat even though he still hugged me tightly.

- Make your light disappear and I'll let go, he chided me.

More annoyed than before crossing him, I clenched and clenched my fists to order my powers to dissipate, which didn't work as much as I wanted. Several pairs of eyes began to rest on us without discretion.

- I would like, but I must say that your touch doesn’t help me, I say defensively.

My Chief of Guard slowly unrolled his fingers from my skin, finally letting me move my wrist as I heard it. Closing my eyes for a moment, I instinctively visualized the path of my energy along my flesh, causing it to flow back to my epicenter, level with my stomach. With amazement, I discovered as I opened my eyelids that no trace of magic left my palms.

Lance pulled away from me to give me a questioning look.

- Since when do you know how to do that ? he asked me, an eyebrow raised.

- It was a first, I said with a shrug, as I myself was shocked at the outcome of my attempt. You see, I am good. So I’ve the right to train a little.

- You are incorrigible... but you’ll have to show me that in more detail.

A proud smile dawned on my lips as he blew loudly, letting out air so cold that I saw ice crystals crystallize on a blade close to him.

- Well, I think we both know how it ends when I show you things "in more detail"... is that really a good idea ? I asked him lower, almost timidly.

He looked at me for a long time, much calmer and more serene than a moment earlier. The atmosphere had changed. More intimate, more personal. As if, in this noisy and bustling room, we were suddenly alone.

- If you want us to stop our private interviews, I will comply without objection. This is your choice, not mine. But we know very well that what happened that night has nothing to do with it and that it would have ended up happening at one point or another.

The dragon approached me dangerously, a smirk so similar to that of the Ashkore era that it disturbed me.

- Know that it wasn’t the first time that I wanted to kiss your cute little mouth, he confided to me with a certain childish malice. And then, as you have already said so well, it is you who threw yourself on me. If you don't want this to happen again, just say it and for my part, I'll be able to stay perfectly docile.

I was obsessed with his words, with what they implied. Any relationship between us could only be unhealthy, totally abject. But then, why did I no longer know what I wanted or not ? Logic would have wanted us to stick to what was decently expected of us. Anger, contempt, that should have been our only fuel.

- What if that's not what I want ? I whispered so low that I was afraid he hadn't heard it. What if, for once, I had the right to listen to myself and not give a damn about the convenience of our relationships ?

Lance had never looked at me so deeply, which made me blush with stress at what I argued. Deep down, I knew the young man had fully understood what I was talking about.

- That night, when I dreamed that I was falling from the cliff... it wasn’t the first time that I had this dream. Before I fell, I still see the draflayels flying around me, but not only. I have the impression of constantly remembering that moment in Memoria, that moment when it was just you and me, I concluded hesitantly.

Never did he cut my tirade, realizing every piece of information I offered him.

- So, is that a good idea ? Probably not, no, I answered my own question a moment earlier. But I want to and for once, I want to have the right to listen to myself.

A new smile, this time much sweeter, appeared on his face before he spoke again.

- Your wishes are orders, my angel. On the other hand, only these, so do me the pleasure of getting you away from this wall of swords once and for all. Don't forget who's in charge here, he winked at me.

Lance pushed me towards the exit, I had obviously lost the battle for my weapon for a long time. Stopping in front of the exit door, the dragon seemed to hesitate for a moment, pulling one of its locks of hair back.

- I have obligations tonight, but I'll come see you tomorrow night in your room, if you want.

Without another ounce of ceremony, he turned on his heel and left me on the doorstep.

*

After literally being kicked out of the forge, I wandered aimlessly through the HQ gardens. I realized a little more every day that besides Lance, I didn't really have any relationships that I felt like myself anymore. When he wasn't there, I often walked in circles, desperately trying to find a way to make myself useful despite my poor physical condition.

No longer able to bear to see the same landscape, I decided to leave the enclosure of these walls that I knew only too well.

My steps guided me in the direction of the burrow, a place that had definitely changed in recent years. A tree with a bent shape had grown just above the crevice, which provided a corner of considerable shade in the great plain. I decided to lie there for a moment, enjoying the calm that reigned around me. Surprisingly, my back was not as painful as I would have thought, the cream of Eweleïn probably having something to do with it.

Stretched out at full length, I watched the clouds move with the light wind blowing between the branches above me. Raising a hand above my face, I lazily imagined my energy flowing through my veins to the muscles of my palm, my fingers. Several fine and luminous lines then began to run over my skin, creating a labyrinthine path on every inch that covered me. I felt good. Soothed, even.

Looking up at the blue sky, I thought I felt something brush against my whole when my eyes rested on a cloud of singular shape. My heart warmed when, in that white and vaporous cotton, I recognized the features of a fire dragon. I might not have been as lonely as I thought. A weary smile appeared on my lips, it was as if his aura had wrapped around my heart.

I knew now that he was watching over me.

- You always trusted him... I whispered. Valkyon, are you relieved of what you find in my heart ?

A new breeze lifted my hair, as if to answer my question. Savoring this moment, I closed my eyelids for a few minutes.

A hand was shaking my shoulder more and more vigorously when I finally came to reality. Slowly opening my eyelids, it took me a while to emerge from my heavy sleep. A scarred gaze plunged into mine.

But what was he doing there ?

- Did you sleep well, Steeping Beauty ?

I couldn't help but giggle at my interlocutor's attempt to quote a tale from my world.

- It's Sleeping Beauty, Nevra.

A wonderfully soft smile appeared on his usually closed face.

- You really have some odd-named stories, that's all I can remember, he said with a weak laugh.

I awkwardly straightened up to sit facing him, when a grimace of surprise and pain distorted my features as my back skin suddenly burned. The vampire immediately leaned over me in concern, one hand holding my shoulder to keep me from rocking.

- Andraste, is everything okay ?

Seriously, I've been asked this question too much lately.

(Chapter 14)

#eldarya #eldarya new era #i am not your enemy #eldarya lance #eldarya ane #beemoov #lance eldarya #lance #ashkore #eldarya fanfiction #eldarya fanfic #eldarya writing

[thebadgerclan]

Second Niffler

Pairing: Newt Scaander x reader

Requested by @pastel-skyline

Summary: Newt and Phil see your form for the first time...

A/N: I named Newt’s niffler (he’s Phil) bc he doesn’t have a name (he needs a real name)

The past month had been one of the longest of your life.  After copious amounts of research, you decided to become an Animagus in the hopes of helping Newt interact with his creatures better.  Some of them didn’t trust him very well, but they’d trust a fellow creature.  You only hoped that your form would be a useful one, and not something they’d be afraid of.  Newt had supported you through the whole process, helping you where he could, though most of the work had to be done by you

After a week, there was finally a lightning storm.  This was your chance.  You grabbed your wand and the potion you’d just finished and ran outside.  You uncorked the vial, and pressed your wand to your heart.  “Amato Animo Animato Animagus,” you cast and downed the potion.  The taste was repulsive, but you swallowed all of it.  Then, you felt your body shoot towards the ground, felt your hands and feet elongating, felt fur sprout all over you.  When the transformation was complete, you tried to shift back, which you were able to do with ease.

Running back inside, you placed a mirror on the ground and shifted back.  Looking back at you was a niffler, your fur the same shade as your hair.  You shouted with glee, which came out as a squeak, and scurried off to find Newt.  As expected, he was in his case, so you made your way down the ladder.  Unfortunately, you’d never done this with paws, and you fell, landing on your belly with a huff.

Newt whirled around from where he stood at his counter.  At first glance, he thought it was just Phil, but Phil was in his cage with his jewels.  When he looked closer, he became confused.  Newt had never seen this niffler before.  It had the most peculiar markings as well; spots in the shape of a star on its back.  Newt crouched before it, holding out his hand. “Hello there,” he said, and you perked up.  “Now just where did you come from?”

You climbed up his pant leg and onto his shoulder, sniffing at his neck.  “Well you’re certainly friendly, aren’t you?  But where did you come from, how did you get here?”  Newt sat fully on the ground, and you crawled into his lap.  When Newt began to pet you, you let out a contented squeak, and he smiled.  “Y/N would love you,” he said, and you cocked your head, beady eyes looking up to his.  

“Do you know Y/N?”  At that moment, you shifted back, and Newt screamed.  “Merlin’s beard, Y/N!  You scared me!”  “Sorry,” you laughed, kissing him.  “You did it?”  “I did.  As soon as I saw my form I came down here.”  “That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you!  But wait, didn’t you fall into the case?”  “Yeah, but I fell on my belly.  Niffler’s got a bit of pudge there.”  “I knew you could do it, love.”  “Thanks Newt.”  He held you in his lap for a while before laughing to himself.

“What’s funny?”  “I just thought, how would Phil react to seeing you?”  You began to laugh as well.  “Let’s find out.”  You shifted back, making your way to Phil’s enclosure.  It was a longer walk with short legs, and eventually, Newt picked you up and carried you.  You squeaked, and Newt smiled.  “I’m going to assume that meant ‘thank you’.”  When you arrived at Phil’s cage, he was at the bars, reaching in vain for a coin that he’d dropped.  Newt unlocked the door and Phil hopped to the ground.

When he saw you, his hair stood on end.  He cautiously made his way towards you, scenting the air.  Phil knew there was something familiar about you, but he couldn’t figure out what.  When he got close enough, he sniffed your fur, squeaking confusedly.  You squeaked back in a way you hoped was reassuring.  It appeared it was, because Phil relaxed, walking circles around you.  He darted back to his enclosure, digging through his piles of treasure.  He returned to you with a diamond necklace, and you squeaked again.  

Newt crouched next to you, and you took the necklace in your snout, dropping it into his hand. “This is yours, isn’t it?”  “Squeak!”  “This is the one I got you for our anniversary!”  “Squeak squeak!”  “Phil, this is Y/N’s we do not steal from Y/N, we’ve discussed this.”  Phil bowed his head, and you approached him, nuzzling him with your snout.  You stepped back and transformed, Phil squealing in shock.  “Yep,” you told him, “I’m a niffler too now, so don’t be taking my stuff!”  You picked him up, scratching his belly, and he squeaked happily.

You set him down and he returned to his cage, sitting protectively on his treasure.  Newt laughed, pulling you into his arms.  “You make a very cute niffler,” he said, kissing your forehead.  “Am I not cute as a human?” you teased, and Newt shook his head.  “Of course you are, darling.”  “Thank you.”  Tomorrow, you’d have to go to the Ministry and register, but for now, you could run around as a niffler, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.  

#newt scamander x reader #newt scamander x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter reader insert

[bittykimmy13]

Playing with Fire  (18+ GT Drama / Horror)

Premise: Sequel to Heart of Gold. Sherry navigates a vicious life teeming with cruel and lustful giants eager to get their hands on her. The only lifeline within reach is the person who sealed her fate.

Warning: Graphic descriptions of sexual assault, violence, and dehumanization in a GT context. This is not intended to be fetish material; commenting on it as such will result in an immediate block.

Print/Trinket Universe and characters belong to me and the lovely @marydublin5​ / @little-miss-maggie​, who made the sick header image <3

(( Read Heart of Gold here ))

(( More from the Print/Trinket Universe ))

"I already told you, I'm done. Delete my number."

"One last time, Sher, please. You can't turn your back on me now."

"What'd you do this time?"

"I just... I need you here. Please. I know how we left things. I understand if you never wanna see me again, but I need your help. This is the last time I'll ever bother you, I swear."

Tears drenched Sherry's face. Her attempts to drift away from her current hell led her down the most miserable memories. She wasn't sure which was worse: revisiting the moment she ruined her life, or being present enough to confront her ruined life.

A voice huffed overhead, forcing her to choose the latter. "Stop crying already. Fuck."

But Sherry couldn't stop. She didn't have a clue what was happening or why. All she knew was that she was pinned to a cold metal table while a human woman tried to fit a gold collar over her head.

Agent Taylor. That was what her badge said.

The cabinet doors had flown open at Zane's place, and the reaper's cold eyes had filled the space. Her grasping hands wrecked the makeshift shelter while she thwarted Sherry and Adam's pitiful attempts to bolt out of reach. They had been dumped into a glass cage and then separated before they reached their final destination.

Adam was nowhere to be seen. Was he being forced into a collar somewhere else? And what about Odessa? She had not been caged with them. Maybe because she had been captured by a different reaper.

"Please," Sherry whimpered, twisting her head side to side to avoid the collar. "W-what are you doing? Why am I here?"

Taylor wound Sherry's teal hair around one fingertip and tugged so sharply that Sherry screamed. The back of her head slammed against the table, making the world turn fuzzy. She squinted through the blinding fluorescent lights to see the reaper's annoyed expression hanging over her.

"Stop squirming, or I'll snap your pretty little neck, you hear me?" Taylor looked down at her with disgust. "I don't have a clue why Mitchell insisted on keeping a whiner like you, but you should be grateful. The best thing a trinket can hope to be is a snake."

"A-A... what?"

Fingertips viciously groped Sherry's neck until she held still enough for the perfect gold circle to slip over her head. The invasive hands pulled away finally. Panting, Sherry sat up and felt her collar all around, intending to yank it off. Impossibly, it retracted to a smaller size and settled snugly around her neck. There was no clasp to be found. Smart metal—the kind that was used on tracking cuffs for prints. Since when was such expensive material used on trinkets?

Feeling like she couldn't draw a full breath, Sherry whimpered and clawed at the collar. She felt the thin engraving of an inscription etched along the metal, but she was not interested in deciphering it.

"Don't bother." A hand swept Sherry into a fist, pinning her arms awkwardly against her body. "Mess with it too much, and it'll choke you out before you can even think to regret it."

Sherry trembled in the woman's grasp—not only from fear, but from the shock of being handled so roughly. She had been spoiled by Zane's consideration and careful touches, even if he had turned out to be a lying bastard in the end. Hours ago, she had felt like a real person, and already it seemed like a fever dream to ignore what she really was.

Trinket. Criminal. Doll. Prisoner.

She was whisked out of the small, blinding room and taken into what appeared to be the main hub of a police station. Sherry shivered harder than ever. The giants typing away at computers and chatting around the desks were not regular cops. These were reapers, government agents specifically tasked with the repossession of wayward prints and trinkets.

Although she fit the category of wayward trinket, she figured she would have been shipped straight to a facility to be redistributed to another bar. Maybe a brothel as punishment for her misguided attempts to be rescued by the rebellion. Why was she still here?

"New snake?" boomed an unfamiliar voice. A reaper passing by Agent Taylor eyed Sherry like a choice cut. She shrank away from his stare, which only seemed to encourage him. He stopped to reach out and brush a finger over her hair. "Where'd you nab this one?"

"Some barfly who can't get his story straight about whether he's black market or rebellion." Taylor made no move to thwart the other reaper from lifting Sherry's chin to see her tear-soaked face better. "Either way, the truth will come out. We got taped confirmation about a meet-up tomorrow at noon."

The guy whistled, finally pulling his hand away. "A confession and a follow-up location? Lemme guess. Odessa?"

"Who else?"

The mention of Odessa's name made Sherry perk up, but the conversation ended before she could make sense of what had been said. She'd been too preoccupied about being petted like a captive mouse.

Taylor took her to the center of the station. What Sherry saw made her stomach churn. A glass labyrinth of trinket-sized rooms sat atop a huge table. There were faint lines of translucent circuits within the walls that suggested it was no ordinary glass. There was no ceiling on the enclosure, as though a pet store had decided to set up shop in the middle of the government establishment.

"Welcome home," Taylor said derisively. "For however long you last. We call this the Warren."

The longer Sherry stared at the enclosure, the sicker she felt. There were over a dozen rooms. The walls offered no privacy, other than one cubicle that had sheets thrown up over the sides for some reason—but it still lacked a ceiling. There were doorways, but no doors. None of the openings provided a path onto the table. No exits. The only way a trinket could leave was if a human plucked them out.

Sherry was released into one of the cubicles, which looked like a rough draft of a bedroom. She backed up against the wall, shivering. She eyed the doorway, but with a reaper glaring down at her, there was no point in making a run for it. Her trembling legs were hard to convince.

Blessedly, Agent Taylor turned her attention to a tablet that lay beside the Warren and tapped away at it. "Name?"

Flinching, Sherry clutched her hands close to herself and stared up blankly.

"Tell me a name, or I'll pick one for you." Taylor's eyes flickered to her. "You look like a 'Diva' to me."

"Sh—" She swallowed a sob. "Sherry."

Taylor made a noise of ridicule under her breath. Perhaps like Zane, she didn't believe that was her real name and that it was really what she had been saddled with when being passed around at a bar. Whatever she thought, the reaper typed something into the tablet. Circuits along the wall flickered, and Sherry's name appeared in translucent letters on the wall by the doorway. It was then she noticed that the other rooms had names, too. The one across from hers was Raquel.

Despite her best judgment, Sherry couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"Tell me what's happening," she said, hating the pathetic note of pleading in her voice. "Please. I... I don't understand."

She had never begged as a trinket. Not at the facility. Not at the bar. Not when she was worried that Zane's impossibly gentle touch was fake. But she had been able to make some sense out of those situations. For the life of her, she could not pinpoint what she had done to end up in the Warren with Agent Taylor leering down at her.

The reaper, forthcoming as ever, gave her a barbed smirk. "Do a good job, and you'll be rewarded. Do a shitty job, and you'll be at the mercy of that new necklace of yours. Do a particularly shitty job, and you won't even get that mercy. We'll leave you to the wolves to do as they please. Simple as that."

There was nothing simple about it.

Agent Taylor tossed the tablet onto the table and strode off without telling Sherry what her job was.

For a few minutes, Sherry couldn't do more than stand in one spot while her thoughts reeled. The moment it sank in that nothing stopped her from walking through the doorway of her assigned room, she stepped out. The glass walls were so clean, she might have walked right into a few if not for the pale circuits within.

She came across three other trinkets in her tentative exploration of the Warren. None were helpful. A couple of them were sleeping in their own rooms, and one was sitting on the floor in a central hub area.

He stared up at a news channel playing on a wallscreen that was embedded into the glass. Sherry didn't even realize they made screens so miniature, let alone that there were any systems in place that allowed trinkets to use them. It felt like a twisted, sanitized version of Zane's makeshift trinket hideout.

"Hi?" Sherry said, her voice thready. She stopped a few feet from him. No, inches. Inches. "Can you tell me what's going on here? What is this place? W-what do they want with us?"

He didn't look away from the screen. Didn't say a word.

"Hello? Can you hear me? Please... I-I have no idea—"

"You'll figure it out," he grunted. "Or maybe you won't. We don't bother each other around here, I'll tell you that much." He gave her a razor-sharp glance that told her it was time to stop bothering him.

She retreated back to her room and hugged herself on the bed. That's all there was. No pillow, no sheets. She had glimpsed a few other rooms. Most were fairly simple, but others were adorned with extra accommodations. More pillows, thicker blankets, extra furniture, a box packed with clothes. A couple even had their own wallscreens.

All around the outside the Warren, the reaper station went on business as usual. Footsteps thudded back and forth past the enclosure, but despite Sherry's instinct to duck down out of sight, no one seemed to give the trinkets more than a passing glance. As if the glass cage was no more out of place than a light fixture.

Although intense confusion continued to plague her thoughts, her adrenaline waned and exhaustion crept in. She absently felt along her collar to trace the letters and numbers. C117.

Without realizing she had curled up on her side, she fell into a fitful sleep.

She couldn't be sure how long she had laid there by the time heavy footsteps rattled the floors and walls, closer than before. Sherry jolted in bed, but she kept her head down. She debated on whether it would be a better idea to sit up or pretend to be asleep. A shiver ran through her at the thought that a person was towering over the Warren, looking down at her.

A familiar voice silenced her internal debate—a voice that didn't belong to a massive reaper.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I don't know."

Odessa.

Sitting up, Sherry almost tripped over her own feet as she scrambled for the doorway. She gripped the glass edge and looked high up. The reaper who had approached was still there. A cold spike of recognition ran through Sherry as she examined his icy blue eyes and dark hair. He had raided Zane's place along with Agent Taylor. Currently, he held Odessa in a fist and glared at her.

"Well, someone must have tipped them off," he snapped. "We've gone over the recording a dozen times—there's nothing left up to interpretation. A distributor was supposed to be there at noon. Are you sure there wasn't some change of plan? Did he ever look at his phone as if he received a message? Because I'm still feeling pretty fucking suspicious about how long it took for you to boot up your tracker."

Despite being trapped in a gigantic grip, Odessa didn't cower. That was strange. She had been so skittish around Zane, and here this reaper was raising his voice at her.

"I wouldn't have gotten the confession at all if you all had busted in any earlier," Odessa spat. "It's not my fault the distributor didn't show up. Maybe some neighbor spotted Zane being arrested and passed the info along. Could be that you all weren't subtle enough. Instead of asking me, why don't you ask Zane?"

The reaper scoffed. "Haven't been able to get another word out of him. He's already on the docket for trial. Let's see if he's so quiet during his follow-up interrogation at three inches tall."

The hand holding Odessa plunged and deposited her in a nearby hall of the Warren. Overwhelmed by the appearance of a friendly face, Sherry bottled from her doorway. Seconds after the hand retreated, she flung her arms around Odessa and held on tight.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" Sherry gasped.

Odessa stiffened, but after a moment, she hugged Sherry back. "It's okay," she said softly. "Everything's going to be okay."

"I-I thought I'd be alone here. I heard what Zane said about being with the black market. I knew it. But they won't tell me what's going on here! What are they making you do? Zane just barely got you last night—how can they expect you to know anything about what he was up to?"

A laugh boomed from above, effectively reminding Sherry that they were being watched. She cowered, but Odessa seemed more annoyed than frightened as she held Sherry close. The glare she aimed upward looked like it had been bred in a blizzard.

"Oh, that's just precious," the reaper said, bracing his hands on the table to lean down closer to them. "You sure picked a bright one, didn't you, Odessa? Poor thing hasn't even put two and two together, has she?"

Sherry looked from his looming face to Odessa's icy expression. "What's he talking about?" Sherry asked.

Odessa sighed. "Let me explain—"

"Allow me," the reaper laid in overtop. The cruel amusement in his eyes should have been reserved for a kid frying ants with a magnifying glass. "Sherry, is it? Well, Odessa is the reason you were dragged from that cute little hideaway in the cupboard. I mean, if we hadn't stepped in, you'd be up for bid on the black market. But still. You were rounded up thanks to our expert two-faced bitch here. I suggest you start thinking of her as your new role model if you want to make it through your first week."

Sherry's desperate arms went slack. She wriggled out of Odessa's protective embrace. "He's... he's lying," Sherry said. "Tell me he's lying!"

But Odessa did not attempt to deny any of it. Fury and a sense of utter loneliness exploded through Sherry so violently that she nearly collapsed. Spotting this, Odessa caught her arms and kept her standing despite Sherry's protests.

"Fuck off, Mitchell," Odessa snarled. "Why don't you go figure out the Zane situation before the captain mounts your head on the wall?"

Agent Mitchell was still chuckling as he straightened to his full, dizzying height. "Better start explaining things to her quick. She'll be out in the field before you know it."

Odessa locked her hand in Sherry's and led her away. Still in shock, Sherry allowed herself to be taken. There was a room with Odessa's name displayed on the outside. If Sherry had only explored a little further, she would have saved herself a few precious moments of humiliation. Even more mind-boggling, this was the room with sheets thrown over the walls.

As they entered, Sherry's eyes widened. Odessa had more possessions than anyone she had seen so far.

"Sit." Odessa led her to a dollhouse chair against the wall.

Sherry ripped her hand away and glared, making no move to obey. Her throat was too tight with tears and anger to say all the things racing through her mind. Odessa took her by the shoulders and made her sit.

"Listen up." Odessa's fingers stayed perched firmly on Sherry's shoulders. They were nearly nose-to-nose. "I'm going to explain my job. Our job. Are you listening? When a human is suspected of stealing prints or trinkets, the best way to find everyone they've stolen is to send in a snake. That's us."

"That's you," Sherry protested, her voice a mere croak.

"No. It's us. Whether you like it or not, you have to understand right here and now that there's no choice, Sherry. Either you comply, or they'll send you somewhere worse."

Sherry shook her head. "You said or. Sure sounds like there's a choice in there somewhere."

"Not when one of the choices is a fucking stupid one." Odessa knelt by the chair and looked up at Sherry, taking her hand. A display of vulnerability meant nothing when it came from a professional liar. "I saved you. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but this is the best thing I could've done for you."

"My collar disagrees." Sherry yanked her hands away, glaring daggers at Odessa's imploring expression. "If we're being set out as bait to catch these people, we're still ending up in bars. How is this any better?"

"The difference is that you'll be saved if you do your job right. You'll have a bed to sleep in. Food to eat. Moments of actual rest. Those other trinkets out in the world... They have nothing. They're dead."

"Oh, this is what you call living?"

Odessa pursed her lips, patience wearing thin. "I'm not gonna sugarcoat it and say it's easy. It's the hardest job you'll ever have to do, but it's a job. You're not a doll or a sex toy or decoration anymore."

"You're right," Sherry spat. "I'm all those things at once, just depends on who the reapers plan to target, huh? Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're wrong," Odessa said simply, rising to stand in front of Sherry with her arms crossed tightly. "I'm expected to teach you what to do. So if you want to survive, I suggest you listen up."

Sherry scowled and clenched her hands on her lap, but she listened.

"Depending on the target, you need to tailor your personality to be tantalizing but believable. Some of these creeps have wizened up, or at least know that the reapers have a few tricks up their sleeves at this point. You just need to be something they want to take home with them. Whether it's for personal, black market, or rebellion reasons."

A sour look crossed Sherry's face. "So, that scared girl thing you did at Zane's place... that was just a routine to get him to nab you?"

Odessa scoffed. "Zane was hardly worth the effort. But then again, bar jobs are usually the easiest. The reapers work with the staff to make sure a snake gets served to the target. Those jobs are the most common. I'm sure that's what they'll assign you at first."

"And what about Adam?" Sherry said when he occurred to her suddenly. "Why isn't here, getting this informative seminar with me?"

"There's no way I could convince Mitchell to take you both."

"So... I'm just the lucky one you chose, then?"

"Luck had nothing to do with it." Odessa glanced away, frowning as if she was still processing her own decision. "I've never asked them to bring in a new snake before. But you were convincing when you hid your suspicions from Zane. Convincing enough that I know you'll be good at this job."

Before Sherry could help it, her eyes filled with tears. "I don't want to be good at this job."

"Sher... I'm giving you something that didn't have before tonight. I'm giving you the power to take control instead of staying a helpless victim." Odessa leaned in closer and put her hands on Sherry's shoulders again, squeezing. "Lesson one. Never cry unless it benefits you."

One last time, Sher, please. You can't turn your back on me now.

Rage flooded over the fear. Sherry sprang to her feet and shoved Odessa to the ground, catching her off guard. "You're a fucking monster! Just as bad as Zane, and these reapers, and all the other psychos out there who can't keep their disgusting hands off trinkets!"

A shadow darkened over them. Mitchell seemed to materialize out of nowhere, his voice rumbling with dangerous amusement. "Well, well, trouble in paradise?"

Sherry made a choked noise and tripped over the doll chair as his hand dove down for her. She scrambled to kick her legs free of the flimsy furniture, but in no time at all, fingers closed around her body and yanked her out of Odessa's room. He observed her panicked struggles for only a moment before raising his eyebrows at Odessa.

"Guess you forgot to mention in your little orientation that fighting isn't tolerated."

"Back off," Odessa said, brushing herself off. "You've barely given me fifteen minutes with her."

"Hm. Didn't happen to teach her about the collar yet?"

"I was getting to it," Odessa said hurriedly. Her voice jumped in a way that made Sherry's skin crawl with dread.

That was all the answer he needed. He released Sherry on the table's expansive surface outside the Warren, right beside one of Odessa's walls. Odessa tore down one of the hanging sheets, pressing her hands to the glass.

"Just relax!" she ordered Sherry, seeming caught between genuine worry and cold nonchalance in Mitchel's looming presence.

"Oh, stop babying her," he chided, doing nothing to fight a sick smile of anticipation.

Mitchell's hand crowded Sherry again. She backed up frantically, but bumped into the glass, unable to avoid his fingertip as it tapped her collar. He went on conversationally as if she wasn't cowering under his gaze.

"Now, if you're out in the field and need to communicate, put your fingertips on both sides and hold for a few seconds. When you've got a solid enough confession from the target, turn on the tracker by tapping the sides three times." His finger pulled away, but not before dragging it down her shoulder, arm, and leg. "Timing is everything. You'll find that several targets scan for trackers, so be smart about when you activate it. You wouldn't want them to know your little secret."

Once his hand no longer filled her vision, she managed to shudder out the breath she had been holding. She reached for the collar, pursing her lips. He spotted the question on her face and chuckled.

"Why would we give you the power to choose when we come for you? Because we have a neat little failsafe in the event that you try to dodge us. I think you deserve a demonstration."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. The reaper logo was stamped on the back. He set it on the table in front of Sherry, giving her full upside-down view as he moved through screen after screen until he came upon a list of codes and names. He stopped and tapped on one of the pairs.

C117 - Sherry

Before she could process how quickly her identity had been synced in the reaper station, she couldn't breathe.

A cry squeaked past her throat. She coughed and tried to pry her fingertips under her collar as it constricted against her neck. Panic seized her. She fell to her knees and writhed uselessly, certain that the metal would decapitate her in its rapid compression against her windpipe.

Odessa's voice sounded far away. "You made your point, now quit it!"

"Just showing her what happens if she gets any bright ideas," Mitchell drawled.

He tapped his device. The collar sprang back to its normal, snug fit. Bracing one hand on the table, he leaned in closer to get a better look as Sherry put herself back together. Gasping, she managed to stand shakily.

"That's for trying to rough up my favorite snake," he told her in a low, dangerous voice. "If you don't turn on your tracker while you're on a job, it starts a little slower than that. You won't even notice at first. Like a frog in boiling water. Just don't even think about activating the tracker until you've recorded some evidence or found some hoarded inventory. You got it?"

Sherry stood there and trembled, reeling to process the way he referred to smuggled people as inventory.

His hand slammed down beside her and sent a shockwave that knocked her off her feet. She looked straight up as he put his face inches from her.

"I said, you got it?" Mitchell barked.

"Y-yes!"

"Yes, what?"

"Yessir!" She nodded frantically and pressed her back against the glass that separated her from Odessa, who looked on with wide, furious eyes.

"You done?" Odessa demanded of Mitchell. "Already collected plenty of material to jack off to later, don't you think?"

He smirked. "You know me so well."

In one smooth motion, he straightened and plucked up Sherry before she could think to be startled by it. He deposited her in Odessa's room, where she fell to her hands and knees. She didn't pause for a single second—she sprang to stand. Bolting from the room, she headed for her own, empty one. Mitchell's leer followed her path effortlessly, still laughing and watching when she reached her destination.

"Expect your first assignment tomorrow, new girl," he said. "Hope you'll leave a good review about orientation."

"I can't take this anymore. Why can't you just... just stop!"

"You don't understand, Sher. If we don't keep splitting it between us, I... You know what'll happen to me. Is that what you want? It is, isn't it? Then you'd be rid of me for good. Fucking finally, right?"

"Don't say that!"

The feeling in Sherry's gut was so familiar, it hurt like a freshly reopened wound. No matter which body she existed in, the universe demanded she be dragged into something she wanted nothing to do with. No choice but to follow through.

This time there was no family. There was no love, no urge to protect. There was only the will to see another day.

What's the point of seeing another day if this what the days are like?

As she lay in her depressing, issued bed and stared at the ceiling, she sincerely thought of running over to Odessa's room to punch her squarely in the face. Maybe Mitchell would swoop in and let the collar finish her off this time. But Sherry couldn't bring herself to budge. She stayed fixated on the fluorescent lights as the hours of the day dragged on. The lights never turned out—not even at night. Busting people for hoarding prints and trinkets was a twenty-four-hour business, but reapers could go home at the end of their shifts.

In all her waiting, she found herself becoming numb. By the time Agent Mitchell came stomping back to the Warren, she felt ready for whatever horror she was expected to carry out. At least she tried to lie to herself that she was ready. Odessa, a known liar, was certain that Sherry was an excellent one. So maybe she could convince herself.

"Four assignments tonight," Mitchell announced, reading from a tablet. "Odessa, Collin, Miranda, and Sherry."

Through the glass walls, she saw the summoned trinkets making their way to the common area. She followed suit, making sure to be as far away from Odessa as possible as they stood at attention.

Mitchell's gaze settled on Sherry immediately, seeming equal measures curious and amused as he wondered how she would react to carrying out her first job. She dropped her gaze to the floor. If some creep was going to toy with her tonight, the least she could do for herself was not let Mitchell get the ball rolling.

"Don't look so sad, Sherry," he chided. "You've got a bar tonight. Easy."

"I'll take her assignment," Odessa said as if she was commenting about the weather.

Sherry's head shot up to look across at Odessa. The other trinkets were staring too, while Mitchell raised his eyebrows steeply.

"See, that's a problem. Did you miss the part where you have your own job tonight?"

Odessa shrugged. "I'll do both. One after the other. She isn't ready yet, but the jobs need to be done, so I'll do them."

He scoffed. "What's the point of her taking up space here?"

"What space? Look around. Half the rooms are empty. Just give me more time to work with her, and she'll be as much of an asset as I am. You're risking her if you send her out too soon. Think long-term, Mitchell. She'll be worth it."

The reaper thought on it for a second, resting a hand over one of the outer walls and drumming his fingers on it. Looking more amused than ever, he turned his attention back to Sherry.

"And what do you say to that?" he asked her.

More than anything, Sherry wanted to demand what Odessa was playing at. Was this her way of apologizing? Sherry was not used to anyone taking the fall for her, but she stuffed down her shock with a cool look and mimed Odessa's shrug.

"If that's what she wants, you won't hear me complaining," Sherry said.

"Fine by me." Mitchell reached for Odessa. "As long as both jobs get done tonight."

And with that Sherry was left standing alone in the common area as the other snakes were plucked up as well. Dropping the pretense of her disinterest, she drew a deep breath and made a slow path back to her room. Along the way, she saw a couple of other snakes who had not been assigned anything that night. They rolled over in their beds, eyes open. No doubt they had heard the whole thing, but none of them had offered to take on Odessa's extra job.

Sherry spent the day drifting between her room and the common area, trying to block out the sounds of the station around the Warren. It was like existing as a ghost. Feeling real while having no significant impact on the real world.

She stared at the wallscreen as it played the news, but she may as well have been watching a broadcast from Jupiter for all the effect it had on her life. Watching the news from Zane's apartment had filled her with a weak sense of hope—at least, in those times when she could force herself to ignore how suspicious she was of his motives. Here, she was filled with nothing but sorrow, watching as the distant world went on without her.

Odessa had been taken at five in the afternoon. She was returned at four in the morning, looking as exhausted as Mitchell looked pleased. It must have been the end of his shift because he didn't stick around to torment anyone as the returning trinkets staggered to their rooms.

Sherry put up no argument when Odessa leaned in her doorway and beckoned her to follow.

"So... I'm guessing it went well?" Sherry asked once they were in Odessa's room.

She refused to give Odessa the satisfaction of immediately asking why she had taken the second job.

"I was responsible for three arrests." For all the extra privacy of her room, she didn't seem shy at all as she stripped off her skimpy bar outfit. Sherry averted her eyes to the corner as Odessa went on. "The first job was a well-off couple. They had been hoarding trinkets from bars and selling them on the side. Not part of any black market networks. Those are the easiest. They rarely have a clue what they're doing, and it's very obvious. Remember that."

Catching a flash of fabric out of the corner of her eye, Sherry peeked and saw Odessa had thrown on a sunflower dress. She did a double-take. It looked a lot like the one Zane had kept in his storage of trinket clothing.

"Independent sellers are easy," Sherry recited glumly. "And the other?"

"A low ranking distributor on the black market. He was crashing parties that had trinket rentals. Keep this in mind, too—those trinket rental services are the most notorious for losing their inventory. Too many moving pieces and rarely a solid guest list to keep track of."

Sherry nodded, sinking into the dollhouse chair as she tried to process it all. "How did you pull that one off?"

"I was alone. I made myself the easiest one for him to grab. So he did." Odessa leaned against one of the sheeted walls and crossed her arms. Her eyelids looked heavy. "It was hard getting info out of him. See, distributors are usually either batshit crazy or stoic. Still, at the end of the day, what most of them love is to feel powerful. The trick was for me to be awed and skeptical. In the end, he wanted for me to know how much of a badass he was."

Something cold warmed through Sherry as she watched Odessa rub her arms up and down like she was trying to rid herself of a lingering sensation.

"And did they..." Sherry cleared her throat. "I mean, did they touch you?"

Odessa dropped the back of her head to the wall and looked up at the ceiling. "The couple caged me. They weren't interested. The distributor... Well, he was handsy. I had to lure him to get those confessions out of him. A lot of humans are like that. They start getting physical, and their walls come down while they brag. They just need to make it clear how much stronger they are."

Humans. "I'm guessing you weren't human, then?"

Odessa fixed her with a guarded look. "What's got you so curious all the sudden?"

"What's got you so selfless all the sudden, taking my job like that?"

A scoff. "You don't know me enough to be shocked by my choices." She paused, her jaw ticking for a second. "Born and raised in a print community. That's where I get my sunshiney personality."

Sherry tried not to gawk. They had been born in entirely different worlds, and now here they both were, living in a glass cage together.

"Did you try to escape?" Sherry asked.

"To go where? The wild? Nah." Odessa pursed her lips as she reminisced. "It wasn't so bad there. I worked in a local bakery, and I was taken to the city a few days out of the month to pull weeds at a botanical garden."

A little snort escaped Sherry before she could stop it. When Odessa raised her eyebrows in question, Sherry shrugged. "Sorry, I have a hard time picturing you in an apron or surrounded by flowers."

"Well, I did have a different face at the time."

That sobered Sherry up in seconds, but she in no way apologized. "So what happened?"

"This keeper started harassing me when I was old enough to have my own place."

Cocking her head, Sherry waited for more, but Odessa just stared at the ceiling. Her gaze was beginning to look distant. Sherry supposed she could understand that. She stood, walking close enough to see the individual petals on Odessa's sunflower dress.

"Did you get into trouble with him?" she asked softly, as if it mattered at all who heard. "It's the kind of thing you hear about sometimes, you know. Keepers getting handsy with prints and getting no repercussions for it. Finding ways to get them in trouble when they don't reciprocate."

Odessa's eyes snapped to hers. "I killed him."

Sherry took a step back, her blood icing over. Her wide eyes incited a smirk on Odessa's lips.

"You were human, weren't you?" Odessa said. "You may not be as freaked as every other human-turned-trinket I've met, but you've still got that look, that way you carry yourself. Like you used to be on top of the world."

"Oh, please. I was never on top of the world."

"Yes, you were. Consider this. The poorest human is living better than the most well-off print." Still, she paused to think about Sherry's statement. "I'm guessing you didn't leave much behind?"

Taking slow steps back to the doorway, Sherry didn't have the energy to protest the shift of spotlight. The mere inquiry of her old life sent her head spinning along with Odessa's casual confession.

"I left behind plenty," Sherry said, gripping the glass doorway. "I have a twin. Had, I guess. Don't quite look alike anymore. Her name's Mia."

Odessa's poker face remained intact, but Sherry swore she saw a flicker of sympathy. "Since we're sharing, what did a sweet thing like you do to deserve what you got?"

It was Sherry's turn to be amused, though she felt like a cold knife was twisting in her gut as she made her exit. "You think you're hot shit for taking out one creep? You're looking at a convicted serial killer, queen."

"Hey, I'm here. I found your backpack, but where are you?"

"I-I..."

"Hello? Mia?"

"I'm sorry, Sher. I-I'm s-so sorry, I had to, I had to—"

"Whoa, slow down! Why are you crying?"

The next night, Odessa insisted once again on taking Sherry's assignment. And the night after that. And the night after that. Mitchell was apparently determined to saddle them both with jobs every night. The other snakes were granted periodic nights off.

There was no attempt to hide it—Agent Mitchell was thoroughly entertained. On the fifth night, he clicked his tongue and looked down at Odessa with what might have been admiration. "You know, you're this close to pissing me off, but I'm kinda curious how much you'll kill yourself to protect your pet girlfriend."

Being in the clear every night did not win Sherry any friends among the snakes. Then again, none of them seemed overly fond of each other anyway. As far as Sherry knew, she and Odessa were the only ones who visited each other, even if those visits were out of pure survival on Sherry's part.

Odessa returned later and later into the morning every time, burdened with the double assignments. The dark circles under her eyes became a permanent fixture. And yet, her performance in acquiring confessions and finding hoarded trinkets did not seem to wane in the slightest.

"Why not call the reapers earlier?" Sherry asked when she noticed Odessa massaging her neck and grimacing. She was back later than ever, which meant she must have put up with the collar tightening quite a bit.

"Holding off a little bit longer pays off," Odessa explained. Even her voice sounded sore. "More damning confessions. Plus, info on others in their network. I'm sure you've noticed that we're rewarded when we do a good job."

Sherry had noticed.

Odessa's cubicle was the most decked out. The best clothes, the most pillows, the softest blankets. The reapers didn't even bother her about the extra sheets she had tossed over the glass walls, allowing her privacy that the other snakes were denied. She did her job well, and like a prized poodle, she was given treats for it.

The reward system gnawed at Sherry over the next few days, but she had little time to confront Odessa about it. She continued taking Sherry's jobs and took to sleeping the entire time she returned to the Warren. The rage that had first taken over Sherry was slowly but surely flickering down to nothing each time she saw Odessa drag her feet to her room.

Then, out of the clear blue, the snakes were taken outside. Sort of.

They were allowed one hour of outdoor time per week. It turned out to be the necessary amount to keep the majority of them from snapping and killing each other in their sleep.

The seven of them were placed in a glass box that had been fixed outside a window. Naturally, the dreariest day of the week had been chosen. Drizzling rain pattered against the glass, keeping the occupants downcast as ever.

Odessa, for all her exhaustion, seemed the least bothered by it. She sat cross-legged in front of one wall. Her hands were braced on the floor behind her, chin tilted up and eyes shut as if she could feel the sunshine through the compact clouds.

Taking a seat beside her, Sherry curled up and hugged her knees. Instead of looking up, she watched the crawling traffic below. Watching from ten stories up made her feel less small.

"Was I just another reward?" Sherry blurted. "Just something you asked for when you did a good job with Zane?"

Odessa didn't answer.

Sherry sighed sharply. "Why bring me into this? What do you want from me?"

"I dunno, Sher," Odessa murmured finally. "Maybe, for once, I wanted to be around someone who wasn't hand-picked by reapers. Maybe I'm just fucking lonely, and you had enough potential as a snake that I could use it as an excuse to keep you. Or maybe I just think you're cute."

There was no more wrath in Sherry. Only an awful, hollow feeling. "I really am your pet girlfriend, aren't I?"

"You still don't get it. You don't have to be anything to anyone. That's the gift I gave you with this job. You choose the role you want to play. You aren't the prey anymore. You're the hunter. If you don't want me to take your assignments anymore, all you have to do is tell me."

Sherry dug her fingers into her arms, holding herself closer. "Why take my jobs in the first place? You care so much about survival and rewards. You think you're getting in my good graces?"

Odessa was quiet for so long, Sherry thought she wouldn't answer. But then she sighed. "I only meant to take the first job. It would have sucked for you to die on your first assignment. Then you didn't seem ready for the second one. Or the one after. And so on. Now here we are."

"You still don't think I'm ready?"

"You could be." Odessa kept her gaze fixed on the clouds. "Maybe I'm the one who's not ready to imagine someone getting their filthy hands on you. But I gotta say... Being a good liar is one thing. You seem a bit soft for a serial killer."

Sherry swallowed hard, feeling like she was stumbling up a staircase in the dark, knowing that one step was missing.

"Makes sense," Sherry said. "I was framed."

Odessa turned to look at her, scooting closer until their arms brushed each other. It was weirdly comforting to have someone listen instead of scoff. "Huh. Ain't that a bitch. Wrong place, wrong time?"

"No. I was right on schedule. I knew I was there to be framed. It wasn't the first time."

Clenching her jaw, Sherry stared straight ahead at the skyline. The city was loud, but it was so quiet inside the glass box, she felt as though every snake was listening in. None of them gave a shit, other than the one sitting beside her.

"Mia and I would switch places all the time," Sherry said, her words feeling strangely disconnected from herself. She had kept them in for so long. "Ever since we were kids, we would share the blame. We would keep track of whose turn it was to get in trouble. As we grew up... she was the one doing most of the bad things.

"And then, once we were adults, it was legal trouble. She could never seem to get herself back on her feet without being dragged back down by something new. It happened over and over. I would let myself get arrested for her petty crimes, and then I'd be let go. She had this terrible boyfriend who kept dragging her along. She may have loved me, but she was obsessed with him. It got to be too much. Once I realized she liked that life, I was done. I moved away, cut her off. It was more like cutting off an arm or a leg. She had turned into this awful thing, but she was still my sister.

"Four years, we didn't speak. Then one day she called me up. Said she needed my help one last time. Said she'd leave me alone after that. I almost didn't go, but I missed her, and I was worried. She promised it was nothing too bad, but she had built up her record so much since I left, she just couldn't afford to get caught again.

"So I showed up where she told me to. I found her backpack in an alley. When I called her, she was a wreck. She kept apologizing, kept saying she loved me. But that she couldn't be a trinket. She just couldn't do it.

"Right on cue, I was spotted and recognized by a witness. I was arrested. The police line-up lasted for about thirty seconds before I was singled out. I was dragged in for an interrogation. That was when they told me what she did. What I did. Seven counts of first-degree murder. See, her boyfriend had been arrested for gang activity and who knows how many hits. At his trial, the jurors took less than five minutes to deliberate: guilty. He was sentenced to be a trinket. And she snapped. She blamed it all on them."

Odessa nodded, having the decency to look disturbed. "The jurors...."

"Picked them off one by one over the course of a year. On her seventh one, she was spotted, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she was found. So she called me up. Told me where to wait. I hadn't even looked inside her backpack, but buried at the bottom was the gun she had used."

"I'm guessing they didn't buy the whole 'my twin sister did it and told me to stand here'?"

"Oh, they knew something was off. But the precinct was a laughing stock because of how long it took them to find the serial killer. By then, Mia was long gone, and they had the perfect scapegoat, along with eyewitnesses to back up that they knew my face. Detectives even lifted some of her DNA from a few crime scenes. We matched."

For a long time, the two of them stayed silent.

"I was right, then," Odessa said finally, leaning her head on Sherry's shoulder. "Great liar. Terrible criminal."

As the rain began to slam harder against the glass, Sherry couldn't bring herself to shrug her off.

That evening, Sherry was fully prepared to step forward and take the job that had been assigned to her. Odessa took it before she could say a word. Mitchell was beginning to look frustrated, but apparently he was more interested in testing Odessa's limits than he was in making her play by the rules.

Odessa did not return until the next afternoon, and judging by the state she was in, Mitchell had gotten what he wanted.

He was all smirks as he dropped her into the common area. "Walk it off, little snake."

Her injuries were so brutal that even the other trinkets broke out of their disinterested fog to stare. She had a split lip and dried blood caking the lower half of her face. She clutched her side tenderly, staggering against the glass to stay upright on the path to her room. She left a smear of blood on the pristine wall along the way. Mitchell watched for only a minute before taking his leave.

Sherry rushed up beside Odessa. A couple of weeks ago, it would have been satisfying to see her this way. Now, Sherry couldn't bring herself to remember what that smugness would have felt like.

"What happened?" Sherry demanded.

"You should see the other guy," Odessa croaked, wincing a cold smile.

"Don't be cute," Sherry said, allowing Odessa to lean on her as they headed to the sheet-covered room. "Don't we have some kind of medic? They know it's a dangerous job."

"Already stopped by the clinic downstairs. This was all they could do. Or wanted to do, anyway."

Sherry looked the half-assed job up and down, gently touching the hand that Odessa kept pressed to her side. "Your ribs might be cracked. What the hell happened?"

"Reapers suspected my target was working for the rebellion. He was spotted with the same trinkets multiple times, so he wasn't selling. I got myself all set up to be 'rescued', and it turns out this guy is a high roller in a fighting ring. Once I realized what was happening, I called for the reapers to come collect. But before I knew it, I was in the pit with another trinket, and he was not interested in talking it out." She smiled crookedly. "What, you worried about me, or something?"

Making a face, Sherry nudged Odessa toward her bed. "Yeah. If you can't go back out there, then I'll have to. Now lay down, come on."

"Bossy," Odessa sing-songed. "Kinda hot."

"Did you get a concussion too, or what?"

Sherry helped her lay down, then started looking around for something to help. Water and cloth were easy enough to get, but Odessa needed far more than that. Noticing Sherry's plight, Odessa raised her head.

"Raquel's got salve." She pointed to the box of clothes in the corner. "Take her the sunflower dress. She'll trade."

Digging out the dress, Sherry hurried out the door to find Raquel. It was a surprisingly easy trade for a mini bottle of salve. Mini to humans, at least. The bottle was the length of Sherry's forearm. It seemed that pretty clothes were just as much a commodity as life-saving medication. Sherry was still wearing her standard issue institution-like set despite Odessa's offer to share.

Returning to Odessa's room, Sherry set everything down on the nightstand, pulled up a chair, and got to work. She started by cleaning away the blood, moving more gently when Odessa winced.

"How do you not have your own salve?" Sherry asked to distract her.

"Covering my walls was a big ask. Mitchell, in his infinite wisdom, says he doesn't want to spoil me. He has decided that I can only ask for one or the other."

"Salve seems a little more practical if you ask me."

"Can always trade if I need it." Odessa reached back behind her head to lovingly touch the sheet on the nearest wall. "Ever notice how everything meant to contain trinkets is made of glass? Polished, perfectly see-through glass. That's part of the punishment, even if no one says it out loud. We're always on display. Always meant to be looked at and humiliated. Sure, there's nothing I can do about the ceiling, but... it's something, at least."

Sherry had never thought hard about it, though it had been staring her in the face for three weeks now.

"Lift your shirt," Sherry instructed, helping her sit up.

"That's forward of you." Odessa smirked at Sherry's eye-roll and did as she was told, lifting her shirt enough to expose her ribs.

Tenderly as she could, Sherry spread a few fingertips of salve over the bruising area. It wasn't a cure by any means, but it would help with the pain. After prompting Odessa to lay back down, Sherry dabbed salve onto Odessa's lip. Their eyes met, and Sherry felt heat rush to her cheeks.

Odessa shut her eyes for a moment and released a heavy sigh, reaching up to squeeze Sherry's hand.

"I poisoned the keeper," Odessa said quietly.

If she had been searching for the perfect way to kill the mood, she hit the nail on the head.

Frowning, Sherry slipped her hand free. "With what?"

"I worked in a botanical garden, remember? All kinds of plants. Prints were the only ones allowed to get up close and personal with the most poisonous ones. Prints and trinkets aren't affected the same way as humans. But let's be honest, they'd send us in there even if that wasn't in the case. Anyway, I started up a little collection, harvested the oils, and mixed them."

"He... he didn't suspect anything?"

She shook her head. "I didn't do it right away. I kept thinking... if he gets worse. And he did. I tried to convince him to stop, but he wouldn't. He had firmly decided there was nothing I could do about it, so why stop? That last night, he broke my window to get to me. The timing couldn't have been more deserved."

By that point, Sherry was fixated, forgetting the salve and soaked cloth entirely. "How did you manage to get it in his food or drink? It couldn't have been easy."

"Who said anything about food or drink?" Something sinister flickered at the back of her eyes. "I rubbed the oils all over my skin."

"Oh," was all Sherry managed to breathe out.

"Yeah. Oh. He had me strip like he normally did. Then, the moment he put his disgusting mouth on me, he was doomed. He didn't even know it. He drove home and didn't show up for his next shift. They found him in his apartment three days later."

"And they traced it back to you?"

"Well, I didn't go bragging about it." Odessa touched her sore ribs absently, staring at the buzzing fluorescent lights high above. "The autopsy revealed the poison. Those types of plants weren't native to the area and were traced to the botanical garden. And who was his only connection to the garden?"

"But you didn't slip it into his food or anything! For all they knew, you just happened to have leftover poison on your skin from working in the garden. He's the one who put his mouth on you."

Odessa laughed. "Like they gave a shit. Plenty of keepers knew he had a thing for me, then he suddenly shows up dead? They even had a few of my neighbors testify about how much I hated him. I didn't stand a chance. But... the way I went about it is also the reason I'm here to begin with."

"Oh. You said that reapers usually pick snakes, right?"

"Mitchell attended my trial when he heard what I did. It didn't last long. He approached me hours before my consciousness transfer. His timing is impeccable with that sort of thing—offering a deal just when you think things are hopeless you're desperate enough to say yes to anything.

"He said I could come work for him, or I could be shipped off to whichever business called dibs on the next trinket shipment. He fed me all this bullshit about being able to stop worse people than the keeper I killed. All he needed to say was that being a snake meant I had a fighting chance. I said yes, of course. From that moment, I was his. He even picked my new face. Took me into a storage room every night the first few weeks for training."

Sherry reached for Odessa's hand and squeezed, trying to draw her out of her distant gaze despite the quiet horror Sherry felt herself. No wonder Mitchell seemed to have the greatest sense of ownership over Odessa compared to the other snakes. She was his project.

"So," Sherry said. "Ever daydream about making some poison and letting Mitchell have a taste."

Odessa smiled wanly. "I used to. Then I realized that Mitchell is our survival. He's a sadistic fuck, but we need him."

The response took Sherry off-guard. She didn't think Odessa could look or sound so complacent.

"You're not covered in poison right now, are you?" Sherry asked. Before Odessa could process the question, Sherry leaned in and pressed a featherlight kiss to her cheek. "Thanks for taking the fall for me. Since Mitchell's off-limits, can we at least daydream that the keeper is burning right now?"

"Now that one's a favorite."

Minutes ticked by, stretching into hours as Odessa rested. Sherry didn't realize she had dozed off in the chair beside the bed until the approach of a human rattled her awake.

"Odessa, you're out of commission for the weekend, lucky you," Mitchell announced, prompting her to jolt awake too. He smiled as his icy gaze moved between them. "Sherry, your assignment's already in, and I'm nice enough to give you a head's up. Velvet Delights. Be ready by 5 for pickup."

Cold fear drenched Sherry, stealing her breath.

"What!" Odessa snapped up to sit, grimacing at her sore ribs. "She can't go to a brothel! She's never even gone to a bar!"

"See, here's the thing," Mitchell said, leaning over to look straight down into the room until they had to crane their necks. "On file, she's been doing a hell of a phenomenal job at bars for the past three weeks. Even survived a fighting ring. No one can argue that she's ready as anyone for a brothel."

Odessa snarled, kicking off her blanket and standing to glare up at him. "Send someone with experience! You know she isn't ready!"

"Whose fault is that? She could have been more than ready if you didn't coddle her."

Eyes wide and frenzied, Odessa looked to Sherry, who had her hands over her mouth as she tried to keep a sob at bay. This couldn't be happening. She'd known that eventually she would have to work, but she had all but blocked out the possibility of being tossed into a brothel.

Drawing a deep breath, Odessa squared her shoulders and looked back up at Mitchell. "Send me in with her."

His eyebrows shot up. "You have three days off."

"Which means I'm free to volunteer. You know as well as me that brothels have the highest death rate. Always better to send more than one. It divides the attention, makes it easier to get evidence."

Mitchell scoffed, but he paused to consider it. "You really are something else," he finally told Odessa. His eyes slid to Sherry for a moment, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm starting to get a little jealous if I'm being honest." He straightened and walked off. "Ready for pick up at 5," he said over his shoulder.

Sherry put on a pretty good show of pretending she wasn't scared out of her mind. In the weeks of getting to know her, however, Odessa could spot her tells. The way she rolled her shoulders. The slight pinch of her brow and lips that could be mistaken for a determined frown. The deep breaths she took to steady herself.

Velvet Delights was upscale, almost heavenly in its angel theme, which could either be helpful or disastrous. The reaper team wouldn't be far, patrolling the area and waiting for one of them to send the signal on their collars. The owner was thrilled to have a couple of free laborers, along with a promise that his inventory would not be snatched by the scheduled suspect that night.

The two of them were ordered to stand close together on the tray. Since Sherry seemed to have forgotten how to move, Odessa went and sat next to her. They were imprisoned under a wine glass and carted into a silk-lavished room. A luxury bottle of wine towered beside them. Odessa had been to enough brothels to know this setup was a special request.

The hostess straightened the pillows, made sure the glass was centered on the tray, and locked the door on her way out.

"You were right about the glass thing," Sherry whimpered in a half-assed attempt to giggle.

"Just relax," Odessa said. "Don't draw attention to yourself. Trinkets have mysteriously vanished around this guy, and that most likely means he's selling. He won't want to damage his product."

"And if he's not selling?" Sherry whispered.

Odessa squeezed her hand. "Just leave everything to me."

"You're hurt."

"The salve helped. I'm fine." Breathing only hurt a little.

The lock scraped. Sherry jumped, letting out a noise of fright. Her breathing quickened, and she shivered with the beginnings of a panic attack.

"Don't," Odessa hissed.

The door swung open, revealing a man with brown hair. When his eyes landed on them, he broke out in a smile that could light up a room. He glanced behind himself dramatically to check the number on the door.

"Am I in the right room?" he said. "Didn't know I'd be getting two. Hope I don't get charged extra."

Stripping off his jacket, he tossed it on a lounger and sauntered to the cart by the bed. He leaned over for a closer look, his fingertips trailing along the glass, tapping.

"Though... I say it'd be worth it for you two stunners."

Odessa tried to keep a neutral expression while she read him. It didn't take long to surmise that he had a thing for power. According to Mitchell, he was a bartender at a fancy downtown club. Trinkets were an everyday fixture for him, and still he visited brothels.

He reached for the bottle and worked on opening it. Didn't waste time, this one. Neither trinket said a word. "Don't be shy, now. Let's break the ice with some introductions." He popped the bottle and smiled pleasantly at them. "I'm James."

"Lolli," Odessa said, purposely trying to make herself look smaller and vulnerable.

He gave a hearty laugh, eyeing her red hair. "Lucky me. Cherry is my favorite flavor. Well, tonight it is." His gaze slid over to Sherry expectantly.

"Charity," she squeaked out, huddling closer to Odessa.

"Precious. Does that mean you're giving?" He grabbed the edge of the cart and dragged it closer. "I'm pretty giving myself, but we'll see if you're grateful enough to appreciate it."

Delicately pinching the stem of the glass, he pulled it closer, forcing them to approach him. Lifting the bottle, he tilted it to pour wine over the upended glass. Pale red dribbles raced down the outside of their prison. Odessa bit back a sneer, knowing he had either done this dozens of times or had scripted this fantasy down to the last beat in his mind.

Still, she was hardly prepared when he thudded the bottle down and slipped his hand beneath the rim of the glass. They had no choice but to scramble onto his fingers, stuck in their enclosure like captured bugs. James lifted them to eye level.

"Sorry for the theatrics," he said without sounding sorry at all. "I have my way of sampling."

Hunger, lust, and amusement battled for dominance in his gaze. Odessa bumped against Sherry as they were suddenly lowered, bringing his mouth into direct view. Sherry gave a breathless shriek as he licked the dripping wine in front of them. She snagged Odessa's arm and urged her to back up to the other side of their prison—as if it would make any difference.

As he turned his hands to drag his tongue further along, his breath fogged the glass. Odessa tried to look more frightened than outright disgusted. So, he was the type who liked to scare his victims instead of winning them over. How original. At least she did not doubt the character she had to play now.

"S-stop," Odessa said, loosing a fake sob and covering her face. "P-please!"

He pulled away, a look of deep satisfaction on his face. "You're right, I shouldn't have all the fun."

Air rushed past them as the glass was lifted off, leaving them exposed in his palm. Odessa thought for sure they were about to get the same treatment with his tongue. To her surprise, he lowered them to the nightstand and let them slide off. Grabbing a cloth from the cart, he wiped off the glass and poured himself a real drink while Sherry huddled against Odessa.

"Oh?" James took a long pull from the wine as he observed his audience of two. "Are you two friends? Adorable. That always makes things more fun." His gaze settled on Odessa. "Lolli, wouldn't you say our friend looks awfully warm in that get-up?"

The two of them wore matching white babydoll lingerie meant to make them look like angels. Instead of halos, they had their collars. Sherry shivered in her outfit like she was sitting in a snowstorm.

"In case it wasn't obvious," James said, his voice taking on an edge. "I'm telling you to take it off her."

Swallowing hard, Odessa turned to face Sherry, nodding her assurance. They needed to do what he said, lure him to let his guard down. With any luck, they could get a confession before he stole them from the brothel. Her goal wasn't to be perfect tonight; it was to get Sherry the hell out of there.

With trembling fingers that were only partly theatrics, Odessa reached for the straps of Sherry's bra. She felt sick to her stomach, particularly when she felt Sherry recoil from her touch. Sherry's voice seemed to echo from weeks ago, accusing her of being a monster. She certainly felt like one right now, though not as fearsome as the one looming over them with his expectant stare.

"I'm sorry," Odessa whispered.

Sherry looked like she might burst into tears as she dropped her head. She made no move to resist as Odessa undid the straps and pulled her bra down her arms, leaving her topless. Reaching for Sherry's panties, Odessa stopped halfway and pulled her hands back. She shook her head, leaning into her guilty expression as she looked up at James pleadingly.

James scoffed and drained the last of his wine, slamming the glass onto the nightstand beside them. "If that's too hard, tonight's gonna be a rough one for you, babe. But I guess I'll let you off the hook for now."

Odessa breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'll finish the job myself." James reached for them.

Sherry cried out in protest and latched herself to Odessa's arm, weeping. James' hand faltered as he eyed them. It wasn't pity—far from it. It was intrigue. Odessa could practically see the gears turning in his head as he took in the sight of Sherry cowering against her for protection.

He grinned. "Am I crazy, or are you blushing, Lolli?" Both. "Goddamn, more than friends, huh? I'm starting to wonder if management thinks it's my birthday or something. I'll do you a favor and show your little girlfriend how it's done, from the top."

His hand closed the distance this time, claiming Odessa as its prize. As he pulled her away, Sherry tried desperately to hold onto her, crying, "No! No!" But she fell back on the polished wood when James shook her off.

"Settle down, babe," he cooed. "You'll get your turn with her. You should be taking notes."

Odessa squirmed and whimpered in his grasp, silently relieved to have the sicko's attention focused all on her. She was no stranger to being stripped bare, but there was something particularly chilling about how expertly his fingers navigated her. He managed to be delicate and possessive all at once as he slipped off the straps of her panties and tossed them aside.

"N-no!" Odessa sobbed dramatically as he lifted her toward his mouth.

He curled his thumb in, effortlessly pinning her to his palm as hot breath spilled over her. His teeth teased at her skin gently until he found one of her bra straps. He tugged until it came loose, leaving her naked in his hand. The delicate lace was still pinched between his teeth as he pulled back to observe her. His thumb rubbed her middle up and down, testing how much pressure it would take to make her squirm in terror.

He let the lingerie fall from his mouth and flutter to the floor. "You're going to be a fun one, aren't you? Thank fuck. These high-end places usually have the prissiest trinkets."

"Please s-stop!" She dug her heels into his palm, trying to pry up his thumb. "You don't have to do this!"

"That's the best part." He leaned in again, trailing his tongue up along her side and circling her breasts while she tried to wriggle out from under his thumb. He sighed as if he couldn't be happier with how she tasted.

She could feel him start to pull away, could see that he was beginning to turn his attention back to Sherry. Odessa yanked her head up and bit his lip. He gave a start and looked down at her, jaw dropping.

"Fun and feisty," he purred. "It's like you were made for me." He caught one of her flailing arms between his teeth and bit her back. Not enough to break skin, but enough for her to let out a scream that wasn't staged.

But that did the trick. He seemed to forget Sherry for the time being, keeping Odessa clenched in his fist while he undressed. Her sore ribs screamed in agony. He moved slowly, making sure she brushed up against his body when he pulled up his shirt or unbuckled his belt. When the dizzying journey was over, he was as naked as she was. He was more muscular than she would have assumed, toned chest and abs filling her vision. She made sure he caught her staring.

A fresh grin lit up his face. "It's about to be all yours, Lollipop."

When he spread himself out on the bed silks, Odessa caught a glimpse of Sherry standing helplessly on the nightstand. Her shoulders moved up and down with visible breaths of panic. Odessa felt a fierce tug at her heart, but she didn't dare look too long, lest James get new inspiration to have Sherry join the party.

As it turned out, Odessa didn't have much of an opportunity to stare, anyway. James laid back and put one arm behind his head, observing as he dangled her by an ankle. He twisted his fingers, scrutinizing her at every frightened angle. He breathed with deep contentment, trailing her up and down his chest and abs.

Only her hair tickled at him at first, but with each stroke, he claimed more of her. Arms, face, shoulders, back, breasts, until the entire length of her was skating along the heat of his skin. When she managed to catch a glimpse of his face, she realized he wasn't even looking at her. She followed his gaze overhead and nearly gagged. There was a mirror on the ceiling, and he was fixated on the sight of himself torturing her.

She put on a good show for him, whimpering and squirming and trying to pull herself up to avoid touching him. She dug her fingers into his skin and made him groan. She screamed a few profanities for good measure, followed by desperate apologies begging him to forgive her.

He loved it. Now if she could just get him to confess.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay," she babbled to herself out loud, as if she had completely lost it. "Just tonight, and he'll be gone. I can do this, I c-can do this."

He paused, stopping her halfway down the slope of an ab. "Aw, you're gonna hurt my feelings. Wouldn't you want to stay with me forever?"

A sob wracked through her. "You can't have me! You'll have to give me back."

Her vision spun as he carried her in front of his face to look her over. His chuckle was sinister, but not damning. She wanted to scream in frustration. Just say you're stealing us, already! She kicked her free leg and writhed, actually feeling his fingertips get tugged from the motion.

"Fuck, you're a fiery one," he murmured low in his throat.

That was all he had to say for now. She saw the lust gathering in his eyes, the way his breaths became deeper. He sat up halfway and dragged her down the planes of his body once more, not pausing to drag her back up this time. With a sinking heart, she knew the destination he had lovingly chosen for her.

Seeming miles away, Sherry let out a shriek as she watched from the nightstand. "No! No, don't, please!"

Odessa blocked it out. She would have to deal with this before she could hope to get any info from him. It was far from her first time. As he pressed her up against his hardening cock, she shut down entirely and let it happen. His fingers guided her up and down, the motion becoming rougher by the second.

But he was more sensitive to her mood than she gave him credit for.

"Aw, what happened to all that fire?" he grunted.

Just as quickly as the pressure had started, it faded. He pulled her away from his dick, and she watched in horror as he turned his attention to Sherry's frantic form pacing on the edge of the nightstand.

"Maybe our girlfriend here will be a little more fun. It's her you want, isn't it?"

Odessa's reaction was genuine as she abandoned everything she knew about being a snake. "You keep your sick hands off her!"

But that only inspired him to move quicker. "There's the fire, Lollipop."

His other hand raced to snatch up Sherry. He laid back down, pausing to relish the violent squirms in both his fists before he placed them on his stomach. He stared down expectantly at them like they had been deposited on a stage. He raised his eyebrows viciously at Odessa.

"If you're not a fan of making me happy, I'll let you make your girl wet instead." He reached past them and started stroking himself with anticipation. "Go on."

Odessa turned to Sherry as the two of them rose and fell in tandem with their tyrant's breathing. She reached for Sherry's hand and squeezed. Biting her lip, Odessa searched desperately for some confirmation that this was okay, that they could do what they needed to continue the job. But Sherry gave her head the smallest, pleading shake as tears streamed down her face.

Not here. Not like this.

Turning murderous eyes toward James, Odessa dropped her act entirely and flipped him off. "I'm not putting my hands on her for you, you fucking psychopath."

James groaned in disappointment. "You know, it turns me on a little less every time someone calls me that."

Quick as lightning, he tore Odessa away from Sherry and dumped her in the glass on the nightstand.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Odessa pounded her fists against her damp prison as Sherry became the object of James' scrutiny.

He plucked her up under the arms, watching the panicky kick of her legs. "Oh, don't be like that. Your girlfriend didn't even want you. Don't worry, Charity, I'm here for you now."

Sighing in rapture, he leaned in and pressed kisses to her writhing body. Sherry's whimpers took on a higher octave as he nibbled at her panties. That was all the warning he gave before jerking his head back and ripping them free of her body entirely. He spat them out, eyeing her with a crooked, boyish smile.

"Doesn't that feel much better?"

He teased her with a few more deep kisses, poking his tongue between her legs long enough to elicit an involuntary moan.

"Listen to that. You love it."

He dropped her back on his chest. He nudged her to lay face down and let his hand fall over her, massaging himself with her squirms. He rubbed her down to his abs and back up again. Her muffled cries were silenced each time he fully smothered her, only to surface again when he eased up on the pressure. He couldn't seem to get enough of the rhythm.

All the while, Odessa did not stop shrieking for his attention. By the time he turned his gaze back to her, her throat felt screamed raw. He ignored Sherry's violent struggles against his chest to give Odessa a chiding look.

"No whining, now. You had your chance with her. But don't worry, I'm generous enough to include you."

James sat up halfway and lifted his hand to set Sherry loose. She slid partway down his stomach, scrambling to cling to him so wouldn't slip onto his erection.

"See?" he chuckled, giving her another rub against him. "She's crazy about me."

Reaching past Odessa, James snagged the wine and poured it over her head, filling the glass until she was swimming. Surfacing, Odessa grabbed hold of the rim and coughed. "L-leave her alone! Use me instead!"

The shadow of his hand darkened over her. "You talk too much."

His fingertip came down on her head and dunked her under the wine. He held her down for a good long time while she thrashed and tried to dodge around his finger, which only shoved her down further.

Even when he let her come back up for air, she was given only a millisecond to gather herself. He plucked up the glass and swirled his wine, making her dizzy as she struggled to keep her head up. She slammed into the side of the glass and nearly passed out from the explosive pain in her ribs.

Then he lifted the rim to his lips and took a long gulp. She was too disoriented to swim away from the current rushing into his mouth. Once he caught her arm between his teeth, she could do nothing but wait until he was satisfied with his drink.

As the wine settled back in the glass, Odessa gasped for breath and pushed her wine-soaked hair out of her eyes. She spotted Sherry crawling away on James' stomach. She made it to the sheets before he noticed, chuckling with delight.

"Oh, you like games?" The wine that held Odessa rippled at the rumble of his voice. Sherry moved faster and ducked under a fold. James gave her a head start before setting the glass down so he could poke through the sheets in search of her. "Ready or not..."

While he was distracted, Odessa frantically tapped at her collar to activate the tracker and communicator.

"He confessed," she coughed out, keeping her voice low so James wouldn't hear her. "He has other trinkets with him! He made other stops before this one. Come on, hurry!"

There was an agonizing pause in which James crowed in triumph upon finding Sherry. She screamed as she was yanked out of her hiding place.

"No shit?" Mitchell's voice crackled through the collar. "On our way."

James settled back down, holding Sherry in a fist. He kneaded her front with his thumb as he entertained himself with her weakening struggles.

"P-please," she said. The fight seemed to leave her body. She looked right at him, trying to appeal to a better nature that just wasn't there. "I don't belong h-here. I'm innocent, you have t-to understand! I was framed. Please, please believe me. S-stop this..."

He pursed his lips and nodded along as if he was listening. When she was done, he broke out in a grin so wicked that Odessa swore she felt the temperature drop. "As if I don't hear that same sob story every damn day of my life."

Sweeping his hand out, he deposited Sherry beside his swollen cock.

"Let's see what you got," he said, his voice growing huskier. "Make me happier than you did the judge, and I might be nice."

Sherry tried to run for the sheets again.

"Do I have to do everything around here?" James sighed, though he sounded pleased as could be.

His hand barreled into her and shoved her back where he wanted. He pressed her up against himself with his thumb, rubbing in tight circles. As his panting grew more frantic, he seized both her and his cock in one hand, hiding her entirely with his fingers as he began to jerk himself off. His hand pumped up and down, drowning out Sherry's sobbing screams.

"Stop!" Tears flooded Odessa's eyes, mixing with the wine. "P-please! Just stop!"

His head snapped toward her, wearing a toothy grin. "Don't think I've forgotten about my Lollipop," he panted.

He grabbed the glass and tipped it into his open mouth with reckless abandon. Wine poured in and spilled out the sides. Odessa scrambled to grab hold of something as gravity took over, but there was nothing she could do to stop herself as he tipped her over entirely. The cold glass was replaced with a warm, slick cavern.

Light vanished when he shut his mouth. The surface beneath her lurched upward. His tongue mashed her against the roof of his mouth while he swallowed the rest of the wine around her. The gulp was deafening.

Once she was the only occupant in his mouth, he began toying with her. His teeth narrowly missed crushing her limbs as he clenched his jaw and moaned from the ecstasy of Sherry's struggles. He tilted his head back, and for an awful moment, Odessa thought he was about to swallow her next. Instead, he opened his mouth and left her propped up with his tongue, allowing her a view straight up at the ceiling mirror.

In the reflection, she saw how he parted his fingers around Sherry, giving her a chance to shriek freely. Then he pressed his fingertip to the back of her head to muffle the sound again. An answering groan quaked around Odessa.

She gave a wordless cry and tried to grab his teeth and haul herself out of his mouth. His tongue practically wrapped around her and reeled her back in. He shut his mouth again, rolling her around and sucking on her like a piece of candy.

To her shock, he stuck his fingers in his mouth to grab her by the ankle and pull her out. Losing no rhythm with Sherry, he leaned over to the freshly-refilled wine glass and dunked Odessa headfirst inside. He swirled her around and yanked her out just as suddenly. Holding her over his open mouth, he let wine drip onto his waiting tongue.

Odessa couldn't muster the energy to plead or hurl profanities at him. The hold on her ankle vanished, and she was dropped back toward her dark prison. She managed to twist in the air, landing on the corner of his mouth with her legs halfway out. His teeth came down on her torso, gnawing with dangerous pressure. She tried to wrench her way free, but it was no use. While she was pinned, his tongue returned to greet her, and his finger nudged her the rest of the way in.

James gave another deafening moan of appreciation as he savored her wine-soaked skin.

The noises became more consistent, and his movements quickened. He was heading toward climax. Odessa couldn't help but feel a tiny measure of relief as she curled herself away from his teeth. It was almost over.

Then, to her horror, his tongue began nudging her toward his throat.

In that instant, there was no doubt in her mind that he meant to swallow her as the finale of his pleasure. She scrambled to pull herself away, but there was a shift in gravity as he tilted his head back again to thwart her pitiful struggles.

"NO!" she howled, but the sound went nowhere. The harder she tried to pull herself up, the further she seemed to fall. Her legs slipped into a steep drop.

There was a sharp knock at the door.

Suddenly, she was tilted back to the center of his tongue.

"Occupied," James snapped, teeth gnashing against Odessa's shoulder.

The door banged open. He was so startled that he bit down on her arm. A wail of pain tore out as an incisor cut her. It was a miracle that the bone wasn't crushed.

She felt him cringe at the taste of blood. He plucked her out of his mouth. She coughed herself ragged while his fingers pinched her by the diaphragm and spine. Snagging Sherry's limp body, he used the same hand to toss the sheet over his nudity.

"What the fuck is going on?" James roared, making Odessa slam her hands over her ears.

It all happened in a whirlwind.

Odessa and Sherry were confiscated by Agent Taylor while Agent Mitchell gave orders to the others. They were kind enough to let James put some clothes back on before he was dragged into a corner for rapid questioning.

The trinkets were placed back on the cart tray, but it seemed everyone forgot to give them the privilege of clothing. Sherry looked ready to faint as she stumbled over to Odessa and threw her arms around. She wasn't crying, just breathing heavily. She pressed her hand to Odessa's wound to help staunch the bleeding. Odessa sank with her and held her close, knowing that things were not about to get any easier.

As everything unfolded around them, Odessa found herself looking at Sherry's face. Her gaze was fixed on James across the room. Where there should have been fear, there was pure, unadulterated hatred. She hadn't even looked this angry when she found out the truth about Odessa's role in her capture.

She looked like she would kill if given the opportunity.

"Are you okay?" Odessa whispered.

Sherry blinked and shook her head as tears began falling. Sniffling, she surprisingly chuckled. "Sorry, I know I'm going against lesson one. No benefit to crying here."

Giving a small sob herself, Odessa tucked a lock of hair behind Sherry's ear. "Hey, don't tell anyone, but I was crying half the time. Didn't do me much good, either."

"I'm telling you, I don't know about any other trinkets!" James insisted, pulling their attention back.

Mitchell, looking like he had just won the lottery, walked over to the cart. "Where are the others?" he directed at Odessa.

When she didn't answer, his smile dropped. He leaned in closer, expression darkening dangerously.

"There are no others," Odessa said, figuring she may as well rip off the band-aid.

Mitchell went perfectly still. "But you got a recorded confession?"

"Nope."

And with that, James was released with a heartfelt apology and an assurance that he would be compensated for his night at the brothel, along with a promise that the agency would negotiate with the owner about a few free nights.

"You're lucky if I don't sue the shit out of you," James snapped, making his way to the door.

But Odessa doubted he would. He had to be a black market dealer, or a skilled independent seller at the very least. He wouldn't dare draw the attention of a lawsuit. Even if he didn't complete his fantasy that night, he was walking away with the knowledge that reapers were on his tail, and now he could act accordingly.

Odessa swore he winked in her and Sherry's direction on his way out.

Mitchell sent out the rest of the team while he remained in the room with Odessa and Sherry. He loomed over the tray, looking ready to break them both in half. His hands even flexed at his sides as he gathered himself.

"What the fuck was that?" he managed finally, each word coated in malice.

"He was going to kill us both," Odessa said calmly.

She was prepared when the weight of his hand fell on her, but nothing could help the pain of her ribs crushing against her lungs.

"Like I give a shit," Mitchell hissed. "Snakes die. That's how it goes."

"If you're willing to let your best snake die over one creep, you're a fucking moron."

He pulled out his work phone, which didn't surprise her in the slightest. She took the deepest breaths she could manage, though it wouldn't do her much good. He was going to choke her until she passed out—it wasn't the first time. But when he finished tapping at the screen and looked down at her with relish, her collar didn't tighten.

Sherry gave a shrill squeal. She fell to her knees, clawing at the collar. Odessa gasped and bucked uselessly, every one of her injuries smarting as she fought.

"Quit it!" Odessa pleaded. "It's not her fault! I made the call!"

"She's nothing but a distraction to you," he said grimly. "Maybe this will show you what happens when you let your precious little wants get in the way."

He let her up, and she rushed to Sherry. It wasn't mercy; he intended for Sherry to die in her arms.

"If I lose her, you lose me!" Odessa shouted. "I'll fuck up every job, and you can choke me to death, too! Now stop!"

Mitchell let it go on for a few more seconds, but he did stop, looking weary. "What the hell am I supposed to do, Odessa? You ruined a perfectly set-up sting because you couldn't let your girlfriend take a little punishment."

"It won't happen again. I know she can survive now. I'm going to train her until she's perfect, for real this time."

He paced in front of them while Sherry wheezed and leaned against Odessa for support.

"The station's not gonna go under just because two little snakes are gone," Mitchell said, coming to a stop in front of them. "Either she's an asset or a problem. She'll make it clear which one when she goes on her first solo job."

With that, he scooped up Sherry, leaving Odessa alone on the tray. At first, she was confused as she watched Sherry get handed off to Agent Taylor in the hallway. But as Mitchell shut the door behind him and started taking off his jacket, she knew precisely what was happening.

She wanted to collapse and sob and beg that she couldn't take anymore tonight, but she was better than that. She held her ground as he loosened his tie and gave her a deeply possessive look.

"Well, my shift's over just about over," he said. "It's been a while, hasn't it? You want to keep your cute little girlfriend? Convince me."

At dawn, Sherry padded to Odessa's room. It had been stripped bare of incentives, including the sheets on the walls. It was as empty as Sherry's now. Her clothes were standard issue. A small spot of blood seeped through the cloth bandage on her arm. She couldn't trade for salve. She had nothing.

Well, not nothing, Sherry decided. She could have been confiscated just as easily.

Sherry crawled up beside Odessa, whispering an apology when she startled her. Odessa lay with her back to the doorway, curled into herself. No blankets. No pillow. Just the two of them. Sherry wrapped her arms around her from behind.

"Hey, queen," she whispered. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Nothing that hasn't happened before."

"That doesn't mean you're okay." Sherry slipped a hand to Odessa's ribs. "Sorry," she murmured when Odessa flinched.

"No, it's alright." Odessa placed a hand over hers, using it to rub a slow circle on the sore spot. Then she guided Sherry's hand higher and left it on her breast. Sherry squeezed gently and ran her thumb up and down. As right as it felt, Sherry stopped herself.

"Aren't you tired of being touched?" Sherry murmured.

"You're not them." Odessa's voice sounded tight. "You're soft. You could never hurt me."

Moving Odessa's hair out of the way, Sherry pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, trailing up until she reached her jaw, her cheek. Her lips brushed Odessa's ear. "Tonight may have been a bust, but on a normal job, it must feel good to put away sick fucks like that bartender," she whispered.

Odessa gave a weak laugh. "You're buying into the bullshit, huh? Saving the world? You realize we're not helping anyone, right? Just sending off our 'rescues' to a different circle of hell."

"At least the sick fucks are joining them along the way."

Odessa turned in Sherry's arms to face her more fully. "Rebels join them just the same. Tell me you know that."

Sherry was quiet for a moment, feeling an odd sting of guilt for something she hadn't even done yet. "I know."

She reached for Odessa's chin and gently guided it closer. Their lips touched softly at first, then fell into deeper, more frantic kisses. The fluorescents beat down mercilessly on them. Anyone could watch, but they didn't care.

"I think I'm ready to start doing my job," Sherry said between kisses as they leaned their foreheads together.

Odessa snorted. "I can't tell if you're lying."

"Then I know I'm ready."

#gt #gt writing #giant #tiny #giant tiny #gt horror #my writing #print universe #trinket universe #heart of gold #playing with fire #odessa #sherry #agent mitchell #agent taylor #james #size difference #mywriting

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs

Super excited about this guys, it went in a direction I did not expect, and you will learn a ton more about one of my alien species :) 

“Commander!”

“Krill, hell am I glad to see you.”

Overhead, the dark shape seemed to coalesce from the night, into a familiar human form. Though Krill couldn’t see his face, he would have known his voice anywhere.

“I’,worried that you had died, commander.”

“Only just avoided it.” He whispered,d “now enough with the reunions and time for an escape.”

Krill watched him crawl along the bars of the cage and down the other side, floating over to be at the door when it opened. There was a sharp hiss and the door popped inward, revealing the man in the half light of a distant, glowing orb.

The man looked, a mess.

His hair had grown long and scruffy around his ears and cheeks. He was sporting a short beard, and - “What the hell are you wearing.”

“Hey, they caught me on laundry day alright, I had to improvise.

” Krill shook his head but floated form the doorway, “What happened, how did you end up here…. How did you escape?” He had to admit, he was both impressed and surprised at the commander’s escape, it was leaning towards smarter than he would have usually given the man credit for, but by now krill had learned that while commander vir was an idiot, he was an intelligent one.

“Got sucked into a wormhole, spat out on some tropical desert sort of planet thing. Got attacked by a blue raptor and was rescued by the omnidroids.”

“The omnidroids?”

“You know those big tall grey guys with five limbs?”

“Ah yes, that sounds like what happened to me….. And this escape plan of yours.” He was almost jealous that Adam had managed to escape before he had, but he supposed the human had some inherent advantages that he just did not.

Adam crouched low, dragging krill to the side as a group of giant scorpions scuttled past in the distance, not something that the two of them wanted to get involved in.

“I spent the first few days testing to see how much they watched me, and how much it would take to get them to come running. When i Had everything mapped out I moved to the top of the cage, so I wouldn’t make them suspicious the first go around. Luckily for me they sort of noticed and set up a little hanging nest for me up there.” He flexed his hands, “Then I used the iron eye to bend the bars and escape. Now I am letting out all the other animals on my way out of this place.”

Not bad, not bad at all, though Krill would call it less of a plan and just characteristically flying by the seat of his pants, but he had a new motto for the commander that he thought encompassed his behavior really well.

It’s not stupid if it works.

He grabbed Krill by the upper arm and dragged him behind, “Come on, we’ve gotta get out of here before.”

Sirens.

And flashing red lights.

“Shit!”

Commander Vir and Krill dived into the bushes watching as a large creature made of waving tentacles rolled past.

The sirens above their heads were deep and booming, and almost as soon as they had gone off the entire park was alive with voices and the whirring sound of drones.

Three of them cut past chasing down the tentacle ball as Adam and Krill crouched in the shadows.

“Krill, you have a big brain, do you remember the way to their docking station?”

“I…. well yes of course I do.”

“Alright, than we head there?”

“And how exactly do you plan on getting out of here.” Krill wondered as they continued to slip their way through the bushes.

“I uh, well I hadn’t really gotten to that part yet.”

Krill would have rolled his eyes if he had had them,  but at this point in his life, he was too jaded to really even care that the human had no real plan. It was just good to be back with his friend. They crouched in another set of bushes watching silently as a group of aliens attempted to wrangle some sort of large panther like beast, It had eight limbs and a head sort of like a cat except for the tubular protrusions on the side of its neck.

“I’m sorry I got you into this Krill, I…. I thought I had saved everyone.”

Krill shook his head, “Put the self blame away for the moment Commander. We need to get out of here.”

“Alright, alright.”

KRill grabbed the back of the man’s iron eye armor as he slipped through the bushes, following Krill’s instructions as they moved through the massive zoo. Whenever they could they continued to unlock enclosure doors, and for every one of the creatures that they caught there were always more to take their place.

They were coming up on the edge of the building when commander Vir pulled up with a curse.

Krill peered over his shoulder and immediately saw the problem.

Forty foot high steel walls with cameras and drones on all sides.

He cursed again crouching low in the bushes as another group of keepers ran by, heading in the opposite direction.

“Well, now what do we do?” Krill wondered, and the human was quite for a moment.

He flipped up the eyepatch he had still managed to hold onto and scanned his surroundings with the slow sweep of his head, “Ah ha,” he gestured towards the wall, and a large spherical building that was pressed right up to it, “That doesn’t look like an enclosure, and twenty bucks says it has a door that leads out of this place and onto the landing field that you were talking about.”

Krill sighed, “Of course it can never be easy.”

Commander Vir shrugged,  “We’ve had worse.”

“When have we had worse!” 

“We went to prison that one time, remember?”

“I try not to.”

He sighed puffing himself up in preparation for what was about to happen, “Alright, lets do this.”

The human cracked his knuckles and his neck, “Let’s do this.”

*** “What is happening! How can they all have escaped!”

They stood at the center of the control room, their eyes on the cameras, turning in circles as they tried to figure out just exactly was going on. Their establishment was in chaos, and now half of his animals were running rampant without supervision, sometimes attacking each other, and sometimes causing mayhem with his infrastructure.

“There are 41 cages open. Which makes 90 animals released, and we have recaptured five.”

“Only 85 more to go.” They snapped, “How could this have happened, there is no way to open their doors from the inside.”

“There is evidence that they were tampered with manually from the outside.”

The little hologram flickered and the head keeper snarled in disgust, “Was it one of the keepers.”

There was a sharp hiss as another one of the holograms appeared.

“We might have found the genesis of all the problems.”

“Go on.”

There was a sudden flare and one of the cameras turned on the Duos enclosure and zoomed in to the top part of the cage. At first it was difficult to make out what was going on, and then he saw it: the large hold that had been bent in the bars.

“The Duos escaped first it seems.” They began, “And with its hands it could have easily opened the cages.”

“But those cages were pattern locked!”

“I don't know if you know this, but you can see the door to the next cage over from the viewing window. If the creature watched you and saw…. It might have been able to reproduce it.” The head keeper stomped about the floor in anger, “Alright, alright, get to work. Find the Duos and the other and get everything back into shape. I want this all cleaned up before opening tomorrow.

The holograms clicked off, and they were  left only with the dim blue light of the other camera feeds to cover them. That was when they heard the noise.

IT was soft at first, just a gentle padding over the floor behind them, and with a sudden sense of dread they turned in their spot coming almost face to ace with a leering shape from the darkness.

In the half light, the Duos face was a malevolent well of shadow and light, shadow pooling around the eyes while blue light cast sharp contrast in through its cheeks.

At it’s back hung the Planita staring at him with it’s large orange, prismatic eyes.

He froze.

The duos simply stood there for a long moment, very still.

He tried not to move knowing that one spit of it’s toxic breath would be the end.

Something seemed wrong about the way it moved, when it stepped towards him it’s back was straight, its movement was sure. The jittery skittish behavior it had shown earlier was no longer, leaving behind only the glittering white eyes and the sharp white teeth.

It opened its mouth saliva glittering on the protruding bone.

They couldn't hear it make it’s vocalizations as high as they were, but watched in awe as the small plantlike creature spoke back.

The creature walked around them light glittering overt the metal fame that encased it.

It took his potion before the console, and withing a few moments had somehow managed to summon the controls.

It must have been watching them from the darkness.

They tried to take a step back, but the head snapped around and the Duos bared it’s teeth one green eye burning bright.

They froze.

THe Does reached forward and with another small conversation between it and the creature, it began fiddling with the controls.

Lights around the park shut off, water stopped running, electricity was powered off, and finally, all the cage doors were opened.

The creature turned to look at them as they stared in horror as the park was overrun in a matter of seconds.

The creature barred its teeth, and they didn’t need to be able to speak the creature’s language to know that was an expression of triumph. Looking into the wide green eyes, they suddenly realized their mistake.

This was no animal….

There was too much intelligence glittering behind those eyes for that to be the case.

IT was sentient.

And they had trapped it in a zoo

Gods help them.

They closed their eyes, expecting the creature to exact it’s revenge, but instead there was another pattering noise, and they opened their eyes to turn and watch the thing slip through the outer door and to freedom.

The duos was loose, and there was nothing they could do about it.

***

Sunny and the others stood at the center of a sea of watching eyes. Their host, as of yet unnamed, stood before them.

IT looked like a burg, sort of though instead of a muddy brown carapace with brightly colored limbs, it had a shiny black carapace like a beetle, with large yellow eyes, and wriggling antenna. The strangest thing about it was the wings, they were large an rested down along the creature’s back covered in colorful swirling patterns.

None of them had ever seen anything like it.

Sunny held up her spear.

“What do you want.”

“I just want to talk.” It said, the voice was soft despite the mandibles, and though it spoke Burg, the voice in itself was not unpleasant, “I need your help.”

“Who are you!” Sunny demanded.

The creature clicked it’s mandibles and held out it’s arms. Behind it, the large butterfly-like wings spread out to either side, the membrane delicate enough to allow the glowing green light from the mushrooms to diffuse through the membrane.

“I am Zaran, King of the burg.”

WIth that declaration, more weapons were raised pointed directly at the burg’s chest.

He held up his hands,

“Please, I mean you no harm.”

“You’re a burg! Of course you do!” Thomas snapped from somewhere in the back.

The Burg sighed and dropped his head, “Yes, we do give that impression don’t we, but it wasn’t always like that.”

Sunny did not lower her weapon but paused, “What do you mean.”

All around them, the colorful winged burg shifted in their places, though none of them seemed particularly hostile.

Zaran raised a hand and motioned about the room, “What you see here is what fragments remain of the male population in the burg capital.”

“Male? WHat are you talking about. I thought that-”

“All of them are female, all the ones you would have met anyway.”

Sunny stared at him, “But their voices.”

“Have no bearing on which sex a burg is.” The Burg king turned his back on them and stepped over the stones wings fluttering gently, “You see, that is how the burg have always functioned, as hives with a higher population of female workers. They are stronger, faster and more durable to be able to scavenge for us. They are our warriors and our providers. More of them are born every ear than we are. The split is an almost ten two one female to male ratio.” he turned to look at them, “The only reason we have been kept around for so long is that we are required in the reproduction chain.” 

“So you're the burg king because….” Ramirez trailed off in disgust.

“The queen does favor me yes.” His wings shifted a bit, “But it was not always like this. The queen has reigned for over 400 years…..” He dropped his head, “No one could have known that she would have demonstrated such spite and hate.”

“Wait, 400 years! I thought burg only lived to be about 100.”

“The queen can live much longer if she is taken care of properly.” He motioned around the cave, “As can we, though I am the only one old enough to remember the prior regime. Our old queen was hard, she had to be, but she was also fair and just. This queen…. She was spoiled as a pupae, and I think that may have ruined her forever. She always had a sadistic streak. Her policies always toed the line to being inappropriate. We should have known this would happen when she voiced her ideas about how we had no real use other than for reproduction. When the last queen died under suspicious circumstances, we were quickly rounded up and placed here.”

There was a silence.

then .

“So you have been tapped in this cave for over 400 years!”

“Yes. I have been any way. I am let out every month or so to…. Help the queen, but other than that I have been here for much of that time. Unfortunately for me I have seen many friends come and go as they are not cared for as well as I. I do whatI can, but there is only so much I have managed.”

Mav and Ramirez looked between each other, and Sunny continued on, “You’re telling me that burg were not always like this. Vengful and hateful and… and-”

He shook his head, “No, no! The burg were always easily offended, yes but we challenged each other to games of chance, not wars. Loyalty was one of our greatest strengths. However the female population does not live so long as the queen herself, and in only a few  generations she was able to brainwash all of her followers into behaviors that were not part of us. She turned them to hate and anger and suspicion. She encouraged their infighting, and she destroyed our religious traditions.”

They listened in awe and in sadness for this creature.

“Once upon a time that would have been my duty, as a religious leader and a diplomat for conflicts. That is why there has always been a king, to temper the aggressive tendencies of a queen.”

“Have your queens always looked like jaba the hutt.” Cannon elbowed thomas in the side, and Sunny felt a pang of sadness wash through her. Why did Thomas have to act so much like Adam sometimes.”

The king may not have understood the reference, but he seemed to understand the meaning, “Well…. Not exactly. Due to the way she is being fed, she never exactly exited her larvae form. Generally a queen is one of the only burg females that will ever have wings through…. The need to be cared for just right for that transformation to happen, though that is beside the point. Now that you know my story, I need you to help me.”

The group looked around at each other and nodded, “What do you need… your highness.”

“I want to return to the Burg nation to their former glory. I want us to be what we once were, and I want to overthrow a tyrant.” He shuffled his feet awkwardly, “That is the first time I have said something like that outloud,” He looked up at them, “The queen has been killing any who might be considered her replacement. All the females born who could be considered a new queen are quietly taken and killed, but I know of one, She is still in her egg, but upon seeing her, I knew what she might be. The others have no idea, but I do. If you can get that egg and protect it, we can Kill the queen and install a new ruler. The workers would have to follow her, they are programmed to do so, and if you install me as an advisor to the young queen, maybe I can impart the past on her. Change the way things are around here.”

There was silence for a moment, and then.

Sunny struggled inwardly. She still blamed the burg for what had happened, but now that she had the whole story, it seemed as if they were just as much a victim as the people they had attacked.

She couldn’t just ignore that.

Finally she broke the silence, “Alright, we will help you. Where can we find the egg?”

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

Eiji and Ankh, M (Ever Ever After by Carrie Underwood)

M is for music, and “Ever Ever After,” by Carrie Underwood, is a blast from the past for me and can be found on YouTube. (That version isn’t on Spotify, but if you want to listen to the song there, they do have a version by Jordan Pruitt.) After you read this, it may be worthwhile to go back and read this previous prompt.

Ankh is not, for the most part, familiar with the stories that humans tell each other for comfort. He couldn't care less about human comfort, honestly. But he does know one thing: fairy tale monsters don't get happy endings. If they're lucky they get to eat whatever sickening ingenue is the supposed hero of the story. Some run with their tails between their legs. Mostly, though, they die, killed by knights and heroes and the stupid sons of farmers.

He doesn't bother with the tales, but he's seen some of the art made to go with them. He knows what he is in this story. Consigned once more to a dull and colorless world in which Hino Eiji is the one inexplicable spot of color is probably the best ending he could have hoped for.

Even so, it’s getting harder to focus.

Initially, in the first few years after his...death, his loss, his shattering, he remains aware at all times. During the day he floats behind Eiji, silent and unseen, disgusted by the grayness of the world after a year of light and color. At night, he stands a useless guard, hovering over the one and only object of his desires as if he would be able to do anything to help should danger come. He sees adventures, triumphs, failures, so much gained and so much loss, many and many another hero coming and going and none of them ever as good.

And once, a single, glorious hour of new life, and the feeling of Eiji’s hand in his again.

It’s after that, really, that he finds things becoming difficult. Being able to manifest physically once more had been a gift, but it took so much energy. He continues to follow Eiji, because what else can he do? What else is there for him? But as time stretches on, he finds himself--blacking out, he supposes he might say, the way he sometimes sees Eiji grow tired and succumb to ever-longer blinks before finally falling asleep. At first the black-outs last for minutes, then hours, then days, eventually stretching out to weeks, or maybe months, or maybe longer. He’s only vaguely aware of the passage of time as it is.

And then, after the longest one yet--he wakes up. And he’s cold.

That’s what gets his attention first, that he’s cold, that he feels cold. It’s all he can think about for a minute or two, and then he shifts slightly and realizes that he has multiple limbs, that his hair is in his eyes, that he is stark naked except for a red silk he’d almost forgotten he once had and he seems to be sitting on the floor in someone’s living room.

The first thing Ankh says, having been resurrected, is, “What the fuck just happened?”

“Ankh?”

His head whips around. “Eiji? You, I, you’d better not be dead, I swear to fucking--what’s wrong, you’re extremely pale, what’s happened.”

Eiji grins at him, looking dizzy and, yes, pale, and raises his hand despite the quiet scolding of the old man currently wrapping it in bandages. “Well, it took kind of. A lot of blood.” An unsteady shift forward. “Actually, I think I need to take a nap.”

And he passes out, leaving Ankh to turn to the next person he sees--an elderly woman who’s looking very pleased with herself--and saying, “Ok, what the fucking hell just happened here, and what did you do to Eiji?”

--

Eiji regains consciousness to the sound of Ankh and Dr. Zhakiyanova arguing loudly in German, and Dr. Zhakiyanova��s husband Dr. Caspari saying, in French, “Here, young man, sit up, you fainted, you need to eat something.”

This is easier said than done, but he does manage to struggle upright after a moment. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me until you’ve eaten, young man. Here, there’s tea, and you should eat at least two cookies, it’ll take a bit to get your strength back up.”

Eiji considers pointing out that he’s hardly a young man, he’s nearly fifty, but then he takes a bite of the cookie Dr. Caspari hands him and decides that it really doesn’t matter.

For a few minutes he just sits there, drinking amazingly good tea and eating what might be the best cookies he’s ever had in his life and watching in joyful disbelief as Ankh continues to yell in German. Dr. Zhakiyanova stands there patiently, waiting until there’s a gap in his tirade, and then says, very clearly even to Eiji’s mostly-incomprehending ear, “Young man, perhaps you should put some clothes on.”

Ankh sputters out something about being older than her and then sits down heavily on the couch next to Eiji with his red silk wrapped around him like a robe of state. “Where the hell am I?”

Eiji swallows his mouthful of tea and says, “Northern Kazakhstan. Cookie?”

More outraged sputtering. “You gave your blood to some witch just to bring me back?”

“Hey, Dr. Zhakiyanova’s not just a witch, she has a PhD. She’s a highly respected academic.”

“Eiji. How much blood did it take?”

“About five hundred milliliters,” Dr. Caspari says cheerfully, pouring a cup of tea for Ankh. “No more than the average blood donation. As long as you eat well and take in plenty of fluids you’ll be fine.”

“He says--”

“I know French, Eiji, I know most human languages, I understood what he said perfectly well.“ Ankh takes a sip of tea, blinks several times, shudders, and then looks up at Dr. Caspari and says, in perfect French, “I haven’t eaten or drunk anything in an extremely long time.”

Dr. Caspari just says, drily, “We had gathered that, yes.”

Dr. Zhakiyanova, meanwhile, is puttering around on the other side of the living room, checking on her instruments and cleaning up the circle she’d drawn on the floor and making notes. She looks enormously pleased with herself, and after a moment says something in Kazakh to her husband, who translates: “My wife says, thank your priest friend, his notes regarding the nature of the soul were very helpful.”

Eiji nods. “I’ll let Takeru know, he’ll be very happy.”

“Good, good. I’ll go get your friend some clothes, we have some of our grandson’s old things that might fit.”

Dr. Caspari bustles off. Ankh fumes into his teacup for a moment before saying, “Takeru? Is that the dead man?”

“Well, he’s not dead anymore, but he was dead. And yeah.” Eiji eats another cookie, probably too fast. “He gave me some helpful information, and Haruto--Wizard--got me some details about the stone that the Core Medals are made of, and Kouta let me have a bottle of sap from Helheim in exchange for some plant cuttings? It’s an amazing adhesive. And I paid Kougami about fifty thousand yen for a hundred Cell Medals, because I wasn’t about to agree to do him any favors.” More tea. “Dr. Zhakiyanova’s the one who figured out how to put it all together, though, she’s been working on it for seven years now.”

Ankh nods slowly and says, “I met Kouta too, didn’t I. He’s the...god.”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

Dr. Caspari comes back with an armful of clothes that he hands to Ankh. “You get dressed, young man.” A long pause to speak to his wife in Kazakh again, and then, “My wife says, your friend is very lucky, he’s like a rat.”

Ankh freezes in the middle of pulling on a t-shirt, nostrils flaring. “Excuse me.”

“No, no!” Dr. Caspari beams at him. “A rat’s a good animal. Resourceful. Rats grow to the size of their enclosures. When you were first created, you were a rat in a small cage. You were constricted. But a human body is no small cage. You should thank the human who once lent you his, it gave you room to grow. She wouldn’t have been able to do this if you hadn’t already grown from what you originally were.” Another comment from Dr. Zhakiyanova. “She also says, please excuse her for not addressing you directly, she’s had a long day and it’s easier for her to think in Kazakh right now.“

“Oh, of course, that’s completely understandable.” Eiji grins at him. “I appreciate her assistance.”

“She’s going to write a paper.” Dr. Caspari looks delighted. “I look forward to proofreading it for her.”

--

After Eiji’s lunatic alchemist friends give them more cookies, and dinner, and another armload of old clothes that are far too big for Ankh, they’re finally allowed to go home. Or not home, they’re still far from home, but to the hotel in which Eiji is staying because after all this time his back hurts too much to sleep rough.

As soon as the door is locked behind them, Ankh strips off the too-large clothes and stares at himself in the full-length mirror. He is whole again, and more than whole. No longer a parasite on a human body, but a creature in and of himself, and alive. He has blood, he has breath, he can taste and smell and feel and the world is full of colors.

He turns slightly, and a flash of light catches his eye. He leans in closer to inspect it, and sees--a crack, zig-zagging crazily down the center of his in a whisper-thin gleam of gold. Shattered no longer, but he will never again be the creature he was before he was broken.

He’s something new now.

He turns and stalks over to where Eiji is sitting on the bed, knocks him backwards, sits on top of him, and looks for the gleam of gold in his reflection in Eiji’s eyes. And Eiji looks up at him and is real, real, real, and he is, truly, the only object of Ankh’s desires.

Once, the world would not have been enough.

Perhaps he is no longer a fairy tale monster.

Ankh says, slowly, “Eiji, smile for me.”

#hino eiji #ankh #fanfiction #askrikkaiandhyotei

[whisker-biscuit]

In the Name of Science: Chapter 2

Fandom: Sonic Movie (2020)

Rating: T for unethical experimentation, implied violence and gore, and implied torture

Summary: Tom and Maddie didn’t make it in time to rescue Sonic from Robotnik. Hopefully it’s not too late to save him now.  Unfortunately, hope is hard to come by in the labs of the mad doctor himself.

Note: things are going to start getting really unpleasant from here on out. This chapter is still pretty tame, but proceed with caution.

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Dr. Ivo Robotnik, M.D. Log 2

Subject regained consciousness at 10:12 MST during initial quill examination, and was verbally hostile upon contact with lead scientist (Dr. Ivo Robotnik, M.D., PhDx5). Subject placed in temporary holding enclosure for injury recovery as well as spoken interview, which was conducted at 10:30 MST. Transcript attached below.

…….

Sonic is brought into a much larger room than the one he’d woken up in. From his position between the two floating egg-robots, he can see that this one is set up with a lot of strange machines and tables and equipment that he couldn’t possibly hope to recognize, much less name. It almost looks like a secret evil lab from one of Tom and Maddie’s movies.

This association is what really makes the reality of the situation sink in.

“Hey, uh, what’s that?” He stares at a giant tube-looking thing in the corner, trying to distract himself from darker thoughts.

Robotnik ignores him, fiddling with his recording equipment, but Agent Stone follows his gaze.

“That’s an MRI machine.”

“Oh. What’s that do?”

“It’s a –”

“I know you’re having a splendid time fraternizing with the alien lifeform, Stone, but the most important homo sapiens in your life would very much enjoy your full attention.”

“Of course Doctor, sorry!” The assistant practically prances to his boss’ side, a goofy smile on his face. Sonic doesn’t understand any of it.

Turns out it doesn’t matter either way, because the hedgehog is suddenly carried above a large metal container with an open top. With another flick of the scientist’s wrist, the robots drop Sonic and he hits the inside of the pen, hissing as all his bruises are aggravated. The ceiling door closes automatically with a whoosh.

The teen makes a few pained noises while he tries to reorient himself. He’s always healed pretty quickly but this hasn’t been nearly enough time since the fight, and his entire body is revolting. He picks himself up into a sitting position as best he can to get a better look at his situation.

He’s in a cage large enough for him to lay down and stretch in any angle, but it’s not much bigger than that. Most of the walls barring one are thick mesh with thick metal reinforcing them from behind, and half the floor is the same. The other half is covered in something that looks suspiciously like a dog bed. The ceiling is just solid metal with no mesh, and it’s roughly the same proportion as the length and width.

Sonic scoots to the front of the cage so he can watch his human captors through the single “open” wall, if bars he can only stick one finger between counts as open. His restraints are weird – they sort of resemble his rings, circled around each individual wrist and ankle and keeping them together in a way he hasn’t quite figured out yet. He tries to pull them apart without much luck.

Robotnik seems to notice the attempt, because he waves a hand in the air without turning towards the hedgehog.

“Don’t bother! Those are highly magnetic and in tune only with each other.”

“….What’s ‘magnetic’?”

“Ugh, never mind.” The scientist does a little whirl to face the cage, holding a microphone connected to the machine behind him. He taps the mic and nods in satisfaction when it echoes. “Agent Stone, start the recording procedure please.”

The assistant gives affirmation as he flips a switch. Mechanical humming fills the air. Robotnik clears his throat.

“Log date: May 14th, 2020, 10:30 am MST. First official verbal interview with extraterrestrial subject, serial designation 06231991. It is unknown whether subject will be verbally hostile, so any redacted statements during this recording will be result of vulgarity and/or dialogue irrelevant to scientific development.”

He steps up to the cage, which sits just below his eyelevel, and observes Sonic a moment. The teen stares warily back.

“Subject, do you have a title you refer to yourself as?”

“Um…”

The man heaves a giant, put-upon sigh. “A name?”

“Oh. S-Sonic. I’m Sonic.” He kicks himself for tripping over his own name. This is just talking, why is it making him nervous?

“Sonic.” Robotnik says the word like he’s about to rip it to shreds. “So, Sonic, what would you say you are?”

“A hedgehog.”

“Did you base that name on the Earth creature sharing similar features?”

“No? I’ve always been a hedgehog.” Sonic lets himself relax a little bit. It really is just talking; he can do that just fine. “S’not my fault you guys named something after me.”

“I see. How long have you been on Earth?”

“Ten years.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirteen, I think.”

The scientist pauses at that, tilting his head down a little bit in a way that’s hard to read. “Really? You’ve been on Earth for most of your life?”

“Yeah…”

“Remarkable. Living here all this time right under our noses.” He strokes his mustache with a glint in his eye. “If only I’d discovered your presence sooner, everything would have been so much cleaner.”

Sonic’s fingers curl together.

“Oh well, no need to dwell on what could’ve been, until I finally unravel the science behind time travel at least.” Robotnik lets out an arrogant laugh. Stone mirrors him from behind. “So my elusive little subject, what’s the maturation rate of your kind?”

“What?”

“Hmm. You really don’t know much of anything, do you?”

It’s said with such a belittling sneer that the teen averts his eyes for a moment, feeling his face flush.

“Least I don’t dress like a bad guy from the Matrix,” he can’t help but mumble. His captor’s eyebrow twitches.

“My aesthetic is downright prodigious, thank you very much. But we’re getting off-topic! I asked about your maturation rate, you’re not smart enough to figure out what that means from the context clues, and frankly I’m getting bored by all this hands-off interaction for the sake of formal procedure. Would you say you’re closer in relative age to a child, adolescent, or adult?”

“I don’t – I don’t know, maybe teenager? Maybe?” Sonic hates that he doesn’t know, that he has no reference for knowing. He doesn’t even have the confidence to pretend that he does.

“Oh, really. That’s very interesting.”

The hedgehog feels every quill stand up on end at Robotnik’s suddenly subdued voice. He watches as the man’s expression morphs into manic contemplation. Agent Stone seems to sense the change, because he turns off the machine that’s recording their conversation.

“You’re an adolescent then. Thirteen years old, hiding here on this planet for whatever reason, honestly I don’t really care what sort of sob story you’re peddling but I have no doubt it exists. It’s no wonder you’re so ignorant.”

“I’m not ignorant!” He raises his voice like that will help prove his point.

“Oh, but you are. An obtuse, uneducated little creature that exists in a place it does not belong. Tell me, how many humans have you made direct contact with? Let someone see the real you, had a two-way conversation on equal footing…given physical contact.”

Robotnik lifts his hand and presses one finger against the bars, as if pretending he’s petting Sonic’s head again. The teen inches away towards the back of the cage, practically baring his teeth.

“Stop it.”

“Answer the question, hedgehog.”

“No! It’s none of your beeswax anyway, so back off!”

The scientist throws back his head and cackles. He comes down from his mirth fairly quickly and wipes a tear from his eye. “Everything about you is my ‘beeswax’, my pokey little fellow. I own you. I own your powers, your thoughts, your feelings, all of it. I’m astounded it hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“Cause it’s not true, Eggman! I’m me, and that’s it!”

The air around Sonic starts crackling. Robotnik places a hand in his pocket.

“Is that what your flatfoot nursemaid told you? Thank god I got you away from such fictitious foolishness, who knows what other absurdities he was filling your spiky little head with.”

“I told you not to talk about him like that!”

Full of angry energy, Sonic launches off of his heel and rams into the front bars in the same moment Robotnik pulls out a remote and presses a single button. Electricity that doesn’t belong to the hedgehog lights up the entire cage, leaving Sonic to experience the full brunt of it with his whole body pressed against metal. He stiffens up with a wordless cry and loses both his momentum and the power coursing through him.

It discharges outward and short-circuits whatever was generating the voltage running through the pen, saving the convulsing teen from further pain. He’s twitching so much that he doesn’t even notice the ceiling door open up again, nor the floating robot that drops inside to pull away several more quills. They’re still pulsing with energy.

Robotnik closes the door behind the robot as it leaves, then turns to regard his subject who’s making little mewling noises as his muscles seize against his will. He rolls his eyes at the display because really, the voltage was not that high. It didn’t even last more than a few seconds because of the creature’s rude outburst creating that blackout in his beautiful container.

He signals to Agent Stone, who is quick to turn on the recorder again.

“Note: next question involved reasons for subject’s existence on Earth and opinion on humans, at which time subject became hostile and attempted assault. No harm came to present researchers due to precautionary measures, and subject has been successfully and safely contained. Verbal interview will be postponed for later date until subject recovers and is more willing to discuss reasons for coming here without becoming violent.”

The man shuts off his mic and passes it to his assistant, yawning with a hand pressed to his mouth.

“Walk with me, Stone. I do believe it’s a fine time for sleep, now that all the immediate excitement is over.”

“Yes, sir!”

They leave the quivering hedgehog alone with the hum of a million machines and state-of-the-art security. Halfway down the hallway, Robotnik stops.

“Oh, just a moment.” He taps his gloves a few times and something whirrs to life back in the room. “There we go!”

“Sir?”

“Almost forgot to set up a sustenance bot for the little thing. I’m so used to wonderful, unfeeling robots with no need for constant nourishment, it’s easy to forgot that these fragile organic bodies require food and water, ha!”

“Uh…but Doctor, you’re also –”

“Don’t remind me of things I don’t like being reminded of, Stone!” The scientist snaps. He runs a careful hand through his hair and straightens his jacket rather prissily. “Anyway, you said something earlier about dinner being Argentina-inspired?”

Stone beams and his shoulders lift with pride. “Yep! Milanesa a la napolitana with a sprinkling of oregano and curry powder. Should be done within an hour.”

“God, that sounds lovely. In the mean time I’ll be setting up some analysis programs for the blood and quill samples and making another written log report. Do not disturb me unless I either call you directly or dinner’s done.”

“Of course, sir.” Stone hustles down the hall and makes a right turn. Robotnik turns left.

“Now then,” he says gleefully to himself, rubbing his hands together as he plops down in his Important Analysis Chair. “Let’s get this spiky ball rolling!”

…….

Additional quill samples taken after verbal interview to compare dormant and active power input of subject. It is predicted that while the active quills contain infinitely higher levels of energy, dormant quills are still capable of significant power.

After full physical recovery is reached, more thorough examinations of anatomy will be administered as well as analysis of speed, endurance, and power production. In the interim, behavioral training will begin in earnest. Subject has demonstrated capability to defer to proper authority with enough prompting.

Goal by end of week is to not need prompting. 

End log

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A/N: Sorry for the wait, I’ve been SUPER busy this week. Hope the longer chapter made up for it though! As stated above, things are going to get a lot worse before they get better, so just make sure you’re aware of that going in.

Also, originally I was going to have a side-by-side of Tom and Maddie working to find Sonic, but then I realized I have no idea how to make that work. If anyone has suggestions feel free to let me know, otherwise it’s going to be solely Sonic and Robotnik focus until (if) he’s rescued.

Thanks for reading, and have a good one!

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sonic movie #sonic movie spoilers #dr robotnik #agent stone

[bbrandy2002]

Wacky Drabble #18: The Turkey Drop

This is part of @emceesynonymroll weekly wacky drabbles.

Prompt: What if I dont see it

Im a day late on this one, wasn't sure if I even wanted to post it, but, here we are.

A/N: I can't take credit for the idea of this as it comes from an old show and I'm just recreating one of the Thanksgiving episodes from it, sort of.

Summary: The gang gathers together in Ramsford to celebrate Thanksgiving with the Beaumonts. Let's just say, all hell is gonna break loose.

Warning: Turkeys may be harmed but I'm choosing to defy reality and believe they are all okay. If you don't feel you can, this is the heads up not to read 🦃

I put a "read more" in every story, sometimes they work and sometimes they don't. Crossing my fingers.

**********

Riley has always respected the customs and traditions that have been carried down throughout Cordonian history. Being the American- born, Queen of Cordonia, she opted to celebrate this holiday during her first year of marriage, in private- just she, Liam, and their close friends. She didn't want the Cordonian people to ever feel that she was trying to "Americanize" their great country. Liam, however, loved the idea of having one day out of the year for reflection and giving thanks, as this was something even Cordonian's would appreciate.

It was during their second year of marital bliss, the King presented this idea to the Royal Council, where it was passed almost unanimously. Madeleine was the only dissenting vote, having nothing to be thankful for.

It was decided the third Thursday of every November would be designated, Thanksgiving, in Cordonia.

What you are about to read is the real and true account of how the Duchy of Ramsford chose to kick off thier first official Thanksgiving.

**********

The weather was chillier than normal that day for the typically warmer climate of the Mediterranean country. Ramsford citizens bundled in light coats, braving the elements, in anticipation of the first Thanksgiving festival hosted by their Duke and Duchess. As festival goers wafted through the rows of vendors who were preparing enticing delicacies synonymous of their homeland, purchasing turkey related memorabilia, and partaking in games often seen at these event, they eagerly awaited the appearance of their very popular royals.

Maxwell had insisted he be the one in charge of putting this shindig together, planning every single detail, even down to the location of each port a potty. Bertrand was all too happy to oblige, having no free time with a toddler and a brand new baby. The only request made- absolutely, under no circumstances, were those 'blasted, overly feathered, menaces' of his, to be in attendance. Well, of course not, Maxwell had another kind of bird in mind, ones that were more in the spirit of Thanksgiving, and he would make sure each family in Ramsford had one of their own.

Drake walked morosely behind Liam and Riley, who were busy greeting their adoring citizens with Bertrand and Savannah. He wasn't in a festive mood since being dumped a few days ago. It wasn't that he was in a serious relationship yet with the sexually oppressed American from Illinois, but, who she left him for....Neville.

"Ohhh Walker!"

Drake cringed at the unbearable voice calling out to him and he had no use for entertaining her today. He clutched the whiskey flask, a former fiancee had given him, preparing to drown out the incessant mockery that was sure to follow.

"So...", Olivia eyed him with a devilish grin and her signature raised brow "...enjoying the single life again?", she taunted.

He huffed, "at least I had an "again", what's your excuse?"

She cackled, "Touche". Her eyes roamed the surroundings as they continued to stroll along, her mood shifting with curiousity "where the hell is Maxwell, he's usually at every one of these goddamn things making a fool of himself".

Bertrand turned to the Duchess, having finished with the receiving line of guests, clearing his throat, "My brother is off preparing a surprise that will be the delight of all of Ramsford today".

Savannah looked at Bertrand adoringly, "That's right Bertie, we are giving away a free turkey to enjoy with their families this holiday season".

"That's very generous and kind of you both, I'm sure your people will be very grateful, especially those less fortunate", Liam nodded, clasping Bertrand approvingly on the shoulder.

Drake shook his head, "I still can't believe Maxwell put this whole thing on himself, I don't trust it", sipping the last remnants of his drink.

"Drake, don't be a hater. Besides, Maxwell has proved himself to be more than responsible and mature of late", Savannah defended.

"What if I don't see it?"

The group continued to enjoy the festivities and fanfare as the sun finally broke through the thickened clouds, shining a ray of warmth below. A group text message from Maxwell came through as each of them checked their phones simultaneously, telling them to look up.

Bertrand, Savannah, Liam, Riley, Drake and Olivia, each shielded their eyes from the bright sun as they looked toward the sky eagerly. The faint sound of a helicopter getting louder as it approached closer to their location. A crowd began to gather around them as Bertrand smiled on proudly.

Riley pointed up excitedly, "Look! It has a banner on the back of the helicopter".

"Happy...Thanksgiving...from the Beaumonts", Liam read aloud as the banner became clearer. Savannah and Bertrand acknowledged the ohh's and aww's of the crowd, who were enchanted by the extravagant display taking place 2000 feet above them.

"What the hell just came out it?", Drake squinted to get a better look, as a small object appeared to have fallen from the large chopper.

"I don't know, maybe its a skydiver...", Riley answered as she looked on in anticipation.

Olivia furrowed her brows, "I don't see a parachute yet... wait!...there's another one and a third".

"Those can't be skydivers...I just can't quite make out what they are though", a bewildered Liam replied before his eyes widened with realization,"OH MY GOD...THEY'RE TURKEYS!!"

The crowd began to scatter in panic as live turkeys came crashing down around them, most of them landing on the soft tarps vendors had set up. Brown and white feathers intermingling through the air as stunned turkeys flapped wildly in anger. Patrons pushing and shoving one another in desperate search for safety, running for their lives.

A stunned Bertrand, scrambled to calm the masses to no avail. Savannah cried out loudly, "Oh my god, the humanity!", after ducking under a table, pulling Bertrand down with her.

Bastien made every attempt to shield Liam and Riley, who clung protectively to one another, while dodging and weaving through crowds of fearful people, stray feathers and irate falling turkey's. They stopped only briefly as they passed a padre, recieved their last rites and hauled ass to a picnic shelter. As the helicopter circled the grounds to launch a second wave of birds, Liam hurridly scrambled to reach Maxwell to cease the unintended assault.

Drake took off running with Olivia hot on his heels. He banged relentlessly on the door of the nearest porta-a-potty where an older gentleman allowed a frantic Drake and Olivia to hide. Due to being unable to hold three grown people, Drake stood in the doorway, having just enough room to shield his head. Olivia peeked over his broad shoulders as the last of the fowl fell on a tent across from them. They stood in astonishment momentarily, unsure if it was safe to exit while screams and the jumbling shrill of turkeys reverberate off their metal enclosure.

The older gentleman with them, finally spoke out when something strange caught his eye, "what are they doing?", gesturing at the 15 or so gathered birds in front of them.

Drake scratched his head in thought, "I think the little bastards are...organizing"

"I've seen this before", Olivia replied surely, "they're strategizing... its basic battle tactics...they're planning a counter attack".

Drake motioned to the formation of incoming turkeys, questioningly, "You've seen this before?"

Olivia patted her clothing down and began pulling knifes from various hidden holsters underneath, a determined look sketched across her face. "People...birds...whats the difference, they're both full of shit. I'm a Nevrakis, damn it...I will not be turkied to death by these...disgusting chicken wanna be's...you with me or not, Walker?". She holds up a knife that barely misses his face as he stumbles backwards off the edge to avoid it.

Drake swipes the blade from her steady hand, his dark brown eyes filled with savagery, "Let's end these fuckers!".

2 hours later...Ramsford Memorial Hospital

"Drake, can you hear me?", a concerned Liam stood at the bedside of his lifelong friend, when Drake's eyes began to flutter open.

"Liam...wh...where am I?"

"You're in the hospital buddy, you've got a nasty concussion and a broken nose, but, the doctors had a head CT ordered and it didn't show any serious trauma or permanent damage...you will, however, have to stay here overnight for observation".

Drake glanced around the room, grimacing at the shooting pain from his throbbing, bandaged nose and the seering pressure behind his eyes. The overhead lights making his already blurry vision so much worse. He attempted to speak, but, his voice was hoarse and dry. Liam reached for a cup of water that sat on his bed tray and assisted him in drinking.

Drake licked his lips, "what happened? The last thing I remember was grabbing the knife from her", he nodded at Olivia, who was standing in amusement at the end of his bed, "why the hell am I'm so jacked up?".

Liam looked to Olivia, he, himself not entirely sure of the exact circumstamces for Drake's injuries, hoping she could shed light on the situation.

Olivia moved around the bed to stand next to Liam, an uncontained smiled slipping across her pale face, "It was a giant Turkey...smashed right into your face", she clapped her hands together loudly, "Smack!". A light chuckle escaped her as both men glared back with astonished expressions.

Several seconds of silence commenced as that information began to process.

"What?", Drake snapped.

Olivia explained that Maxwell must have had one turkey left because another one came barrelling out of no where, dropping like a stealth bomber, and crashing right into his face. Never one to mince words, she took the opportunity to let him know that his face looks better now that most of it is covered in bandages.

Liam took in a deep breath, "I'm going to take my leave now that I can see you are well. I told Bertrand I would attend the press conference with him...apparently, Maxwell thought turkey's could fly".

Drake rolled his eyes, mumbling to himself, "Responsible and mature, huh?", he looked back to Liam with a grateful smirk, "thanks Liam for being here".

Liam clapped Drake's arm, "No problem", he turned to Olivia as he made his way for the door, "you coming?".

"Yeah", Olivia grabbed her coat and clutch that were laying across one of the hospital chairs and followed Liam to the door. She hesitated before fully exiting, turning sharply on her stiletto heels. "You did...well out there today soldier".

"I got clobbered in the face by a fucking bird, Liv!", he shouted back, grabbing his nose in pain as his head jostled from his over-exaggerated retort.

"Even so...", she trailed, as a long pause followed, the silence nearly becoming awkward. A small hint of compassion crept through her strong features and Drake instantly recognized the change in her demeanor.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Walker".

"Happy Thanksgiving...Liv".

#the royal romance #wacky drabbles #liam x riley #drake walker #maxwell beaumont #thanksgiving #long post #wkrp in cincinnati #bbrandy2002

[roswellroamer]

Day 13. February 11, 2020. Te Anau to Wanaka. 246km.

It is so nice to not have to load up the bike each day. It was almost like getting spoiled the last few days taking day trips without unpacking, repacking, loafing, etc. Well let's face it, this isn't a gig that is too tough anyway so no complaints! Tried to make a dent in the food Mark had provided at the homestead. Granola, juice, banana and milk provided a light brekkie since I may still have been full from the Redcliff meal last night. Packing commenced and I think my catch all 70 liter bag is nearing its limit. Barely able to clip the cross straps across the roll-down top. Didn't pick up any stuff other than the Burt Munro souvenirs so it is a little puzzling. Plus it feels heavier. No wheelies (from tail bag heft) and for the third day we cruised out of town without diverting to view the famous blue takahe! There is an enclosure in Te Anau where 5 of them live and you have a decent chance of seeing one in the AM. Shoot. By the time I remembered I was already over a 100 clicks down the road and wasn't going to turn around. Cool story about how they thought this species was extinct and now they're staging a slow comeback, still their population is estimated at less than 400.

https://www.doc.govt.nz/nature/native-animals/birds/birds-a-z/takahe/

Our next real stop was Queenstown. We did get some gas in Mossburn. ⛽️ Prices have ranged from $1.98NZ/l to $2.34NZ/l. Mostly around $2.16NZ/l which is about $5.25 per gallon about 2.3 times more than home. We were looking for a couple of unpaved roads today. We blew past Nevis Road. But we did see it etched into the side of mountains and switch backing it's way however we had missed the turnoff and frankly at least from a distance it seemed fairly tight and technical. We had our first taste of Queenstown grandeur when we rounded a corner and saw the first glimpse of lake Wakatipu. Pictures won't do it justice, but that didn't stop most of the cars and campers from pulling over to try. I also tried and failed, but had fun trying! Got some good shots at the Devil's Staircase lookout. Then we ran into a 20+ minute traffic stop. We had nice scenery but it was starting to get warm as the day heated up. Finally the construction crew let the other side go, then our side. We followed the signs to center of Queenstown and on the way saw a number of sky divers, one of whom we both thought had a chute problem as he came down awfully fast... A chair lift porting trampers and bikers to the top of one of the mountains overlooking town. Another group of parasailers who were circling above town enjoying themselves. We paid all our NZ change into a pay station to park bear the waterfront. Loads of barely clad sunbathers were off to the left. Tons of pedestrians about. Buskers and food carts were plentiful too even by the fancy shops like Louis Vuitton along the water. One dog was singing (painfully) along with his minstrel master. The fancier, healthier restaurant didn't have an outdoor seat so we grabbed a high top at the Irish bar in the middle of the action. So many boats buzzing around. Jetboats, ferries, fishing boats and some sort of shark shaped mini jet boat that can porpoise and dive under the water, only to shoot out above the surface. Cool. One signboard I snapped showed about 15 adventure activities on water, land or air. Definitely a hub for outdoorsy types and the town boasts 220 adventure activities each year including winter sports. With our money running out (parking) we looped once more by the crowded waterfront and then rode up to the Shotover River. Soaked up the river's light turquoise color and the outfitter's bright red and small, due to the small size of the river, jet boats. We then rode into the hills a bit and to a quaint town that looks like a movie set called Arrowtown. We had heard about an unpaved road to Macetown and took some time to inquire at the information station to find it. They said that the river was high and not recommended for vehicles without 4WD. We only made the first river crossing. I watched as Ted's tire dipped and was nearly covered as he dropped in a hole. Heavy throttle kept him going and I didn't enter. He kept the bike upright on the way back also but with some water on his seat and for a while, a shorted brake light always in the on position for an hour or so.

So much for the off-roading today. After Arrowtown and a short ride to Arrow Junction the climb begins with 7 hairpin turns. The lookout didn't give a great view of the Stelvio-esque roadway. Up and over leaving the intimidating notch of Nevis Rd in the rear view. Descent into the Cardrona Valley was windy (twisty, not blowing wind) and we had to pull over at the historic Cardrona Hotel. Dating to 1863, one of NZ's oldest hotels was an immediate draw and an unexpected stop. The 25 or so bikes out front were the hook that urged us to pull over. Usually bikers know some great spots. The legendary beer garden as I now know due to the biker knowledge was an oasis that wasn't visible from the road. Some say this is the most photographed building in New Zealand! A few more gentle turns and kilometers brought us to Wanaka. One of the families we spoke with this evening said it is growing so fast that it may be the next Queenstown. It has already supplanted another town as the second largest town in Otago, after Dunedin. The temp had climbed to 80° and in the sun I needed to shed my Klim gear. Found the hotel and enjoyed an hour or so poolside getting a jump on the blog and even a little watersliding. Wanaka sits at the southern edge of Lake Wanaka and aside from a busy lakefront with beach goers and bars, is known for a tree (OK, actually a weed) that grows about 20 yards from shore. This "tree" has its own FaceBook page and in 2017 had over 42k followers. Picture is above taken after sunset this evening. After enjoying some refreshments and randomly sitting with a French couple living in Tahiti as well as a German mom transplant with her twins while across from the lake, we found an Indian restaurant and enjoyed an excellent tikka masala and samosa and naan. Stuffed, we tried to scout out a winery by the hotel but they were already closed, as my eyes should now be. Until tomorrow's adventure!

#teanau #wanaka #newzealand #motoadventure #advrider #thatwanakatree

[terpia]

Dragon Breeders

Summary: Phil is a dragon breeder, awaiting the arrival of a new dragon. However, when it finally gets there, it is the delivery man that catches his eye.

Rating: G

Words: 1779

Ao3: (link)

Notes: Written for @phandomficfests. A big thank you to @insectbah for being a wonderful beta!

Phil stood by the road, propped on a fence surrounding his father’s ranch. Well, technically his ranch now, since his father had retired a few weeks ago. Phil still had trouble getting used to the idea. He was waiting for another dragon breeder, a man called Robert Howell. Although Phil has never met him before, his father has had some business dealings with the man in the past. Just before he retired, his father gave Mr. Howell a young Gummy dragon, with an understanding that he’d get a Dark dragon, after it hatches, in return. About three months have passed since then and it seemed that the baby dragon was finally ready to begin her new life at the Lester ranch. Mr. Howell was supposed to deliver the dragon at noon.

Phil took out his pocket watch. It was twenty past, and Howell was still nowhere in sight. Phil sighed. He wondered briefly whether to just return to work, but knowing his luck, the moment he’d start working the breeder would arrive. He sagged against the fence. It’s not like he couldn’t be spending this time better. He had another baby dragon to take care of.

Phil felt worry gnawing at him. It was the same worry that has been gnawing at him for the last two weeks, since the hatching of the Nature dragon.

The Nature dragon was the first dragon that had hatched under Phil’s care. Although he had assisted his father and his employees with training and caring for newly hatched dragons before, Phil had never yet been responsible for taking care of a baby dragon all by himself. In theory, he could of course ask any of the hired caretakers to help him with this task at any time. In practice, however, he wasn’t quite sure how he could do that and still be able to look his father in the eye. It was a family rite of passage, something that each Lester who inherited the ranch did with their first hatched dragon. It was the first real test of his skills as a dragon breeder, not to mention a chance for a truly wonderful bond to develop. Phil’s father was inseparable from his first dragon, a Butterfly breed. Grandma’s Lightning dragon was with her when she died. Whole generations of Lesters have had incredible life-long friendships with their dragons. When it became clear that Phil’s first dragon would be a Nature dragon, he was so excited. They were his favourite breed, with their brightly coloured scales and friendly nature. Not to mention the adorable giant leaf that all Nature dragons had on the top of their head, that grew with them as they developed. Phil couldn’t wait to meet his presumed new best friend.

The reality turned out to differ somewhat from his expectations. Not Phil’s love for the dragon, oh no. He loved her just as much as he thought he would. The moment he laid his eyes on her green body, he knew that he’d willingly lay down his life for her. What turned out to be different was the baby dragon herself. All the Nature dragons that Phil had met so far had been very friendly, curious and energetic. This dragon, however, was extremely wary of people and other dragons alike, hiding whenever someone stepped into her enclosure and squealing pitifully when they got too close. Although she was becoming somewhat used to Phil, she still didn’t exactly like or trust him, running away if he moved too fast or said something too loudly. The thought of petting her seemed like an unachievable fantasy.

Another unexpected problem turned out to be her leaf. Phil’s dragon’s leaf was even bigger than usual and evidently too heavy for her to control. It kept tangling around her legs as she walked and tripping her over, which predictably resulted in even more squealing. Phil’s heart broke when he saw her so distressed; however, any solution to this problem would require him to touch her for some period of time, and for all her timidity, she was still a dragon with a set of nice, sharp teeth to prove it.

The sound of a nearing automobile abruptly ended his musings. The black and red vehicle was moving at an alarming speed; however, it began to slow down as it drew closer, only to come to a stop right in front of him. There was a large box with holes in it strapped to the back of the it.

The driver of the automobile got out and took off his goggles. He was about the same height as Phil, maybe an inch or two taller. His light brown curls were fashionably styled, albeit rather ruffled, no doubt due to the mad ride that brought him to the ranch. His black suit was well-fitted, highlighting his slim frame and broad shoulders. The man’s warm brown eyes were apologetic. He said, “I am so sorry for being late Mr. Lester. I severely underestimated how much time it would take me to prepare the dragon for the journey.”

“Mr. Robert Howell?” Phil said stupidly. Good Lord, he had not expected him to be this handsome. Or this somberly dressed for that matter. Next to him, Phil’s blue vest and tan suit seemed almost inappropriately bright.

“His son, actually.” The man extended his hand. “Daniel Howell, but please, feel free to call me Dan.”

“In that case, you should call me Phil.” Phil shook Dan’s hand. “And don’t worry about being late, happens to the best of us.” He turned his attention to the box. “I assume that this is the dragon in question?”

Dan nodded. “Indeed. Slippery witch.” At the startled look from Phil, he smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I’m just a bit cross with her at the moment. The little beast decided to be difficult this morning and led me and two other caretakers on a wild chase around her enclosure. Three adults running around in circles after a small dragon. It took us over half an hour to catch her.”

Phil laughed. “I imagine it was quite a sight. Though I must ask, isn’t being fast and evasive one of the main characteristics of Dark dragons? I would have thought that you’d have some special equipment to catch them.”

“We do. However, they’re usually not quite this fast or this evasive so soon after hatching. All the equipment we have is meant for larger dragons. She easily slipped through it.” As he spoke, Dan was unstrapping the box. When he finished, he wrapped his long arms around it and lifted it. Something like grief briefly crossed his features. “Well, dear girl, this is it. You’re home now. Shall I bring her inside?” He directed the last question at Phil.

Phil nodded. “If you wish.”

As they walked, Phil glanced curiously at Dan. Although he looked perfectly composed now, Phil was fairly sure he hadn’t imagined the expression of sadness before, as fleeting as it was. Cautiously, he decided to breach the topic. “You seemed a bit sad earlier. Are you much attached to her?”

Dan blinked. “The dragon? Well, she’s barely over a week old and a horrible rascal at that. I should be happy to have her out of my hands before she gets big and starts causing trouble everywhere she goes.” His laugh sounded thoroughly unconvincing.

“You know,” Phil said seriously, “if you want to come and visit her, feel free to do so anytime, as often as you’d like. Regardless of whether that’s just once all together or once a week.”

A startled pause. “Really?”

“Aye. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see someone from her old home around. Not to mention that I’ll probably need some extra help with her sooner or later, what with all the troublemaking you mentioned and such.” Phil grinned at him.

The smile he received from Dan in return was breathtaking.

Suddenly, distressed squealing erupted from somewhere close to them. Phil didn’t even have to think; he immediately knew which of the dragons it was coming from. He quickly ran to her enclosure.

The Nature dragon was lying on the ground, her leaf between her legs. She must have accidentally scratched it with her claw, as there was an ugly red line running across it. She was unsuccessfully trying to get up, squealing all the while. At Phil’s sudden appearance, she let out a startled yelp and started moving even more frantically.

“It’s okay, darling. Everything’s okay.” Phil spoke as soothingly as he could, reaching slowly into his pocket to take out a dragon snack that he made sure to  always carry with him, just in case of situations like this.

Dan appeared behind him, slowed down by the large box he was still carrying. “What happened? Is everything fine?”

Before Phil could answer, the box in Dan’s hands started to violently shake. Dan let out an oath and tried to hold it down, but the dragon inside somehow managed to make a hole in it. She burst out from the box, jumping gracefully on the ground inside the enclosure. The dragon was pitch black, with vibrant green eyes and small, pale blue diamond-shaped patches decorating her chest.

The sudden appearance of another dragon startled the Nature dragon into silence. For a few seconds, they just stared at each other. Then the Dark dragon started moving towards her.

Phil didn’t breathe. All of the Nature dragon’s interactions with other members of her species so far had been characterised by the same fear and distrust she had shown towards humans. He awaited the inevitable explosion of panic.

An explosion that didn’t come. The Dark dragon was emitting strange melodic sounds, the likes of which Phil had never heard before. It almost sounded as if she was singing. Whatever the sounds were, they had an almost magical effect on the Nature dragon, her body visibly relaxing. She calmly let the other dragon nudge the leaf from around her legs and then to lick the red scratch running across it.

Phil couldn’t believe his eyes. “This is amazing,” he said, turning to Dan. “She has never let anyone even touch her before, much less do something like this!”

“Incredible.” For a moment, Dan looked as shocked as Phil. Then suddenly, he turned to Phil with a smile that made his heart beat faster. “People always say that opposites attract. And you know, I myself happened to be thinking that just a few minutes ago.”

“Funny,” Phil said weakly, “I was just thinking that too.”

It seemed that the baby dragon provided an opportunity for more than just one new bond to be made.

#phanfic #phanfiction #phan #dan and phil #my fic #that's a tag that i haven't used in a while

[sushigirlali]

Searching for the Light (Reylo Fanfic)

Art by: @fahrennheit​

Summary: Rey has a Force-vision of Ben's death, but is there anything she can do to save him? Pairing: Rey x Kylo Ren/Ben Solo [Reylo] [ReyBen] Continuity: Post TLJ Rating: T Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or anything that relates to Star Wars. 

A/N: I don't usually do angst, but I got this idea while listening to Body In A Box by City and Colour on the way home from work after a discussion about love songs vs angsty songs with my wifey, @grlie-girl​ ❤️💙 Enjoy!

Master list –> AO3 | ff.net | Tumblr 

——————

Searching for the Light By: sushigirlali

——————

We celebrate the lives of the dead It's like a man's best party only happens when he dies We gather 'round to pay our respects While their souls are still searching for the light Searching for the light

——————

Rey felt like she was floating, drifting in a dream not her own.

No, not a dream, she realized, sensing the energy field flowing around her. She was communing with the Force, with him. But where is he? Where am I?

A strange haze encircled her, gray and opaque, making it difficult to see more than a few feet in any direction. “Ben?” Rey asked uneasily. “Are you here? I can’t see you.”

A bright white light burst into life at her words, revealing a hidden pathway to her right. Holding up a hand to lessen the glare, Rey attempted to locate the source of the light, but found it was impossible to do so without getting closer.

Rey…

Jumping as a disembodied voice called out from the abyss, Rey held very still, listening intently. When nothing but silence met her ear, she cautiously followed the narrow trail deeper into the fog, compelled to investigate the strange occurrence.

Whatever was happening, it was different from every other time she’d connected with Ben through the Force. Their bond was a living thing, growing deeper with every moment they spent in each other’s company, regardless of how far apart their corporeal bodies were. So, the fact that Ben was not responding to her now was highly concerning.

Anxiously picking up her pace, Rey was nearly running by the time the shadowy outline of a large rectangular something emerged from the void. The ethereal glow around the object sharpened the closer she got, revealing an intricately designed silver casket.

Stopping in her tracks a few feet away, fear slowly filled her heart and choked her lungs. The cloudy image of a man with inky hair and dark clothing was partially visible through the glass enclosure, though she could not yet see his face.

No…no, it can’t be...

Inching closer, she bravely brushed her hand over the misty surface, clearing away the visual barrier that separated her from the man under the dome.

“No!” she gasped, clutching her heart as she recognized Ben Solo’s pallid features.

Stumbling backwards into the fog, Rey tipped over some invisible precipice, falling for what seemed like an eternity before landing with a thud on the hard ground.

——————

“Ben!” Rey screamed, jerking awake as she tumbled off her bed and onto the floor.

Tears streaking down her cheeks in an uncontrollable flood of grief, Rey struggled to stop crying long enough to breath.

“It’s not real,” she whispered, shakily pulling herself into a sitting position. “It’s not real, he’s alive.”

The haunting image of Ben’s still form was burned into her brain, forcing her to finally accept the depth of her feelings for the beautifully damaged man. Despite everything, he had captured her heart.

But was it too late now? She had to know.

Folding her legs under her, Rey ruthlessly pushed down her distress, seeking her equal in the Force with a strength she’d only scratched the surface of before.

“Ben?” she entreated softly. “Ben, are you there?”

Rey felt a familiar surge of warmth, giving her a modicum of hope. Rubbing her eyes like a child, she tried again, more forcefully this time.

“Ben, please come to me! I need you!”

Another rush of heat washed over her, like a phantom embrace, but still, he didn’t materialize. What else could she do? Untrained as she was, Rey was at a loss for what to try next.

“Leia,” she suddenly remembered, thumping herself on the forehead. “Of course! I need to talk to Leia, she’ll know what to do.”

Bracing herself against the side of the bed, Rey tugged on her boots and staggered out the door, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“It can’t be real, it can’t be real,” she repeated like a mantra, racing down the stark white hallway leading to the command center, “it was just a dream, it can’t be real.”

Skidding around an errant astromech droid, Rey was panting by the time she neared the heavy blast door concealing her final destination. Not stopping to scan her palm print, she pried the door open with a flick of her wrist.

“General!” she exclaimed, bursting into the crowded room like a shot. “I think there might be something wrong with Ben, have you—General?” Rey faltered at the sight of her mentor’s crumpled form; the older woman was openly weeping in the circle of Kaydel’s arms. “What’s happened?” Rey said in alarm.

“Hux’s latest speech just broadcasted galaxy-wide,” Poe said unevenly, nodding toward the communications console. “I’m sorry, Rey, but Kylo Ren is...well…”

Crossing the room as the Commander awkwardly trailed off, Rey quickly brought up Hux’s holographic message.

“It is with great sorrow that I must report the passing of our venerated Supreme Leader,” he started with a condescending smirk. “I’ve been told that it was an unfortunate accident, but nevertheless, Kylo Ren is dead. As a result, I, Armitage Hux, have decided to assume command of the First Order, ensuring that…”

But she’d already stopped listening, the phrase, ‘Kylo Ren is dead,’ clanging loudly in her ears. Rey fell to her knees, feeling Ben’s loss with such anguish that she knew she’d never be whole again. “How could this be?”

“Rey!” Finn cried, racing to her side. “Are you alright?”

She shook her head, trying to make sense of it all. Come on, Rey! He can’t be dead! If he was, you’d know it. The Force was trying to show you something, now think! Although she hadn’t been able to contact Ben directly, she had felt something during the attempt, almost like he was in the room with her…

“Where’s his body?” Rey demanded, shooting back to her feet. “He’s here, isn’t he? I want to see his body.”

“Our long-range transport just got back,” Finn confirmed. “Hux wanted to ‘give the General her son back’ as some sort of sick negotiation tactic,” he added in disgust. “As if that would make up for assassinating her only son.”

“Where is he?” Rey said impatiently, not in the least bit interested in military maneuvers at the moment.

“Med bay five,” Poe informed her, looking up from his datapad. “They just unloaded his…coffin.”

Rey’s whole body clenched at his choice of words, but she managed to nod and walk out the door without collapsing again. “Then that’s where I’ll be.”

——————

Staring down at the same silver box that had called out to her in her dreams, Rey took a deep breath before unlatching the bolts sealing the glass top to the metal frame. It was an old-fashioned sort of contraption, not at all like the crude shipping container she’d used to board the Supremacy.

He is a prince, after all, she mused, taking in his regal uniform and aristocratic features, and I’m, well… It was incredible that they had met at all, given their stations in life. In fact, life on Jakku and Chandrila was so different that—

“Stop procrastinating, Rey,” she said forcefully, breaking up her own internal monologue. She was here to save Ben. Her focus had to be on him. She didn’t know how she knew this, but she did.

Stepping up to the edge of the cushion lined box, Rey carefully grasped his hand. Ben? Can you hear me? she probed, scanning their usual mental link.

A gentle glow enveloped him at her touch, but the phenomenon only lasted for a moment before dissipating. Encouraged by the minute reaction, Rey leaned over the side of the box and pressed her cheek against the firm contours of his muscular chest. She couldn’t hear a heartbeat, nor did he appear to be breathing, but his body was warm and pliable.

Pulling back, Rey brushed his tousled hair behind his ears before lowering her lips to within an inch of his own. Ben? she said tentatively. Don’t be alarmed, but I’m going to try something. And then she kissed him.

Rey?

Her head shot up as his rich baritone rolled over her, solid and clear. “Ben!” But his dark eyes were still closed, his massive form still unmoving. “Blast,” she sighed as his body shone for a few more seconds before burning out; it was almost like when Master Luke communicated to her from beyond the grave. “Well, I’m on the right track at least.” Rey nervously chewed the inside of her cheek. “I think.”

Blushing as she framed his pale face between her shaky hands, Rey slid her lips across his scared cheek to capture his mouth once again. But this time, she didn’t falter when Ben uttered her name.

Rey?

Ben?! Oh, thank the stars! she cried in relief. What happened?

Hux. Coup, he said shortly.

But you survived?

Yes.

How?

Meditation. The Force.

So, how do I pull you out of it?

I…can’t remember, he replied quietly.

Rey tangled her thin fingers in his soft raven locks, needing something to hold onto. Ben, please try! Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you, she promised desperately.

Can’t think. Cold. Alone.

You’re not alone, she insisted, kissing him harder. I’m here, Ben. I’ll always be here because I—because I love you! So, I need you to fight and—

Rey.

Yes? she encouraged.

Thank you, he said weakly.

Ben? Rey whispered, terrified by his tone. Don’t you dare leave me, Ben Solo! Ben? Ben!

But he didn’t answer.

“No!” she burst out, roughly shaking his broad shoulders. “Dammit, Ben, you have to let me help you! Please!” Great wracking sobs jolted her slender body when he remained motionless. “No, no, no! This can’t be happening! Not you too!” Rey covered her face with her hands, unable to continue looking at his lifeless form. “Damn you, Ben Solo! I could have helped you!” she cried brokenly.

“But you did,” croaked the dead man beneath her. “You saved me.”

Rey froze, disbelieving, almost afraid to drop the barrier in front of her eyes. “Ben?”

“I’m sorry if I scared you, but I didn’t really have a choice,” he said ruefully, pulling her hands to his chest. “I’ve been looking for a way out of the First Order for months, but every alternative I could think of involved putting you at risk.”

“Then how…?” she started, searching his dark eyes.    

“Hux was planning to poison my drink last night at dinner, so I let him believe that he’d succeeded,” Ben informed her. “My guards switched out the tainted wine before it ever reached the table.”

“But how did you find out about the plot?” Rey inquired, brows furrowing at the thought of someone trying to murder the man she loved in such an underhanded way.

“I read his mind,” Ben smirked. “Despite his bravado, he’s very weak-minded.”

“He does seem rather pretentious on the evening propaganda reel,” Rey laughed. “What happened next?”

“I went back to my quarters and meditated for hours and hours, communing so deeply with the Force that I fell into death-like state,” he explained. “Giving Hux exactly what he wanted was the only way that I could make it out of there alive,” he added.

“But how did you know that he’d deliver your body to the Resistance? What was stopping him from blowing you out the airlock?” she asked uneasily.

“Because it’s exactly what his father would have done,” Ben said simply. “Shoving the death of a child into an adversary’s face is ruthless, but effective. I can’t imagine my mother is handling my supposed demise well?” he said a little uncertainly.

“Of course not! Leia’s devastated!” Rey assured him. “We should call for her—"

“In a minute, there’s something I have to say,” he murmured, reaching up to caress her tearstained cheek. “The last thing I remember before waking up here, in your arms, was this overwhelming sense of belonging,” he said tenderly. “I’ve been so lost without you, Rey, and that feeling carried over into my trance. Even though I was doing it for you, for us, I couldn’t find my way back, not until you told me that you loved—mmph!”

Rey slammed her mouth down on his, stealing his breath away with a soul-searing kiss. I love you, I love you, I love, she chanted in his mind. Never leave me again.

Ben smiled against her lips, sensing that no further explanation was needed.

I love you too, sweetheart, and I‘m not going anywhere.

——————

Standing just outside the doorway, Finn observed the enthusiastic couple with a kind smile. Kylo Ren wasn’t the first person he would’ve picked for his best friend to fall in love with, but Rey had obviously made her choice, and he couldn’t be happier for her.

“Poe, you better get Leia up here quick,” Finn said into his comlink. “She’s going to want to see—” Finn’s eyebrows darted up as Rey started groping for the edge of Ben’s tunic. “On second thought, maybe give it a few minutes. Or twenty.”

-FIN-

——————

A/N: Ben Solo is my favorite Disney princess, so obviously this fic had to have a happy ending!! I hope you weren’t expecting anything different from me? :P Check out my other fics if you’d like to read more, I have a lot lol

#reylo #reylo fanfic #rey #kylo ren #ben solo #rated t #angst #death #true love's kiss #inspiration #grlie-girl #city and colour #music #my fanfiction #searching for the light #sushigirlali #one-shot #ily wifey #happy holidays

[botnika1]

From The Book of Time

1.

I rose this morning early as usual, and went to my desk But it’s spring,

and the thrush is in the woods, somewhere in the twirled branches, and he is singing.

And so, now, I am standing by the open door. And now I am stepping down onto the grass.

I am touching a few leaves. I am noticing the way the yellow butterflies move together, in a twinkling cloud, over the field.

And I am thinking: maybe just looking and listening is the real work.

Maybe the world, without us, is the real poem.

2.

For how many years have you gone through the house shutting the windows, while the rain was still five miles away

and veering, o plum-colored clouds, to the north, away from you

and you did not even know enough to be sorry,

you were glad those silver sheets, with the occasional golden staple,

were sweeping on, elsewhere, violent and electric and uncontrollable–

and will you find yourself finally wanting to forget all enclosures, including

the enclosure of yourself, o lonely leaf, and will you dash finally, frantically,

to the windows and haul them open and lean out to the dark, silvered sky, to everything

that is beyond capture, shouting I’m here, I’m here! Now, now, now, now, now.

3.

I dreamed I was traveling

from one country to another

jogging on the back of a white horse whose hooves

were the music of dust and gravel whose halter was made of the leafy braids

of flowers, whose name was Earth. And it never

grew tired though the sun went down like a thousand roses

and the stars put their white faces in front of the black branches above us

and then there was nothing around us but water and the white horse

turned suddenly like a bolt of white cloth

opening under the cloth cutter’s deft hands

and became a swan. Its red tongue flickered out

as it perceived my great surprise my huge and unruly pleasure my almost unmanageable relief… .

4.

“‘Whoever shall be guided so far towards the mysteries of love, by contemplating beautiful things rightly in due order, is approaching the last grade. Suddenly he will behold a beauty marvelous in its nature, that very Beauty, Socrates, for the sake of which all the earlier hardships had been borne: in the first place, everlasting, and never being born nor perishing, neither increasing nor diminishing; secondly, not beautiful here and ugly there, not beautiful now and ugly then, not beautiful in one direction and ugly in another direction, not beautiful in one place and ugly in another place. Again, this beauty will not show itself like a face or hands or any bodily thing at all, nor as a discourse or a science, nor indeed as residing in anything, as in a living creature or in earth or heaven or anything else, but being by itself with itself always in simplicity; while all the beautiful things elsewhere partake of this beauty in such manner, that when they are born and perish it becomes neither less nor more and nothing at all happens to it… .’”

5.

What secrets fly out of the earth when I push the shovel-edge, when I heave the dirt open?

And if there are no secrets what is that smell that sweetness rising?

What is my name, o what is my name that I may offer it back to the beautiful world?

Have I walked long enough where the sea breaks raspingly all day and all night upon the pale sand?

Have I admired sufficiently the little hurricane of the hummingbird?

the heavy thumb of the blackberry?

the falling star?

6.

Count the roses, red and fluttering. Count the roses, wrinkled and salt. Each with its yellow lint at the center. Each with its honey pooled and ready. Do you have a question that can’t be answered? Do the stars frighten you by their heaviness   and their endless number? Does it bother you, that mercy is so difficult to   understand? For some souls it’s easy; they lie down on the sand   and are soon asleep. For others, the mind shivers in its glacial palace,   and won’t come. Yes, the mind takes a long time, is otherwise occupied than by happiness, and deep breathing. Now, in the distance, some bird is singing. And now I have gathered six or seven deep red,   half-opened cups of petals between my hands, and now I have put my face against them and now I am moving my face back and forth, slowly,   against them. The body is not much more than two feet and a tongue. Come to me, says the blue sky, and say the word. And finally even the mind comes running, like a wild thing,   and lies down in the sand. Eternity is not later, or in any unfindable place. Roses, roses, roses, roses.

7.

Even now I remember something

the way a flower in a jar of water

remembers its life in the perfect garden

the way a flower in a jar of water

remembers its life as a closed seed

the way a flower in a jar of water

steadies itself remembering itself

long ago the plunging roots

the gravel the rain the glossy stem

the wings of the leaves the swords of the leaves

rising and clashing for the rose of the sun

the salt of the stars the crown of the wind

the beds of the clouds the blue dream

the unbreakable circle.

from Mary Oliver, The Leaf and the Cloud.

#Mary Oliver

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

Roped In

Now this, this is a very long overdue present for a friend and man am I sorry for the wait you had to go through for this.

But! @stardragon17 I really hope that this was worth the wait and that you enjoy reading your gift! Have fun!

.“See something you wanna wrangle Lu?” Cana propped herself up on her knuckle, leaning further into the old yet sturdy wooden fence. 

While it wasn’t unusual to see the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lip, this one evolved to a full grown grin, wickedly mischievous like the cackle she let loose at Lucy whose only response was a light ‘mhmm’ with her eyes focused elsewhere inside the paddock.

Cana could laugh all she wanted but Lucy’s had a long day, which is bound to turn into a long and tiring week. Sure she didn’t normally ogle cute guys, maybe spare them a glance then continue on her way, but this was a different case.

When there is a guy running around with horses inside a paddock, kicking up as much dust as his equine companions without any sign of slowing down and a tired grin pulling at his lips, simply sparing a glance doesn’t cut it.

It was like that scene straight out of George of the Jungle minus the billowing shirt and sunset when he leapt on the back of a particularly rowdy stallion. It reared up on its hind legs trying to buck him off but only succeeded in whipping it’s mane in his face, to which he let out a laugh lost to her on the wind. But she knew it was hearty from the way his eyes squinted and how he threw his head back.

Cheesy romance movies were right. Men and horses make a great combination to distract from real life. Especially since she’s on her father’s ranch for the first time since he brought it into fruition.

Leave it to the man, a retired stock broker, to have not only one of the wealthiest ranches in the country but also somehow managed to breed the best racehorses since Seabiscuit. Not to mention the other horses Heartfilia ranch put out were either rodeo stars or making big screen appearances in most tween movies.

Yup, the old man was making the Heartfilia name even bigger than it used to be, attracting the media’s ever watchful eye. Which is where she unfortunately dropped in.

It took her years to land a decent journalism gig. Why? Well when you’re the daughter of a well known business mogul trying to make her own for the first time in her life, no-one’s gonna take her seriously.

Everyone figured she was some airhead heiress looking for attention so she was promptly turned down without even a shot at an interview. She was damn near about to give up and go get that job at Subway when she got a call from one of the places she’d sent her résumé.

While it wasn’t the job she always dreamed of, what with her boss being like Jonah Jameson only eviller and with dumber facial hair, she hadn’t had any major difficulties until now.

Her boss put two and two together and decided, ‘hey sending Heartfilia to talk to Heartfilia’s gotta mean big bucks.’ so he went ahead, arranged an interview and shipped her to her off to the ranch with only her wits and her camerawoman in tow.

And she’s been dreading it since she got off the plane. The car ride over was basically her trying to decide whether or not jumping out a moving vehicle’s truly worth it, all the while staring out the window and noting the fact that really tight blue jeans were the pants of choice for everyone out here.

Clearly they weren’t meant for everyone.

She got here on time but Lucy’s been bouncing around the place, interviewing farmhands and wranglers, and pestering Cana to take pictures of any and everything that might be of use for the paper. Her father no doubt was doggedly pursuing her, expecting her for the interview and to hassle her about whatever else he’s been holding onto since she last saw him some years ago.

But truth be told, she wasn’t quite ready to see him yet and bless Cana for understanding. Despite the heat she’d yet to complain about Lucy’s ‘round the world journey.

“Hey, earth to drooling journalist. Are you gonna interview this one too or just keep gawking?” Cana sharply snapped her fingers in front of Lucy’s face, managing to get a few blinks out of her and a breathy sigh that sounded almost dreamy.

And maybe a little bit thirsty. But who was Cana to judge?

“Lu. Earth to Lu. Hello?” She tried again, this time reaching for her weapon of choice- the camera- snapping pictures in rapid succession. The results were even better than she expected with Lucy jumping back in shock, a garbled cry leaving her and disbelief in her eyes. “I’m sorry but if I let that continue any longer you’d jump the fence to jump him.” Cana’s eye zeroed in on the tiny LED screen of the camera, eyebrows raised.

Yeah those pictures are definitely gonna make rounds in their friendship circle.

“You make it sound like a bad thing.” Lucy grumbled, rubbing at her eyes. “Jumping a hot guy is never a bad idea but you got a job to do, remember?” Cana chastised. She pushed herself off the fence with a weak grunt and wrapped an arm round Lucy’s shoulder. “Playing when you still have stuff to get done isn’t nearly as fun as it should be. Trust me.” 

Lucy sighed, her shoulders dropping as though a sudden weight came upon them, nearly throwing off Cana’s arm. “I know.” She groaned. “ I just, don’t wanna have to deal with him yet. I know he’s gonna do it,force me in a corner and twist my words to hear what he wants. And when he does that, he does the pity thing like everything’s my fault. And I just-” Her voice quavered. Fingers tightened round her upper arms, squeezing a bit too tight but Lucy almost didn’t realize until Cana pried her fingers away, replacing them with soothing strokes up and down her arms.

Lucy’s eyes stung as Cana pulled her closer, tucking her into her side with a tight squeeze. “It’s alright. You don’t have to say it. You can ogle as long as you want, and when this is all over we can go get waffles at that diner we passed. Whaddaya say?” 

Lucy tried for a watery smile. It wasn’t the best but Cana accepted it nonetheless. She didn’t know the full story, none of Lucy’s friends knew apart from a few slivers of details that obviously couldn’t paint the whole grim picture.

Lucy grimaced, curling in on herself despite Cana’s calming embrace.

“Want me to snap a few pics of sexiness over there for the road?” Cana suggested, wiggling her eyebrows. “You never know when you might need ‘em.” She nodded in the direction of sexiness, prompting Lucy to look up. Just in time to see him thrown to the ground. A strangled sound left his throat as his back slammed against the red dirt.

He rolled quickly to the side, narrowly missing his head getting pummeled in by the stallion’s powerful hooves before jumping to his feet when the horse tried again, letting out an angered whinny when its harsh stomps gained it no satisfying results.

Lucy winced, watching him dance around the aggravated beast, trying his hardest to calm it down to no avail. The carefree grin that was plastered on his face vanished into hard set lines, a seriousness overcoming his features. His stance went rigid, lowering into a slight crouch as a silent standoff ensued between him and the horse- inching ever so slightly and its tail flicking this way and that dangerously.

“Maybe we should get him some help before that though…” Cana muttered, worry creasing her brow as they both watched the horse stop to ponder, pawing the ground and snorting, bucking its head as it tried to decide whether or not maiming this guy was really worth it.

Lucy nodded stiffly in agreement, vaguely wondering how he could stay so calm in the enclosure with danger a mere few feet in front of him. Cana’s arm slid from around her. “ I’ll stay here in case things escalate, you go over to the next paddock and grab a few of those other wranglers we saw earlier. With the way that horse’s acting you’d better make it quick before It flips out again.”

“Got it.” Lucy warily eyed the man inside the paddock again before starting to turn away. Cana steeled her hand on the fence, ready to jump into action if needs be.

 And that’s when everything went to hell.

The horse reared up with a roar that no animal, let alone a horse, should ever produce. The guy leapt back as it came crashing down, staring it down with an unreadable expression. Then something crossed it, a split second glimpse of realization before a cry forced its way up from his throat when the horse bolted. “LOOK OUT!!” 

He tried to give chase but it lashed out with a hind leg, catching him squarely in the stomach and sent him flying. His pained scream when he slammed against the ground did nothing to halt the beast charging towards them at break neck speed, head lowered ready to rip through the fence to freedom.

The sickening crack of wood sounded like a gunshot. Splinters and huge chunks of the fence became airborne, debris that promised injury apart from the horse, giving a triumphant whinny at last, finally on the other side.

It galloped away to freedom. If it didn’t give a damn about its wrangler that it probably murdered, then it sure as hell didn’t notice how it threw Cana forward. 

Not a scream passed her lips, things going too fast for her to process and crashing into Lucy. Pain flared in her head before the full force of her friend’s weight pushed her to the dirt, both of them letting out twin groans.

One of them groaned again, and she wasn’t quite sure who with it sounding tinny and far away to her though she figured Cana, rolling off her moments later with another -more alert- groan, sounding vaguely irritated at the turn of events but that might’ve just been her brain muddling things up.

“Shit, Lu? Lucy? Are you awake?” She was slightly aware, being pulled up and made to rest against her friend’s side. “She hit her ‘ead?” A voice weakly piped up.

 Maybe it came from the limping figure slowly coming into view? Her eyes were kinda blurry now.

“Yeah, just looks like a bump. I hope.” 

“Got some supplies for that. Can ya walk an’ help me carry her?” The figure swoops into view, leaning over her slightly, their brow knitting with obvious concern. 

Was that an accent? It sounded odd.

“Yeah i’m good. Is it far?” 

“Just up ahead past the barn.” Her head felt funny, she tried to focus but the words kept flowing in and out like an old tv just static fuzzing over words the harder she tried to focus. She felt herself being hoisted by two pairs of strong hands. Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a bit….her head might clear…….

When next her eyes open she almost wishes they hadn’t. A dull ache blankets her head and forces her eyes back to weak slits.

Wait. What happened?

Horse, Cana, running around the ranch, sexy wrangler…

Lucy presses a hand to her forehead to recall more and immediately pulls it back. A hiss passes through her teeth as fresh pain blazes to life from where she touched it, dying down to a weak pulse letting her know not to forget it.

Tentatively Lucy tries again, light fingers gently prodding her tender forehead and wincing slightly at the large swell she feels there. She tries to sit up but fails, sinking into the ridiculous softness of what she can only suspect to be a couch. And a fairly old one at that given how she felt brittle sponge crumbling against her palm from a tear in its seam. A frustrated sound escapes her as she struggles to rise. 

“Sounds like ya finally come to.” Someone rumbled nearby. Clinking and weak shufflings came from behind the couch, out of her sight. Which frustrated her even more.

She made another sound, a low whine from her throat and grabbed the back of the couch, hoisting herself up in one go. Lucy’s half-concussed brain didn’t particularly agree with that. Her eyes blurred slightly, the dimly lit room disappearing for a moment.

With a hard blink it returned and Lucy peered behind for whoever just spoke to her. Her eyes widened slightly, taking another hard blink and then another just to make sure that her eyes weren’t tricking her with some sort of delusion. Not that she’d be complaining either way.

Holy.Shit.

Earlier when she ogled she might’ve had a shirtless daydream about him (not that Cana should ever know) but was Lucy actually expecting to see him with his shirt off, slung casually over his shoulder with a small smile directed at her?

No, and damn was Lucy wrong about those romance novel covers. Apparently guys really did come as chiseled and perfect as a statue carved by the gods themselves. His pink hair was delightfully tousled, falling into dark- almost black- green eyes. Every inch of rich brown skin toned and stretched over hard muscles. Though there were a few patches, warped and silvery, that dotted his body from face to just above the waistband of his dirtied jeans.

What stood out the most however, was the vague horseshoe shaped swell on his left side. The skin wasn’t broken but it still looked painfully inflamed. Despite the layer of salve coating it, she could still see the bruised purple skin just beneath, shining through.

At least she had the decency not to drool, her mouth instead falling into a soft ‘o’ and continuing to stare unabashedly. 

Lucy was pretty sure she was obvious about it but he didn’t notice, or if he did he didn’t seem to care, only quirking his brow at her silence with amusement in his green eyes.

“How’s ya head feelin’?”  He asked, making a vague gesture to her forehead. “There’s a ice pack ‘n a glass a water on the table next to ya, if ya need ‘em.”

She nodded slowly, eyes darting to the low coffee table in front of her. The glass had a ring of water around it, racing across the tabletop and the little ice cubes in it were almost gone. How long was she out for?

She gratefully took it, chugging back its contents just realizing how dry her throat is and welcoming the distraction from the man who’s this close to frying her brain. 

It’s cool helped clear her head. Satisfied, she returned it to its place with a soft clink and took in her surroundings. Though the curtains were drawn to a near close she she could still easily make out the junk hoarded in the very well lived living room, knick knacks of all sorts overflowed from shelves and piled high in the corners. She was pretty sure the pile of teddy bears to her left was hiding a chair but she could be wrong.

At least the bookshelves actually had books, messily stuffed back in their places and extra papers about god knows what sticking out from between them. Though they housed memorabilia too, a tiny red dragon statue bared its teeth at her in a grin from underneath yellowed paper.

“You have, a lot of stuff.” Lucy mused, eyeing him curiously as he stepped around the couch, pushing aside the empty glass (and…a blue lucky cat statue?) to settle on the coffee table, ignoring how it shook dangerously under his weight.

He held out the ice pack to her with a shrug. “I like stuff.” He said simply. “Stuff fills space.” Well he wasn’t wrong.

“Yer friend’s outside by the way. Seemed fine since she raided the fridge ‘n stole my last beer.” He chuckled, “Almost broke my hand for it.” 

That accent was weird, she wasn’t imagining it earlier. What was it, scottish? irish? Not something she’d really expect to hear this far south. But it wasn’t perfect either, there was some underlying hitch, a drag at some of his words that reminded her of Gajeel’s heavy jamaican accent.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Beer is her go to when things go wrong.” She grumbled, clutching the ice pack tightly to her head. "She’s not so violent once you get to know her.”

“Take ya’ word for it then.” A grin pulled at his lips before he reached back in a stretch,shirt flopping off behind him and cracking his shoulders with a satisfied grunt. He caught her gaze and his grin pulled wider, holding her stare with ease, his hands coming to rest atop his head.

Did, did he know? Did he know?

Of course he knew, she was obvious, Cana must’ve said something suggestive and there was no other reason for him to pull of a pose like he was a vogue model apart from that.

She takes her thirst back, he’s an ass for teasing. Stupid, sexy wrangler.

He doubles over suddenly, breaking their stare when his eyes squeezed shut in pain, hands flying to his side. 

“Are you alright?” Lucy exclaims, hands hovering out to help.

He quickly waves off her concern, other hand still gripping his injured side. He gingerly rose, shuffling off to the side and coming back seconds later, plopping on the table once again despite its angered shakes and nursing a small jar in his hand.

“Gotta redress this stupid thing.” He mumbled to himself, pulling off the lid with a soft ‘pop’. “You don’t mind if I…?”

“Oh not at all. It’s no problem.” Already her nose started to wrinkle from the pungent odour wafting from the little container. It grew stronger as he scooped out a handful and spread it over the bruise. The black ointment was thick like paste yet he seemed unperturbed by its gross smell, no doubt used to it given the multitude of scars that criss-crossed his upper body.

“Did a real number on me, damn horse.” He cursed when his hand roamed over a particularly tender spot, wiping off the rest of the ointment on his pants. The black streaks running up its side didn’t really look out of place.

“Ain’t the first somethin’ like this happened an’ probably won’t be the last. We didn’t need ‘nother horse, ‘specially that one but the boss never listens. An’ now the demon’s runnin’ wild. He’ll want me to fix that too.”

Hmm.. inability to listen and won’t take responsibility for his mistakes? Lucy suspected right, her father hadn’t changed one bit.

“Sounds like you and your boss have disagreements a lot.” She said, clearly amused.

“He’s an ass.” He growled out, tapping his finger irritably on the table. “ Half my scars are ‘cause of stuff he tried an’ didn’t work out.” He pointed to the jagged scar marring his cheek.

“Foal got stuck in a barb wire fence he installed.” He explained. “Jumped in before it got worse. An’ this one?” He pointed to another, an X shaped scar on his right hip. “He tried raising reindeer thinkin’ they were like horses. Almost mauled me to death.”

“And that one?” Lucy gestured to the broad slice that nearly wrapped around his neck, slightly faded with age. His look of annoyance faltered, something like guilt flashing past in his eyes.

His hand lowered slightly. “That one’s on me. Did somethin’ stupid as a kid.”

“Oh…” An uncomfortable silence stretched on between them. Suddenly he jumped up from his perch on the table and flopped back on the couch next to her, sinking deep into the cushions with a heavy sigh, arms stretched back behind the couch.

“Main point is he’s an ass an’ i’m sorry ya gotta interview him.”

“What?” “Yer a reporter right? That’s why yer here right?”

“Oh, right. That.” Between almost getting murdered by a horse and this encounter she had practically forgotten about why she was really here. Lucy deflated slightly, unaware of the concern on her new friend’s face as he watched her curiously.

“Oi.” He began softly, nudging her shoulder slightly. “I make him sound bad, but he isn’t all that. He can be kinda decent sometimes.” She could hear the doubt lacing his words but was grateful for how he tried even when they both knew better.

“Thanks but, he’s horrible and I gotta face him sooner or later-”

The door banged open bouncing off the wall at the force, shocking both of them but he took it a step further, jumping to his feet and his face was quickly changed, concern fading behind a serious mask. Seems like someone was always on edge.

Cana stepped into the room and past the wrangler to stand before Lucy, her expression grim and forehead bearing only a light red bruise. “Dad’s coming. You gotta bounce. Now.”

“What.” “What?!” When she said sooner she didn’t mean this soon.

As if on cue, the heavy crunch of gravel sounded outside. With two steps he was by the window, peering out the curtains. “That’s the boss’s truck aaaaann’, that’s the boss.” He finished when they heard a car door slam.

His head whipped around to fix them with a confused stare, eyebrows scrunched up together as though something just dawned on him. “Wait, did ya say dad?! I thought ya was just a reporter!”

“Well i’m both!” Lucy blurted out, tossing the ice pack gone warm long ago to the side and flying to her feet, eyes instantly scouring the room for escape routes. She caught sight of her reflection in the glass case behind her. The knot on her forehead was comically red, the skin beneath it a sickly grey.“ And neither wants to see him right now! Do you have somewhere I can hide?!”

The confusion was still strong on his face, still processing the situation. Cana snapped her fingers, bringing him back. “Well?” She asked, almost harsh. “Do you?!”

“Y-yeah, the stables not too far from ‘ere. He never sets foot in there.”

“Good. You two start running. I’ll keep the other one busy to buy some time.” And she ducked out the way she came, prepared to sacrifice herself for the greater good.

“Sure she can handle him?” He leapt over the couch in a single go, landing beside Lucy who’d already thrown open the back door. “She’s tough.” Lucy replied jokingly, gesturing to her swollen forehead. “I should know.”

He barked out a laugh, pushing her ahead of him. “Don’t let me start feelin’ sorry for the boss now.” “Would you really?” “No.”

Lucy heard Cana’s faint sound of feigned surprise behind them and her father’s clipped tone, obviously angry that Lucy gave him the slip again. The door clicked shut behind them and they started to sprint, neither going fast due to injuries  but fast enough.

“So i’m Natsu, should I at least know your name? Or are ya gonna stay just ‘both reporter and daughter of the boss’?” He beamed, eyes squinted slightly.

“It’s Lucy.” “Lucy huh? An’ how long are ya gonna run around the place?” 

“Why the interest?” Lucy panted, grateful to see the rise of a building nearing them. His grin seemed almost savage, as did his eyes, slowing his gait to almost a stop. Confused, Lucy slowed as well.

“Why? Giving the boss hell sounds like fun. That’s why.” And he barked out another laugh, hearty and strong that had him clutching his side.

Hot and wanted to screw with her dad? Oh yeah, lucy was right to take a liking to him.

I might’ve snuck in an old headcanon of mine where natsu’s irish-jamaican and if anyone thinks those two can’t work then you can fight me.

#natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu #nalu fanfiction #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #fairy tail au #nalu nerds #what a phoenix can do #this ended up being way longer than i intended it to be #but i'm not complaining #i kinda like stupid sexy wrangler natsu

[riverdaleroundup]

Riverdale Roundup: 2x05 “ When A Stranger Calls”

Alright here I am once again, watching this damn show almost a week late. I honest to god don’t really remember what happened last time.

Oh right the Black Hood gave Betty a call and was like “ Hey girl, it’s me. Ya boy”. And he’s all like your sisters Uterus is FULL of sin so like if you don’t behave i’m going to kill that bish.” Alice comes in and assumes Betty is on the phone with her boyfriend like a normal girl instead of a mystery psycho killer and is like okay “ I pretended to like your boyfriend for like 3 minutes but honestly you should dump him. “

The writers remember that Betty and Archie are supposed to be freinds and they walk to school together and Betty is like I have tea to spill. Archie is like “you gotta go to the police” and Betty is like” nah i’m good. I’m fifteen and a grown up so like I can handle a literal murderer.”

So the Lodge family is gathered in Daddy's study and plotting about getting some other richie rich family to give them money for their SoDale(?) project and i’m like I STILL don’t know what the fuck that is.

Jughead meets up with the cast off B league teenage string of the South Side Serpents and it’s confirmed to me that Dilton confirmed did stab himself like a little attention seeking whore. I was unsure about that. So the Serpents think that the next reasonable step after the rumble at midnight with the Riverdale high school Bulldogs is to blow up a LITERAL building. That makes good sense. The slithery little snakey snakes are all like “ we aren’t the bad guys and to prove it to you we’re going to blow up the local newspaper with a pipe bomb our bros cousin made in his garage.”

Veronica starts going off about her old life with this Nicky bish back in nam where they went on crazy adventures and stayed up all night and i’m like oh last year? When you were 14?

Jughead rolls up to the South side Serpent bar and is like ‘okay i’m in put me in the gang’, and they’re like “ okay but first we’re going to haze you like you’re a pledge at Alpha Sigma Phi at Centeral Florida State University. “

The black hood is all like “Betty publish this story about your mother and her past on the south side” but like he literally sends her a newspaper clipping from back in the day. So don’t people already know about this? Why is it a big deal? Riverdale is small and gossipy as we’ve already seen so like did no one read the newspaper that day or did Alice gather them all up and burn them before anyone got their morning paper from their doorstep?  

The Sinclairs roll up and “ Nicholas” as Veronica calls him at least 11 times in the span of this 45 second scene is like “ this hotel sucks” and Veronica is like “ The five seasons is lovely.”  So this is supposed to be a play on the four seasons which are VERY fancy hotels. In what world would a town like Riverdale have anything close a four seasons or anything close to the kind of apartment that the Lodges live in? Nicholas should be complaining about having to stay at a Best Western or as this show would probably call it a Best Eastern or some bs like that, because that is far more plausible and riverdale is nothing if not completely plausible. So where do I know this Nicholas guy from?  Okay so I JUST discovered that his name is St. Clair and not Sinclar. Fucking sue me. I’m not going back to change it. that’s just too much work and I literally could not care less. He was that kid DJ in XOXO and in Staten Island summer. Oh shut the fuck up he was in 13! The musical. That’s fucking hilarious. Mirder me.

So Alice (whose bangs are once again different and I can’t handle it omg pick a style and stick to it) is all like Betty did you write this letter yourself for attention you sneaky little bish. Honestly it’s not going to shock me if the person who is calling Betty isn’t the real black hood and just someone fucking with her. How iconic would it be if it was Cheryl being like “ you threatened me in the bathroom so now i’m going to ruin your whole fucking life”. That would honestly make sense. So either Alice or Betty are getting Black Hood notes from a copy cat. OR there are two blackhoods. Who the hell knows?

Archie is in his bedroom pumping iron because you know he’s a man.

Jughead is trying to learn the serpent pledge and honestly shouldn’t it just be like “ I promise to share and be a friend” ala the girl guides. That’s so much simpler. So Jughead has to take care of hot dog and get spat on while what’s his face screams in his face and to top that all off he has to put his hand in the Rattle snake enclosure and i’m like okay i’m out. No gang for me. Toni calls Jughead Juggie and honestly i’m cringing.

Betty keeps coming for her mother and i’m like chill bish.

Veronica, Nick, and Archie are hanging out in her bedroom and it’s the strangest trio ever. Veronica turns down a line of coke because she’s too full from eating copious amounts of pasta at dinner i’m sure.

If Betty could change her ring tone I would be like SUPER grateful. Okay thanks.  She finds out she would recognize the face under the hood and i’m like no shit don’t like 11 people live in this town? The black hood is like “ I’m your only friend so cut Veronica loose” and not going to  lie that’s totally something I would do.

Jughead and Betty greet each other like they’re coming back from war in the middle of Pops dinner and they both just sit across the table from one another and feed each other lies. So healthy. So not annoying.

Nick is throwing a party and Cheryl is like fuck you all i’m coming to this thing. She’s Riverdale’s “ Resident IT girl” and she wants EVERYONE to know it.

It’s like three minutes into the party and Nick is like “ you’re friends are boring let’s all get high” and Veronica is like let’s pretend to be normal and i’m like  is it normal that 15 year olds get high in hotel suite off pixie stick esque mystery drugs?

Betty tears Veronica a new asshole and is honestly SUPER harsh but honestly pretty honest and i’m like Betty did you have to be so brutal? But whatever. Into it.

Toni rolls up to warn Jughead about joining the gang but all I could focus on was the dog in the background.

Nick is coming on to Veronica and she’s like lol we’re friends, no bro. Then he’s like “listen up bitch. If you don’t blow me i’m going to tell my daddy to tell your daddy to go fuck himself.” So like yikes.

The black hood is like defs not #Teambughead and is like okay Betty dump him. She’s like shit, and basically begs Archie to break up with Jughead for her and I would be judgy but I once made my sister quit my job for me so like bitches in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.

So Alice rolls up to this gala in a very TS style fashion owning the snake label in a romper that basically goes down to her belly button. She promptly tells her good for nothing husband to shut up and continues to act as if she owns the place. I love it.

Nick is like “ omg so sorry for trying to blackmail you into sleeping with me V. I’ve been to rehab btw” and Veronica is like “ Okay we can be BFFs again. Let’s drink some ginger ale.”

Archie breaks up with Jughead for Betty in front of his whole new posey and it’s ice cold. The Serpent's proceed to beat the living shit out of Jughead and i’m like cute. Best way to gain loyalty from your new member.

Nick and Cheryl are chatting and it’s going well until he’s like “ hmmm she seems into me. Guess I’ll roofie her.” Like what the actual fuck you monster?

Josie and the Pussycats + Veronica  decide to pull out a cover of a song from Rent and i’m like i’m not mad but why? It just seems like such a random choice.  They note Nick taking a clearly fucked up Cheryl “ out for some air” and i’m like are you not in a literal tent?

They run through the halls of the 5 seasons and discover a master set of keys because all hotels just leave those hanging around. They rescue Cheryl and beat the living shit out of Nick which like good on you but that’s like super illegal and he’s so the type to lawyer up with Daddys money.

Black Hood tells Betty to go to this abandoned house to find out who he is and i’m like bitch this is SUCH a bad idea. Obviously he was never going to tell her who he is. Like what did she expect she’d put the mask on turn around and be like “ OLD MAN SMITHERS!” like this is some Scooby Doo type shit? Clearly not you silly bish.

Okay so we all gather around Cheryls bedside and Archie is ready to go FULL red circle on Nick and honestly betty is almost just sitting there like “ why am I here?”

Toni and Jughead admire his new tattoo while he ices his now fucked up face and then suddenly they're making out and i’m like okay murder me i’m not here for this.

Black Hood is like “ Betty what the fuck you’ve been telling Archie we’ve been wheeling! That’s so rude. I’m going to murder your whole family if you don’t give me the name of someone to murder” and she’s like “ Nick the would be rapist” and black hood is like “ yas good one. We are totes twins.”

Boom. Episode over. There’s a new episode in like two days so like a bitch will be back.

#riverdale #riverdale roundup #Bughead #jughead jones #betty cooper #archie andrews #veronica lodge #the cw #the cw riverdale