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freefallingup13 · 3 years

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Toni AU; The Organization pt. 4

Okay so apparently this is Chapter 2, and it doesn’t make sense for me to split it up, so this one will be long!

TW: Gun violence, Death by gun (unnamed, NPC-like characters), Witnessing a panic attack (twice in this piece), Gunshot wound, Death Threats

Part 1 here Part 2 here Part 3 here

Part 5 here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Besides the small hiccup regarding Derek's relationship status, the plan that his father set up was a success. Toni and Derek began hand-to-hand combat training and learned military tactics. They spent hours learning how to use every gun, blade, and explosive that passed through their compound. Toni was especially attentive to the lessons about espionage. Derek was interested in it, but he didn't take it very seriously.

As for Derek and Toni's relationship, they carried on as normally as they could. Toni was a little curt for a while, but after a couple of weeks they went into a regular rhythm. Wake up. Breakfast. Lessons. Lunch. Work. Dinner. Sleep. Repeat. It was hard to avoid each other in their small apartment, and not talking to each other didn't work when they had to collaborate with each other on projects for class. Derek wasn't too sure about what she thought of him. He'd been absolutely terrible about the entire thing, after all. But she was soon back to her normal self. 'Master Derek' this, and 'Master Derek' that. Usually, it bothered the hell out of him, but he found it a welcome greeting after the complete silence she'd given him for days.

She honestly didn't mean to be so quiet. She apologized profusely for being so rude every time he brought it up. Derek could never figure out why she was silent, of course. That would be unprofessional of her, and it would worry him. Honestly, though, she didn't really know herself. Those few days after the dinner were a numb blur, every single thought in her head uncertain. It was always a mix of half-sentences and words jumbled in her head, never a finished sentence, never a complete thought. She couldn't remember a single bit of it, only that overall she felt nothing at all.

It was about a year later that they were out and about on one of Derek's day trips. Today they were driving and hiking through a nature park in Washington. It had an ulterior purpose, considering Derek's father. They were to take notes on the local fauna and determine whether they were knowledgeable enough about foraging to both survive and not poison themselves.

The trip also became an exercise in parkour.

"Here, here! Stay down!" Derek told her as he slid under a fallen log, propped on top of some giant tree roots. "Get down!"

"Obviously!" Toni seethed as she dove in headfirst, intending to provide cover from the other side. Slipping her backpack off of one arm, she unzipped the side pocket and pulled out a pistol. As she pulled out two magazines and put them in her left jacket pocket, she glanced at Derek, who was fumbling to do the same. She dug her heel into his side, and he turned to protest when a bullet shot into the bark above his head, making him yelp and scurry backwards. "Derek, focus! We're dead unless you do!"

"Alright, alright! Jesus,." His grip tightened on the pistol in his hand. Nobody should die today. He found himself thinking. It's just not fair.

He kept a watchful eye and kept ready to fire. He couldn't see anybody in all these ferns. This was nothing like target practice or their paintball sessions. It was literally impossible to see from this angle.

A tug on his pant leg drew his attention. "Turn around. There's a clear path to my left. We'll have to run, they've gotta be closing in."

Toni shielded her eyes from the bits of bark shattering above her face. She was having just as much trouble as Derek seeing anything but plants, but whoever these assailants were, they were clumsy. They'd moved the plant leaves with their guns as they swept the area to find where they were, and she saw black sleeves peeking out from the trees. They were set like a dotted line in front of her, but there was a gap that was very big, big enough for them to run through. If they stayed here, they'd get pinned, right? Who knows what these people were trying to do, or who they were. it definitely seemed like they were trying to kill them.

She kept her eyes on the assailants as Derek clumsily turned himself around to face the same direction. "I'll go first. You need to be right behind me, okay? If I go first, it'll draw their fire." She ordered as she cast a glance at him. His eyes were wide and darting around more than hers were. His pale skin was beginning to get a thin sheen of sweat. His lips were parted and panting. Too agitated. Too panicked. She nudged his arm, and his head jerked towards her. "Derek, calm down. We're fine. We just have to get out of here. You're okay. You gotta focus."

It wasn't working. He was panicking more. his breath was getting faster, and his head jerked away at the sound of more gunfire. He wasn't listening to her anymore.

"Derek? Derek!?" She reached out to put a hand on his back. "Derek, listen to me, come on, we have to g-"

He put his head down against the ground and screamed. It was too late. He was having a panic attack.

The gunfire was ruthless now. They were hidden under the log, but now that he was screaming, they knew exactly where he was. All of the bullets were landing in the wood above his head.

Something snapped in Toni. She'd protected him before, but nothing like this. Never like this.

She wrenched the pistol out of his hands and turned him onto his side, pulling him further under the fallen tree. He curled up into a ball on his side, still screaming, hands clawing into his skull. Toni stayed bent over him, stroking his head softly and whispering to him as she grabbed the magazines out of his pocket and shoved them into her own.

Assess. Over one shoulder, behind them. She couldn't see anybody there. Maybe they were unevenly trained? Over the other shoulder, in front of them. Still as clumsy, still giving away their position.

This was too obvious. They were being directed that way. But what choice did they have?

There was a pause in gunfire. Two of the five, the ones on the left that had left the gap. She could see their arms. reaching to their sides. They were reloading.

Act.

Pushing off with her knee, she scrambled out of the hiding place and ran for the plants, tumbling in. The assailants started shooting at her, reacting to the movement. She crawled closer and closer, then took aim.

First gunman down.

She took a sharp breath and froze. Her hand started to shake. Memories of blood and bullets crept into the back of her mind, threatening to overtake her.

Don't remember them. Don't get compromised now. Finish it.

'finish him off’

Her fists clenched, and her face contorted monstrously. Not now. She knew what was most important about that memory, and he was right there under a tree, about to get shot unless she did something now.

She stood up and took the gunman's place behind the tree. They were arranged in a half circle, and they had apparently arranged themselves so they could see each other. The other gunman that was reloading had finished, and was shouting as he aimed his rifle at her.

Second gunman down. She took his place again, stumbling backwards as a bullet hit the tree trunk beside her face. Stepped a bit too far. Don't be clumsy now. She raised her arms.

Once. Miss. Twice.

Third gunman down. She scrambled to the next tree, falling into the ferns. She saw the next one jump in surprise, then they both quickly pointed their guns at each other.

Fourth gunman down.

The fifth gunman backed up, stumbling backwards into the foliage. She was parallel to the tree trunk now. Derek's screaming was beginning to quiet down. I'll give him honey later. For his throat.

"Derek, come on." She dragged him by his shoulders out into the open and onto his feet. "It's clear. Let's go. Come on."

He was sobbing now as she pulled him behind her. When he stumbled, she pushed him in front of her. The forest sounded so quiet now with only half the guns as before. She was able to lay a bit of covering fire as the assailants moved towards them, disturbing the foliage. She got one or two of them. The fewer, the better. Derek was shambling. His head must have been a mess, honestly. He wasn't ready for anything like this. All the training in the world wouldn't help him right now.

They reached a road. Toni stood behind him, gun at the ready and aimed for the trees behind them. The guns behind them had stopped. Judging by the cars passing on the road, either they didn't want to hit any civilians, or they didn't want anybody to know of their presence. Probably both.

"H-Hey, Do you think we could go in there?"

She spared a few seconds to glance. Across the road was a gas station. It wasn't getting any traffic at the moment. It would be a public enough place for them to lay low while she called for an extraction.

With a nod, she gestured for him to go first. She stayed for a few moments, her grip on the gun tightening as she scanned for any enemies. For all their sloppiness, they seemed to have disappeared. Tucking her gun into the back of her belt, she jogged after Derek, who was waiting on the other side of the road. He was staring at the ground, shifting on his feet, only looking up when he heard her approach. "Master, are you crazy? Never mind, come on, we've got to go inside.” She grabbed his arm and guided him in.

The door rang a tinny bell as they walked inside, Derek first and Toni soon after. A girl at the counter looked up, her head in her hands, then sighed and sat up. “Welcome to Johnny's Fuel. Anything I can help you with today?”

Toni shook her head at her with a tight smile, walking Derek out of sight of the cashier before turning him to face her. “Derek, are you alright?”

He was looking at the ground again. She tapped his shoulder a bit to make sure he wasn't unresponsive. “Derek?”

Derek jumped, stepping back a bit. His hands were held up in defense, but once he saw Toni's face, he started to understand what was happening. “T.... Toni...” His voice caught in his throat, and he shook his head. “I... I-I can't do this anymore, Toni... god...”

No. Was he going to rebel again?... It was the same thing he said before, isn't it? But, no... the way he was saying it... this was different. This was new. She'd never seen him like this before.

With a sigh, she cradled his face in her hands tenderly. “Derek...”

Something's moved. There's more than one cashier? Was her first thought. The bathroom door had opened, and heavy boots thudded against the floor. It could have been anyone. It was anyone.

All she saw was the face of a man in rage and a gun.

“Derek!” In one quick movement, she went from embracing Derek to shoving him to the side, throwing herself behind her master.

One shot. A shriek. Her shoulder suddenly became warm – she knew she wouldn't be able to use her arm anymore.

It didn't matter – she had to get Derek out of the way. There were objects crashing to the floor, and Derek was screaming her name as she shoved him into an aisle with her bad shoulder. The pain hadn't kicked in yet, and she was too on edge to care even if it had.

The both of them collapsed to the floor, and Toni scrambled for the gun in the small of her back. No time, there wasn't enough time-

“Get up, Alvar!” The man bellowed as he cocked his gun, storming towards their aisle. “You destroyed my family, and I'll make sure you never do it again!”

“Derek, get my gun, I can't get it,” Toni ordered firmly as she slipped her backpack off her shoulders.

“What the hell – Toni, what the hell-”

“Get it!”

“Alvar! Come out!”

“Get it!”

“I-I'm trying! You have to get up!”

With a cry, she rolled onto her right arm and grabbed wildly at her back. Her hand collided with Derek's clawing madly for a grip. He was getting closer.

“I've got it! He-”

There was no time. She snatched it out of his hand, whipping it out in front of her just as the man came around the corner. Both of her hands clenched into fists as she pulled the trigger. When he didn't fall down, she pulled the trigger even more until the gun clicked empty several times.

The gun stayed in the air for a few moments before falling to the floor, and Toni's chest heaved as she rolled onto her back.

“Toni, you got shot... Oh my god...”She felt a pressure on her shoulder, and Derek pulled her to sit up against him. Her gaze drifted to the pressure, and she saw that her green jacket now had a dark growing stain underneath his hand. Toni's entire body tensed in his grasp, and she looked up at him with fearful eyes and a strangled cry.

Derek was completely dumbfounded. Everything had happened so fast – the gunmen had appeared out of nowhere, an attempted assasination. He stared in front of them at the body on the floor. Who was that man? What did Derek do?

Suddenly, a new pair of feet appeared. Again? He looked up and saw another gun pointed at his face. It was a teenager behind this one, hair red as fire and jade green eyes. This kid couldn't be any older than Derek and Toni. “Who are you and what the hell just happened?” The stranger demanded, shoving the gun at them for emphasis.

Toni's head shot up at the new voice, and at the sight of the gun, she gasped, jerking her arm up to shoot again. The stranger shouted and took a step back, his grip tightening on the gun in his own hand. “It's empty!” Derek shouted, holding his hand out at the stranger. “I-It's empty! It's okay! Don't shoot! Don't shoot!”

The stranger growled as his eyes narrowed in suspicion, and Derek pulled Toni as close to him as he could, pulling the gun from her hand. She stared at her hand in confusion as it was torn away from her, and Derek set it down on a shelf. “See? It's fine. Don't shoot, please. Please.”

His words seemed to set off a switch in Toni, and she whimpered, turning to bury her face in Derek's shirt. She clutched at him and pushed at the ground with her legs. All he could do was hold her tightly as he gulped and stared at the person in front of him. “Please... Look, she's scared... she didn't mean it, honest... she's scared...”

“Ryan? Is everyone alright?”

He cast a glance over his shoulder, but her arms weren't raised. No gun. Still, as he turned his head around, something about her voice prompted him to turn back to see her better. She paused at this, but returned his gaze in confusion.

Platinum blonde hair, almost white. Her cheeks sloped smoothly into the softest lips he'd ever seen. And her eyes! Blue eyes, baby blue on the inside becoming cobalt on the rim. It felt like he was staring into a galaxy, beauty and bewilderment creeping into his heart and taking a firm hold.

“Hey! I'm talking to you!”

Derek's attention was snapped back to the red-haired boy. “What the hell happened?”

“There's – okay, there's people trying to kill us, okay? I don't know why, something's going wrong, we were just out here for a trip in the park, and people started shooting at us –“ His eyes flicked to the gun, and he shook his head desperately. “Please, for the love of god, can you just put the gun down?”

“Give me any reason why I should,” the stranger – Ryan – scoffed. “You two just walked in and murdered somebody!”

Toni screamed at the stranger's voice, curling up into Derek. “He's gonna kill us, he's gonna kill us, Derek... Derek...” She was starting to sob into his chest, clutching him close.

“Stop! Come on, look at her! She's scared, we have no idea what's going on!” Derek shouted. “That guy tried to kill us first, he shot her! We were just trying to protect ourselves!”

“He shot her?” The girl's voice behind him again drew another glance from him. Well worth it, in his opinion. “Where did he shoot her?”

“Her shoulder. I-It's bleeding,” Derek said quickly, adjusting himself to sit Toni up so the girl could see. “I need to get her help.

”Please, please help. She's scared. We don't know what's going on, she's scared,” Derek pleaded, turning back to Ryan, who had lowered his gun a little out of uncertainty. “Please. Nobody else has to die today. Please.”

They all sat like that for a while in silence, Derek’s heart pounding in his ears. He thought he would go deaf, but the girl scoffed and walked towards them. “Ryan, put that thing away. They need help, stop it.”

Ryan looked at her in confusion, but lowered his gun. “Cora, this is dangerous...”

Cora. Her name was Cora. Derek found himself whispering it under his breath as Cora approached them. It was soft, and beautiful. Just like her.

“Who cares? The gun is empty. They're scared. Just stop,” Cora told Ryan as she kneeled down next to the pair. “Is she okay? Does she need bandages?”

“No, we've got some. We've got bags... Our bags...” He reached out for the one that Toni dropped in her panic, and Cora reached for the same one. Their fingers touched, and Derek gasped a little from the sudden rush of dopamine in his system. It felt like somebody had stroked his skull and spine in soft fabric or water. It was a wonderful sensation.

... Awh, hell...

“Oh! I'm sorry!” Cora drew her hand back. “I-I didn't mean to startle you.”

Derek shook his head and blinked. “No, you're... You're fine.” He mumbled as he grabbed the bag, opening it. He rummaged around inside for the first aid kit, but his fingers came into contact with something a lot heavier. When he pulled it out, he was staring at the burner phone that his father always sent with them on trips. “Oh, thank god...” He sighed in relief as he flipped it open, starting to dial a number. Then he realized what he was doing, and looked up at Ryan and Cora. “You guys... You guys need to go. Now.”

“What? You better not be pulling anything funny, call the cops with that thing.” Ryan warned, pointing the gun at the phone as he kneeled in front of them. “She needs an ambulance.”

“No, you don't understand, that's not what this is for,” Derek said as he pulled the first aid kit from the bag and snapped it open. It was a little difficult with Toni grabbing at his arms, trying to hide beneath them, but he was able to get the gauze and pads. “This is for calling back-up. It's protocol for them to kill all witnesses. You guys need to leave before I call, and that means you need to leave now.”

“Back-up?” Cora glanced at Ryan with concern in her eyes, and Ryan's grip tightened on the gun as he spoke. “Excuse me?”

“Ryan for the love of god, put that stupid gun away!” she said, pushing the gun so that it pointed at the shelf. Ryan looked at her incredulously, and Cora looked apologetically at Derek. “I'm so sorry, we got robbed last month, and ever since then, Ryan's been carrying around this stupid water gun, it's not real.”

“What- Cora!”

“Shut up! They're fine, they need help!”

“Hey...” Derek put a hand on Cora's arm, and she looked at him. Her eyes held concern, confusion. “Look, you have to go. The cops might come, but you can't tell them about us. Our back up is going to take the body and make it look like an armed robbery. I-I don't know what to tell the cops – tell them you guys were on break, or blew off the rest of the shift. But nobody can know that you guys were here when this happened, or you're going to die. They'll kill you.”

The two gas station workers looked at each other, obviously disturbed by the notion. Ryan opened his mouth to ask a question, but Cora shushed him. “I... I think it's better we don't ask.” She noted, looking at Derek again. “This sounds bad.”

Ryan looked frustrated, but nodded. “I'll get the car.” He said before walking out stiffly. The jingle of the bell made Derek relax a bit, and he focused on flipping Toni onto her back. “It's okay... It's okay... Shhh....”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Asked Cora, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I wish I could have stopped this from happening...”

Derek shook his head. “It... It comes with the business, I guess...” He mumbled as he unrolled the gauze. He didn't think anything of the note until he looked up at Cora and saw the sadness in her expression. “I- D-Don't worry about it. Look...”

He put a hand on hers and looked her in the eyes. “Please. The best thing you can do now is go home and stay safe. Don't tell anybody about me and Toni. I…” He shook his head. “No more people should die today. Nobody should have. I don't want anybody else to get hurt. Please go home.”

They stared at each other for a while, and Derek lost himself for those few moments. Neither of them seemed to know what to do, but no words felt like they needed to be said.

“Derek...”

His attention was called away from Cora as Toni put her hand on his elbow, pulling his arm down to drape over her. “Derek...”

“Car's ready.” Ryan had come back in, and stared down at the three of them. Toni, who seemed to have calmed down from her panic, turned away from his gaze and pulled Derek's arm to cover her. She felt vulnerable, just lying with her head on Derek's lap like this.

Derek and Cora's hands shot back to their own laps, and Derek gestured with his head as he picked up the gauze again. “Go. You gotta go. I gotta make this call. Go.”

Cora nodded and stood up, and Derek heard their whispers as he dialed the phone.

“Do you think we can trust him?”

“Do you really want to die?”

“Ugh... fine...”

He laughed a bit to himself, then cleared his throat as he put the phone to his ear. As the dial tone rang, he thought to himself, hoping the consequences wouldn't be too severe when they returned to the compound. Toni's breathing was steady beneath him as he took her jacket off and started to bandage the wound.

Everything felt so lonely all of a sudden. It was peaceful, but without Cora here, it all felt lacking. He had the feeling it would stay that way for a while.

“Second, what's your status? Everything alright?”

Derek shook his head, securing the wrap on Toni's shoulder. “No. We've been attacked. Third is injured. We require immediate extraction. We're at a gas station on the highway called Johnny's Fuel...”

#Toni AU #The Organization AU #emotional whump #gun whump #whump #unrequited love #unfinished series

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taco-taco-belle · 4 years

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, A crack in the ice Chapter 1

Authors notes

This is my first ever writing piece, I hope you guys enjoy it! As some of you know I am visually impaired, which means I do not read print like a lot of you do, Because of this there will probably be a lot of punctuation errors and I am really sorry about it. I tried my best to remember everything about how print works, and hope you can still enjoy the story! My messages and ask box are always open if any of you want to pop in, and notify me about punctuation mistakes and words that were spelled wrong in my writing, or just to say hi!💜

Summary

Ever since the battle of Hogwarts, and the defeat of you know who along with his death eaters, The Wizarding World has been at peace. Wizards and witches feel secure, and don’t expect any nasty surprises or uprisings in the near future. So what happens when alliances against them form in the most unlikely places, And a new struggle for power begins? Well, the newest generation at Hogwarts is about to find out!

Lucie gave a cat like stretch, and tossed her quill onto the table in front of her. She squinted down at her watch, it was a quarter to midnight, and they had to meet the others in 15 minutes. Lucie Felt the nervous excitement, that always came when she was about to do something she knew she wasn’t supposed to be doing, mixed with exhaustion. It had taken much longer than previously anticipated, to finish her potions essay on the draft of a ternal sleep. Matthew seated beside her wasn’t even halfway through his own essay he kept sneaking glances at Lucie’s when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. Christopher was seated in his favorite arm chair by the fire, immersed in one of his well thumbed notebooks.

Christopher usually did not join Lucie, And Matthew when they did school work together, In the Ravenclaw common room. This wasn’t because he didn’t enjoy spending time with his friends, Christopher was very intelligent, and had an amazing memory. this meant that he excelled in all of their classes, and finished assignments incredibly quickly. instead of using his ample amount of free time to socialize with his friends, he spent it on his research. He was fascinated in the ways that everything magical, and non-magical function. None of his friends ever got annoyed at Christopher for this, they knew it was what he enjoyed doing. If it made her cousin happy then Lucie was satisfied.

Lucie scanned the common room. Ravenclaws despite their reputation of put togetherness, And Great organizers were a very untidy bunch. Scraps of parchment, with half thought out calculations, and ideas scribbled on them, Lay strewn across tables, and chairs. Broken quills lay beside chocolate frog wrappers, and empty ink bottles. The mess looked even worse contrasted against the common rooms elegantly arched ceiling covered in constellations, And spotless white bookshelves. She wasn’t judging her fellow comrades housekeeping however, Lucie was making sure everyone else had gone up to bed.

Matthew gave her a teasing grinn, which Lucie ignored. They both knew that the last Ravenclaws, A group of giggling fifth year girls had made their way upstairs, A half an hour ago. Despite this, Lucie had been nervously glancing over her shoulder, every five minutes. The sick feeling at the pit of her stomach had been increasing, as the night wore on. Lucie suffered from terrible nerves, every time they snuck out of Ravenclaw Tower, ever since she was 12 years old. In fact, she suspected they had only intensified throughout the years. Matthew treated the situation as he treated everything else, not very seriously.

He always tried to reassure her, By pointing out the fact, that if they hadn’t gotten caught by now, they probably never would. In response to this, Lucie would always remind him that she was the head girl of Ravenclaw, And Matthew was both there Quidditch team captain, and the Minister of Magic‘s youngest son! So they couldn’t afford, to rely on probably. She would suffer through her nerves, however to be able to spend a few hours spending time with her beloved friends, each week.

“Luce shouldn’t we get going?” Matthew inquired, looking over at her. She nodded, neatly rolling up her essay, and stuffing it inside her school bag along with her quill, And ink bottle. Matthew looked down at his essay, and side dramatically. “I guess I shall have to bring this accursed piece of paper along!” Lucy gave Matthew a questioning look. Shall?, but all she said was “I am sure you can get Daisy to help you.” He made a face at her, and she grinned. They both knew, that he would prefer to work with James, or Thomas. Cordelia was one of Lucie’s favorite people in the world, but even she could admit that Daisy could be a little intimidating at times.

Though Cordelia could be withdrawn at times, she always gave off a quiet aura of confidence and authority. Lucie doubted that her best friend, was even aware of this aspect of her personality. She knew with certainty though, that they played a big role in Cordelia being Quidditch captain, And head girl of Gryffindor house. Whenever Daisy helped Math with his homework, she watched him intently the entire time to make sure he was focused, and didn’t put up with his dramatics. Jamie on the other hand, usually ended up getting into trouble with Matthew, or just doing most of the assignment for him. They were best friends as close as Lucie and Cordelia, and had been best friends before even coming to Hogwarts.

Matthew gave her one of his best winning smiles “ come on Luce help someone in need.” She Scoffed “ oh don’t try that on me Math. I have been immune to your charms since you tried to eat Christopher’s pet ladybug Mr. spots on a dare from my brother when we were eight.” He frowned “ not One of my finest moments. It’s a good thing father stopped me, I’ve heard ladybugs are positively ghastly for one’s complexion!” Lucie wasn’t even going to bother asking, where Matthew had gotten said information. “ Matthew no matter how many times you refer to my father as yours it will not make it true.“ and I still haven’t gotten over Mr. spots you know.” Christopher said quietly from the fire. Lucie laughed, You never knew when Christopher was listening and when he wasn’t. Sometimes she would recount a long story to him, or an explanation of something, before realizing that he wasn’t paying attention in the slightest. Christopher wasn’t rude he was just, as his older sister Anna put it off in his own world.

Matthew gave them both Hurt looks “ no respect even from my closest friends!” “ you’ll get respect from me when you finish your essay.” She said, Pointing to the piece of paper on the table in front of him. “ you’ll never get it from me.” Christopher said matter-of-factly, Turning a page of his notebook. Matthew waved his wand, and sent all of his possessions including the much hated essay flying into his bag, in an unorderly jumble.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t smart, Matthew was as intelligent as all of his fellow Ravenclaw’s. He would just rather do the spells, and potions they were assigned. Then in his words “ wasting hours of my life shut up in Ravenclaw Tower, up to my ears in books, and essays depriving the world of my many talents!” His friends also knew, though he would never admit it that Matthew struggled sometimes under the expectations set for him. His mother Charlotte was the minister of magic, and his older brother Charles had been head boy of Ravenclaw house. Everyone was always watching him, waiting to see if he would be another success of the family, Or a screwup that they were secretly ashamed about. The professors, even treated him differently than the rest of the class sometimes. This caused Matthew to say rude things in class, and act out sometimes. Lucie, And her brother never stayed mad at him for long because of it though, they knew he was just constantly under a lot of stress. Matthew was at his best when he was with his friends.

He looked over at her his dark green eyes reflecting the fire light, as if he knew she had been thinking about him. “ ready to go?“ yep.” She replied, standing up and crossing the dark blue carpeted floor to Christopher, as Matthew bent to retrieve their brooms from their hiding place beneath the table. Beside Matthews chair Oscar wined. Oscar Wilde, was Matthews much adored golden retriever. He had been a present from James, back in their fourth year, for Matthews birthday. Oscar hated it every time they left him at night, he was incredibly loyal to Matthew and his friends. Whenever they were in the common room he would follow Matthew wherever he went. Matthew spoiled Oscar to no end, and loved his dog as much as Oscar loved him. They even bared a resemblance to each other, With the same shaggy golden hair, and green eyes, though Oscars were much lighter than Matthews.

She gave Christopher a gentle tap on his shoulder “ Time to go Kit.” In the space of about a minute, her cousin had slipped back into his own world. He blinked his dark blue eyes up at her, from behind his gold rimmed spectacles. They were the same as Lucie’s father, and aunt Cecily’s. Though their other cousins, Thomas, Barbara, and Eugenia did not share them. he blinked “ is it? Odd how quickly time passes, we were just talking about my poor ladybug Mr. spots.” He glared over at Matthew, who was stroking Oscar’s floppy ears. His own, and Lucie’s brooms on the floor beside them. She didn’t bother telling Christopher that it had only been a minute or so, instead she went to the window, and slid it open. Freezing night air streamed into the room, causing the fire to sputter wildly in it’s grate. Lucie was glad for the cold air, she leaned out the window taking in big lung fulls of it. Enjoying how it helped clear her nerves, and wake her up.

Matthew tide their bags to the back of her broom, with a practiced hand. As Oscar Wilde sat looking up at him with a disgruntled expression. Christopher gave Matthews broom a look that matched Oscars, he despised flying he was the only member of their group that was not on there house quidditch team. He didn’t even own a broom, Christopher said he would prefer to keep his feet on the ground at all times. He usually rode on the back of Matthews broom, and Lucie carried her own, and Matthews school bags on the back of hers. There was usually no need to bring Christophers, since he almost always had all his work complete. Sometimes Lucie would leave some of her work to the last minute on purpose. So she could work on it with Cordelia. Even though they had had this routine in place since their second year at Hogwarts, Christopher still hadn’t adjusted to it.

Matthew and Christopher joined her at the window, as Oscar slunk over dejectedly, to a spot by the fire, no doubt to wait for their return a few hours later. Matthew handed Lucie her broom, it was a bit awkward with the two bags tied to the end of it but, they managed to get it out the window, where it floated there like an odd bird. Matthew performed in over the top bow, and held his hand out for her to take “ my lady your chariot awaits. Lucie rolled her eyes at him, but took his outstretched hand. Usually in the winter months they needed to help each other clamber out of the window, since the sill was usually slick with ice. She climbed up onto the cold slippery stones. The sharp edges of them bit into her knees through her robes. Wincing Lucie began to slide off the ledge, and Matthews warm fingers still clutched tightly in hers, into the still dark Night below.

I really hope you guys liked this! if you could please like, And reblog, And don’t be shy you can leave a note telling me what you liked, and didn’t like about this first chapter. I will try to post the next one as soon as I possibly can, although I don’t know when that will be. I promise the next one will be a lot more interesting, I just needed to put a lot of set up in this first one. I hope you guys are all staying safe and healthy!❤️

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7-wonders · 5 years

Text

As Above, So Below Ch. 16

Summary: Your average, mundane life as a college student is flipped upside down when the man you thought you knew as your next-door neighbor turns out to be the God of the dead. When Michael lures you down to Hell, everything that you thought you knew about the world is proven wrong.

Word Count: 4234

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated, and I’d love if you reblogged and left a comment if you enjoyed this.

Michael’s gone by the time that you wake up, and you’re mildly impressed at how skilled he is at disentangling himself from your mess of limbs without managing to wake you up. You sit up in the large bed, eyes scanning across the room and cataloguing the mess that you left last night. The clothes strewn across the floor are reduced to nothing more than ripped pieces of fabric, and you cringe at the prevalent smell of sex that still wafts through the air. Falling back against the pillows, you notice a note sitting on Michael’s pillow and grab it. It’s written on actual parchment and with a quill and ink, as if he would ever write on a lowly sheet of notebook paper with a regular pen.

My dearest (Y/N),

How difficult it was to leave your side this morning. I could not possibly bare to wake you when you were so peacefully sleeping, and could have stayed in bed with you for an eternity, but alas, the Underworld cannot run itself. When you do wake, Desa has placed some of your belongings in the wardrobe. I, along with my council, will be in the library for the entirety of the day as we attempt to form a plan on how to defeat Satan. Please join us when you are dressed and ready. I eagerly await getting to see your angelic smile again, and will not feel whole until you are once again in my arms.

Eternally yours,

Michael

Clutching the letter tightly in your hands, you try desperately to calm your racing heart as your cheeks burn pink. Your finger traces the smooth cursive handwriting while you imagine Michael sitting at his desk and crafting such poetry. “You smooth bastard,” you mutter, throwing the covers off of your body and stepping onto the cool floor.

Whether Desa has finally given into your stubborn fashion choices or if she is just so happy to have you back that this is her gift to you, it’s a welcome surprise to see comfortable pants and shirts hanging snugly alongside Michael’s fine suits and cloaks. You take a quick shower, working the tangles out of your hair before slipping into your clothes and grabbing the pair of tennis shoes that you arrived here in.

You hadn’t realized how familiar the daily routine of the Underworld had become to you until you were ripped away from it, and it’s nice to be back in the midst of that familiarity. Taking a slight detour through the kitchens, you snag some sort of muffin from a tray and sneak back out, knowing how upset the Eidolon would get if something was out of order in their neatly-organized lives. That’s made nearly impossible, though, when all of spirits are immediately attracted to your aura. If everyone had thought that your ‘lily-white’ aura was strong before, it must be radiant by now. Their eyes, sunken into their sockets, are glued to you from the moment that you enter the kitchens, to the second that the door closes behind you.

Your feet skitter to a stop along the carpeted hallway when a red rubber ball rolls past you. Stopping it with your foot, you pick it up with a grin. There’s only one group that this ball could belong to, and the small chorus of giggles confirms your suspicions. A translucent little girl with tight braids and a gap between her teeth who floats above the ground, another girl with deep red eyes and tiny horns poking out of the snakes that make up her hair, and a boy who looks completely human come rounding the corner and screech to a stop in front of you.

“Princess!” Samael, the small demon boy, exclaims. You crouch down, extending the hand that holds the ball towards him.

“I believe this belongs to you three?” The small ghost known as Desdemona snatches the ball from your hand, rolling it between her hands while she attempts to stifle a giggle.

“Princess, we thought you weren’t able to come back.” You ignore the part where Desdemona calls you ‘princess,’ indulging the children in their fantasies.

“Hmm, everyone has a bit of magic to help them, don’t they?”

“You used magic to get back here?” Euryale asks.

“Something like that.”

“Can you play with us, Princess?” Desdemona changes the subject, obviously not pleased with such ‘boring’ subjects.

“I wish I could, but I’m actually on my way to meet King Hades.” The three gasp, all grinning widely.

“Are you two in love?” “Will you get married?” “Can we come?” “Are you gonna be the queen?” The three start shooting questions your way, all jumbling together in a cacophony of high-pitched, childlike glee.

“You know, I can’t understand you when you’re all speaking at the same time,” you tease, the three groaning as you stand. “I’ll see you guys later, okay? Stay out of trouble.”

“Will you play with us later, Princess?” Euryale asks.

“Of course. I can’t let you guys beat me at hide-and-go-seek again.”

“Goodbye, Princess!” The three chorus, waving at you as you turn and walk away.

The library door looms at the end of the hallway, but your pace slows down the closer that you get as you think. The questions that Euryale, Samael, and Desdemona threw at you all blended together as each child competed to be the loudest, but one manages to stick with you: “Are you gonna be the queen?”

Are you going to be the queen?

Your mind flashes back to the day that your health went downhill. Before you had been placed on bedrest, before you had even passed out at the foot of Michael’s throne. The day of your first judgment session, Michael had made a joke when you asked if there was somewhere for you to sit:

“Once you agree to take your place as my queen, then you can have a throne of your own.”

Was becoming queen the official moment that you take your place as co-ruler of the Underworld? Is it only upon the placing of a crown on your head that the prophecy is fulfilled? You chew on your bottom lip, introspective. For once, though, it’s not the idea of becoming a queen that has your mind whirring. Instead, you find yourself thinking of Satan and, more specifically, his plans.

From what you can recall, the reason that Michael is unable to leave the Underworld is because Satan hasn’t been able to be located. If Michael leaves, Satan would take the throne, both literally and figuratively. However, the wrench in all of this being’s plans is you. You’re what would prevent the apocalypse from happening; the moment you accept your position is the moment that the crisis of the end of the world is averted. Satan is determined to either kill you himself or somehow prevent you from taking your own throne. Surely he knows that you’re back in the Underworld, a creature like himself should easily be able to sense such things. Slowly, yet surely, an idea starts to form.

“Michael?” You call out, pleased at how you can use your telekinesis to open the heavy door just like everyone else does. The four members of Michael’s council, Michael included, stand upon your entrance. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s no worry,” a very large man, at least seven feet tall, with gaping sockets where his eyes should be makes his way over to you and takes your hand. “I am Thanatos. It’s a pleasure to meet you under better circumstances than last, Lady (Y/N).”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” you allow him to lead you towards the table, pulling out a seat for you next to Michael. He’s beaming at you, not bothering to hide his feelings around Zoe, Madison, and Thanatos, his closest friends.

“I trust you slept well, my love?” Michael inquires, sliding his hand into yours under the table.

“I did, thank you.” Madison and Zoe smirk at each other, the identical blushes on yours and Michael’s cheeks making it clear what happened last night.

“So, (Y/N), what was it that made your tone sound so urgent when you first came through the doors?” Zoe, taking pity on you, changes the subject.

“Oh! I think I may have a plan to defeat Satan.” Everything, even the fire itself, seems to fall silent at your statement. Three sets of eyes and one set of empty eye sockets stare at you, all looking shocked.

“Did I hear you right? You have been back for not even a full day, and you already have a plan?” Madison asks incredulously.

“I said that I ‘may’ have a plan. I’m honestly not sure if it’s going to sound stupid or not.”

“Well, tell us your plan, then.”

“As far as I’m aware, you haven’t been able to locate him yet. Is that correct?” You look to Michael, who nods, before continuing. “He obviously wants to either kill me or prevent me from taking the throne with Michael, that way he can take the throne himself. What if, in order to lure him here, we fake a coronation? Once we have him here, then we can defeat him.”

The council members are all quiet, thinking over what you’ve said. Michael absentmindedly rubs circles on your hand with his thumb, and you anxiously study his face while you wait for someone to speak.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Zoe questions, removing her thumbnail from her mouth long enough to speak.

“Satan, for all of his powers and strengths, is extremely impulsive. It’s always been his biggest flaw. If he knows that (Y/N) is here, and that we will be ‘crowning’ her, he will act on his first impulse, which will be to strike.” Michael has the gift to make everybody hold their breath as he speaks, words coming out of his mouth like they were composed by the world’s finest composers.

“I’m not worried about getting him here. It’s what happens once he’s here that worries me.”

“Would the other Olympians be able to come and help?” You ask, wrinkling your nose when they all chuckle.

“We didn’t mean to offend you, (Y/N), but the Olympians refuse to come down here unless they’re forced to do so. The ball that you attended is the only regular event that they attend,” Madison says.

“Screw them, then! We don’t need them. You guys are all gods, and I’m supposedly now the most skilled witch. Surely the five of us would be able to take down one of him.”

“He can’t die, though. It’s impossible to kill a creature such as he,” Michael says.

“We could trap him in Cocytus?” It’s the first that Thanatos has spoken since he introduced himself to you.

“Sorry, but what’s Cocytus?” You ask, cheeks turning red at your ignorance.

“Cocytus is a frozen lake in which traitors and those who have committed heinous crimes of varying degrees are trapped,” Michael explains quickly before looking at Thanatos. “That’s...I’m trying to think of a reason why this would be a bad idea, but I can’t. We could lure Satan to the palace with the fake coronation, combine our powers to transmute to Cocytus with him, and then melt the lake enough to trap him inside of it before freezing it back around him. Nobody or nothing has ever escaped from Cocytus; their consciousness is frozen the minute their body is, too.”

The hope in the room seems to be renewed at Michael’s workup of your original plan. It’s not a sure victory, and there’s plenty of things that could go wrong, but it seems like it just might work. Michael shoots you a glance, smiling at you proudly before standing up from his chair.

“If there are no further points of discussion, then we shall put this to a vote of either ‘yay’ or ‘nay.’ Lady Hecate?” You forgot that this was an official council meeting, hence the need for their original names.

Madison stands, smoothing her dress out behind her. “Yay.”

“Lady Achlys?”

“Yay.”

“Lord Thanatos?”

“Yay.”

“Lady (Y/N)?” You raise an eyebrow, looking at Michael in confusion.

“Um, I’m not a member of the council,” you laugh awkwardly.

“In times of emergency, I am allowed to appoint temporary council members. I have appointed you. How do you vote, Lady (Y/N)?” You stand slowly, biting your lip while you try to hide your smile.

“Yay.”

“I, King Hades, Lord of the Underworld, God of the Dead, and Prince of Hell, vote ‘yay,’ and hereby confirm that this plan shall be set into motion tomorrow at the mortal time of high noon. Lady Achlys shall be in charge of planning all that happens in the palace and during the ‘coronation.’ Lady Hecate shall assist Lady Achlys with her duties, as well as making sure that the joint transmutation will go off without a hitch. Lord Thanatos, having come up with the idea to trap Satan in Cocytus, will ensure that this is a feasible option to keep him trapped for the rest of eternity. The council is now adjourned.”

The rest of the council stands, making quiet conversation as they make their way out of the library. You start to follow, but Michael snags your hand and pulls you back towards him. His strong arms wrap around you, but he remains silent until the door swings shut and everyone is gone. Once that acts as his ‘all-clear,’ he spins you around in his arms so that you’re facing him.

“You were absolutely brilliant just then,” he remarks, kissing you gratefully. “I couldn’t have asked for a better council meeting than the one we just had.”

“Are you kidding me? You were so--so strong, and you looked entirely like the king that you are,” you gush, beaming up at him.

“Your flattery is far too kind. Anyways, now that this meeting is done, and with your ‘coronation’ looming,” you roll your eyes, playfully pushing at his chest, “I was wondering if you would like to...uh, what’s it called? Dammit, I had this all planned out,” Michael hisses the last part to himself, but you still overhear.

“Describe it, maybe I can help you with this modern term that has you so confused.”

“It’s when two people who are in a courtship go out and do activities in order to connect and learn more abou--dating! That’s what it is!” You giggle at his excitement. “Would you like to go on a date with me, (Y/N)?”

“I feel like we’re pretty far past the first date stage, but yes, I would love to go on a date with you, Michael. What do you have planned?”

“I don’t want to ruin the surprise, but I will tell you that it should help alleviate some of the longing that you get for certain aspects of your homeland,” Michael smirks. “Meet me at the front entrance of the palace in twenty minutes?”

“You’re really not going to tell me anything?” Your question comes out as a whine, but the pouty smile on your face tells a different story.

“Well, I would suggest wearing a sundress or something akin to that. I assume it will be warm where we end up.”

////////////

When you had agreed to letting Michael take you on a date, being ferried across a river by the terrifying Charon was not what you had expected. Michael had promised you that the journey wouldn’t be long, but minutes seemed to stretch for hours whenever one was in Charon’s overwhelming presence. To distract yourself, you observe the scenery around you, starting with the sky. Considering you’ve never been farther than the castle grounds, almost everything that you see is completely new to you. You’re most pleased to find that, the moment you boarded Charon’s ferry and sailed off on the River Styx, the sky turned from the eternal dark you’re so familiar with to a normal, albeit overcast, sky.

“Why is it always dark at the palace if the sky changes normally everywhere else?” You ask, leaning back in the boat to watch the clouds float by.

“I prefer it dark. Besides, it’s a complicated illusion spell, might as well make it to my liking,” Michael says simply.

“Would you maybe consider allowing it to be daytime at home? I think I miss the sun most of all when I’m down here.”

“Well...for you, yes.” You grin, kissing him thankfully.

“Thank you, Michael! It doesn’t have to be all of the time, but maybe just some of the time?”

“You called the palace your ‘home,’” Michael points out, avoiding eye contact with you. You freeze, thinking back to what you just said before nodding.

“I mean, it kind of is my home now. When I’m here, that’s home. You’re home.”

Michael wants to say something, but is stopped by the boat pushing up against the banks of the river. He stands, extending his hand to you to help you up. You keep your eyes cast towards the ground, reluctant to meet the fiery coals that make up Charon’s eyes, but Michael stares at him with an unflinching gaze.

“Thank you, Charon. Your skills are much appreciated.”

“Will you tell me where we’re going now?” Michael still has his hand tightly holding yours as he leads you through a field of grass, the green turning brown and dead with every step he takes.

“Do you remember when I explained to you the different levels of the Underworld?”

“Tartarus, the Asphodel Meadows, the Mourning Fields, and Elysium,” you recite.

“Very good. Elysium, if you will recall, is the afterlife for the especially distinguished. While those who have committed unspeakable evils or have sold their souls spend eternity in their own personal hell, the souls that occupy Elysium get to live in their own personal heavens. I remembered a dream that you had quite frequently your first few days here, when you were keeping yourself locked in your room?”

“You were reading my thoughts?” You accuse teasingly.

“I was worried, wanted to make sure that you weren’t going mad or something equally as terrifying. You slept often during that time, and had a lot of recurring dreams, including this one. It...it was the only time that I felt that you were at peace, and happy.”

“The meadow dream? How did you…?”

“It’s always stuck with me. How alive you felt when you were laying in the sun, one hand holding a book and the other hand dipped in the running stream. I don’t know if it was just a dream, or a memory that you held dear to your heart, but I wanted to recreate it for you, even if for this short amount of time.”

Michael waves his hand in the air, and the empty field changes to the meadow that you had dreamed about so many times before. You clap a hand over your mouth, eyes scanning the scene ahead of you as your mind tries to discern if this is all really happening. Michael’s smiling slightly, watching the range of emotions that cross your face: joy, disbelief, shock, happiness.

“My parents used to take me to this spot all the time when I was younger, before everything went to shit,” you mutter, stepping ahead of him and further into the meadow. “It was one of their favorite spots, and my dad almost proposed to my mom here.”

“You’ve never talked about your family before.”

“Never seen a need to,” you shrug, tilting your head back and letting the rays of the sun warm your skin. “C’mon, let’s see just how well Elysium recreated this place.”

Every detail, from the large trees that line the clearing to which patch of flowers grows where, is exactly how you remember it. Although you haven’t been to that spot in years, most likely since elementary school, being here makes it feel like you last stepped foot in this plush grass yesterday. Slipping your shoes off, you flex your toes as you feel the bare earth under your feet. Michael remains where he’s standing, choosing to watch as you take in everything that Elysium has to offer.

“How are you wearing a full suit out here?”

“The temperature doesn’t bother me like it does you,” Michael says, allowing you to take his hands and pull him along to a shady spot under a large tree.

“Would it bother you Above?”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

You sit down against the oak tree, leaning your back against the coarse wood. Although you expect Michael to remain standing or, if you’re lucky, sit next to you, it’s a pleasant surprise when he lays his head in your lap. Michael’s curls fan out, forming an ironic halo around his head. Carding your fingers through his long hair, you hum a tune and watch as his eyes close in bliss.

“I can see why this place is so dear to your heart; we could stay here a thousand years and never be bothered,” Michael mutters, stifling a giggle as you start to trace his lips with your fingertips.

“When I was little, it all seemed so magical. I thought that fairies lived here, and that they were hiding in the trees. My mom helped me make houses for them, and I would make them tiny flower crowns in the hopes that they would finally reveal themselves to me,” you laugh lightly, shaking your head. “Ridiculous, right?”

“Not really. Need I remind you that you’re in the Underworld and currently holding the head of the God of the Dead in your lap?” You purse your lips, remaining silent at the realization that fairies aren’t all that crazy.

The flowers that surround you are too tempting to not make flower crowns out of, so you pick a few of different varieties and start to organize them.

“The flowers seemed to grow in the wake of every step I took which, looking back with what I know now, they probably did. My parents grew tired of me constantly asking them what each type of flower was, so they bought me a book that identified all different types of flowers. I memorized hundreds of them, based on the pictures that accompanied each name.”

Although it’s been a long time since you made such a crown, your hands easily remember the movements. The stems of the flowers seem to weave together of their own volition, the chain growing longer as you decide which flowers would look best next to each other.

“Larkspurs, right?” Michael asks, eyes open and staring up at you.

“Hmm,” you nod in agreement. “They can grow to be eight feet tall, but you only need the smallest of larkspur plants for making a flower crown.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know too much about flowers. I mean, look at what’s happening just because I’m in the same area as they are.” Michael’s right: the flowers are all wilted around his legs, dying from his mere proximity.

“You just don’t know how to care for them yet. I’ll teach you,” picking up another stem, you twirl it between your fingers before changing the subject. “Hydrangeas are one of my favorite flowers; I love the colors that they can change to.”

Michael watches silently, large blue eyes taking everything in. He looks almost enraptured by the movement of your hands, twisting and bending the stems of each flower until they start to form a crown. You tie the ends together with two longer stems, finishing the crown off by interloping some lily of the valley between the hydrangeas and larkspurs. Smirking at the idea that’s just formed, you quickly slip the crown on top of his head.

He sits up quickly, scowling, but you can’t help the gasp that slips out at his appearance. Michael can only be described as beautiful, the purple and blue hues complimenting his eyes perfectly. It’s a welcome splash of color to his dark wardrobe, including today’s black ensemble. Somehow, it almost makes the fearful Lord of the Underworld look softer.

“You’re beautiful, Michael.” You whisper, not wanting to interrupt the symphony that the mockingbirds are conducting in the trees above you.

“I believe that title belongs to you, my love,” Michael begins to take the crown off of his head, fully intending to place it on yours, but you stop him.

“Keep it. I can make another one for myself. Besides, this one suits you.”

“For you, anything,” Michael says finally, nodding and removing his hands from the crown. “But if you tell anyone about this, I’ll have to punish you.”

“How so?” Michael’s face gets closer to yours, your breath hitching at the feeling of his lips ghosting across yours.

“Kitchen duty with the Eidolon,” he mutters, laughing when you groan loudly.

“You, Michael, are truly an evil man,” you joke, kissing him quickly before standing.

“Hmm, so they tell me. Shall we make our way back to the palace? There is, after all, a coronation to be planned.” Your heart thumps at the reminder of the coronation, the relaxing time in the meadow helping you to forget about the dangerous plan that was to come. Now, there was no running away from the fact: this time tomorrow, you would either be victorious...or dead.

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deardumbdiary · 4 years

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I don’t exactly know where to start even though people usually start from the beginning, but that doesn’t really make sense to me because the beginning is all just a jumbled up mess, I guess once I start writing it will all just flow through my fingertips and onto the page and I’ll try my best not to make this sound anything like a book because that’s not what this is, this is my life and I need to be honest with myself and write exactly who I am and how things happened in my own words. I guess to start off with I’ll explain that I have 4 siblings to which I did grow up with, although my father was never in the picture for nearly all that I remember but my mother was and always has been, on and off between me cutting her in and out of my life (you’ll understand later) Most of my memories start back in a small three bedroom house in a quiet suburb of town, of course before this I do remember some small things, but nothing that amount to where I am today, but the house we lived in was definitely overcrowded with five to six people living in it (My mum, me, my sister, my brother, my other brother and my other sister as well as my mum’s boyfriend who is also the other kids dad but not mine.) I always thought highly of my family because mum always had told me that we were special and that everyone loved us kids and we could make friends with anyone, I always thought this to be true even though I was always bullied in any school I went to, to which I never understood why until about a year or so ago. I never liked going to school, our family was never organized, homework was never handed in because it was never done, I never read my reader at home, I was never on time. Mum and I would always argue in the morning about me getting up for school, to which I would only get up an hour and a half later and only because I had the blankets pulled off me, I never really faked being sick because usually if I kept up the fight long enough I would win and would be allowed to stay home, sometimes for days on end or when mum didn’t have enough money to supply our school lunches or the petrol to drive us there.

The house was always messy and I don’t mean your normal messy, I mean everything that shouldn’t be on the floor was on the floor messy, dirty dishes, food scraps, kids toys, dirty clothes; our laundry was piled high with washing that hadn’t ever been done and to top this off, we had a new dog nearly every year, either because the last one died, ran away or mum gave it up because she couldn’t look after it. I tried so much to keep the house clean but there was just no point in the end, I got tired of it and no one cared anyway. Mum had depression really bad and was constantly in bed on her phone or sleeping, but this would all change when my mums boyfriend was around, the house would become semi clean, but mums attitude would become quite angry towards us kids, she would say such things as;

“You kids don’t do anything, clean up this pigsty”.

I could never understand it though, the house was so bad all of the time and she never did anything about it, she never washed dishes or mopped floors, but expected all of us kids to clean up when she wanted us to and if we didn’t we would be threatened with our toys being thrown out. We were only kids and we were only following what our mother did all the time, which was nothing.

As well as having to deal with all that, we all had nits for years, with nothing done about it. But more on that later.

One night when I was 8 years old, I was really sick with Bronchial Spasms (kind of like asthma but instead it’s an infection of the lungs) I was laying on the couch and I rolled over to which I looked at the asthma spacer sitting on the table and through the spacer I could see a white silhouette of a little girl standing in the door of the hallway, I have always been spiritual even back then, I was always interested in the paranormal and quite frequently was dabbling in things I shouldn’t have been, anyway, I studied this figure for a little bit thinking I was just seeing things to which then the spacer fell and the little girl was still there, I screamed and rolled over, my mother came racing out asking if I was okay, I told her what I had seen but she said I was just imagining it. I believed her for a little while until a few weeks later when this little girl started coming into my room and sitting on the end of my bed, I was terrified at that point to sleep in my room, I quite often would sleep in the lounge room or my mums bed which in turn resulted in arguments and fights between mum and I, sometimes I would be forced to sleep in my room which I hated and eventually during the night I would end up in the lounge room anyway. One night while I was asleep on the lounge room floor, I awoke for no reason at all, I sat up and looked around wondering why I was awake and then I seen it or should I say her, standing in behind the curtain of the sliding door, I didn’t think much of it and for some reason I was not afraid, I thought maybe it was my sister so I went to go over there and push the body shaped bulge in the curtain, but as I did, she ran from behind the curtain and there was nothing there at all. This kind of stuff went on for years, regardless of whether I paid attention to it or not, she was always there, mum just thought it was anxiety so had in me in at counselling. I would tell them what I would see, but to no avail could they help me but neither did mum believe me. So I was stuck, forced to deal with this girl who terrified the absolute crap out of me.

Maybe if I had of told them of the troubles at home that they could help, but I often felt embarrassed even thinking about telling them, but I also felt like what I was dealing with at home was partially normal because I didn’t know any different. Eventually I started to come out of my shell in later times but mum didn’t like it, she didn’t like people knowing so I stayed quiet.

Now, while living in this house, I always cared about my mum so when she asked me to make her a coffee or some food I would do so because no one else was around to do it but also because I believed it was the right thing to do, she worked hard at keeping the roof over our head, she did a lot for us; taking us to school and back home, giving birth to me, I never said no to her unless I really didn’t want to do it, to which then she would plead me to by saying “Oh come on, please, you make good coffees”, so off I would go to the kitchen and make her the coffee or food she asked for. I remember one time though, she wanted toast and I really didn’t want to make it, but I did it anyway, she wanted Vegemite toast, so into the kitchen I went, unfortunately for her I burnt the toast, but fortunately for me I used it as a lazy technique to make her think there was Vegemite on it... It worked until she bit into it.. Which she didn’t really have a problem with because I still made her toast. Then at age 11 after my youngest brother was born there came nappy changes and bottle making, I hated it, I just for once wanted to be a kid and do kid things.. But I never stood up to her, I never said no. In between caring for my mum and brothers and sister I was also arguing and physically fighting with my sister, 7 and brother 4 over things like The Playstation, toys and who hit who first. Which then over time became arguments between me and my mum over whether or not I was going to school that day because I never wanted to go.

Every morning I would be yelled at to get out of bed, I never understood why it was so hard for me just to get up, I wanted to go to school, I liked school, but the motivation to go to school just wasn’t there, I guess I didn’t really want to deal with it or anything that awaited me.

I guess all of this was just the beginning because in the next post everything gets ramped up to about a 10.

In the next post I’ll be going through the cycle of my mums boyfriend, learning about sex and masturbation, the big highschool “lie” as people like to call it and so much more.

Make sure to follow my page to keep up to date!

But until then, thanks for reading! ☺️

#mywriting #mydiary #childhood #life experiences #my diary #my writing #family #trauma #emotional #things i wouldnt tell others #abuse #mental abuse #emotional abuse #story of my life

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astoria00 · 5 years

Text

A Sun seeks DAY

Get out of my way Freak!

I wasn’t anywhere near you!’

It’s your fault the deal fell flat.

They didn’t even know about me!’

I never wanted a kid in the first place.

‘Would it make a difference if I was born ‘normal’?

Neo hated waking up from that accursed dream.

Since Roman’s death it constantly plagued her. Her peace of mind seemingly lost forever by his sudden demise…and she only had herself to blame.

If she hadn’t taken Ruby lightly, if she had stayed on top of the ship, she could have stopped her dear friend’s cruel fate.

But she had thought they would be alright…just like always.

There was no way they were in any real danger.

They chose the winning side…

And now Roman was gone forever.

It boggled her how thinking about him still hurt so much.

Time healed all wounds?

What a joke.

Stretching her tense legs a bit, she shivered at the cold creeping up her feet.

This was the last time she let Cinder chose where they would spend the night.

The cave might have been a more…low profile friendly option, but Neo was tired of freezing all the time.

‘Don’t have those fancy powers keeping me warm.’

The short girl had always had some sort of inkling that their new partner was a bit more special than she had let on, but the existence of actual magic just seemed so far removed from reality…and yet she had witnessed it with her very own eyes.

Years before Cinder had graced them with her presence.

Now you listen to me you stupid brat!

You better not come back before you apologize for whatever you did to the Branwen tribe, you hear me?

Shuffling her feet, Neo pulled them to her knees while sitting up, her mismatched eyes blinking through the darkness.

Cinder and her had build some sort of provisional shelter to keep the snow outside and giving them an opportunity to rest…though she couldn’t be too sure if the dark haired girl had actually gotten herself some shut eye.

Speaking of which, where was her sassy companion anyway?

Grimacing at failing to locate her missing attire, she hobbled to the exit winding her thick blanket even tighter around her body.

‘Of course she’s outside.’

Cinder seemed to have trouble to let her guard down enough to sufficiently rest.

It was something Neo observed when they had traveled to Atlas together.

There was some nervous, tense energy around her. One that felt all too familiar to the shorter girl.

A cold shudder ran down her spine, as she pulled the spare blanket they had put up along the entrance to the side and padded outside.

‘COLD!!!’

So maybe running through the snow barefoot hadn’t been such a great idea after all.

But on the other hand, she also had no real motivation to turn back around to get her shoes.

Exhaling loudly, she let her eyes wander over the scenery in her attempt to spot Cinder.

Which appeared not to be as time consuming as she thought.

The dark haired girl hadn’t strayed too far from their secret hideout, lying in a puddle of fresh snow, staring up into the dark, cloudy sky, watching the snowflakes fall.

There was something strangely serene about the picture.

Neo couldn’t help but look at her companion in silent wonder.

She had never seen Cinder so…relaxed…no, that wasn’t the right word.

‘Vulnerable!’

That’s it.

She had never seen her so vulnerable, so raw and open before.

Maybe it was the dim light surrounding them, as the moon was obscured by thick dark clouds, but the short girl couldn’t help but acknowledge how beautiful the other girl actually was.

Even if it was somewhat begrudgingly.

After pondering whether to leave or stay, Neo sat down next to Cinder.

The snow was freezing, even with the blanket around her whole body.

Shivers ran done her spine, as she tried to huddle closer to her companion, finally seeming to get her attention.

“What the-?

Do you have a death wish, girl?

What are you doing out here?”

What is a small girl like you doing in a place like this?

xxxxxxxxxx

The tall boy mustered her with keen interest, his bowler looking oh so funny on his reddish hair.

She must have gotten lost on her way to the Branwen tribe’s current location after all, because that definitely wasn’t how she had envisioned a bandit to look like.

Before she could even try to explain herself though, a red, long and more importantly sharp sword was held to her head, pointing directly to a point between her eyes.

Its owner’s face was hidden behind a…grimm mask of sorts?

Only two crimson orbs glowed dangerously through the two small slits, positioned perfectly over the other person’s eyes.

She swallowed harshly.

This wasn’t good, right?

She should have never sneaked inside this tent!

‘I don’t want to die!’

“Now, now Raven.

Your loyalty and commitment to my safety are honorable, but surely you don’t believe me to be threatened by a mere child, do you?”

Behind the masked girl appeared an older, even more imposing woman, a fur coat hanging around her shoulders, carrying the proud emblem of a lone feather.

‘The leader!’

Now this was bad.

On one hand she found the leader, on the other…

“My apologies, ma’am.”

The sword disappeared from her view and relief washed over her, to be immediately replaced by another wave of anxious tension by the masked girl’s next words.

“Shall I deal with this brat?”

She didn’t like the sound of that.

And if she was being honest, she also didn’t want to find out how the bandit wanted to ‘deal’ with her.

Not daring to move one inch, she stared at the leader in fear.

“She’s just a kid, I’d say we have more pressing topics to talk about than deciding the fate of a poor streetrat.

Just let her go.”

Finally the bowler wearing boy had spoken up, tipping against his hat with a grin.

The leader sighed, when Raven immediately whipped around, almost growling at him.

“I am second in command!

You don’t give me orders!”

The redhead’s grin widened, when he pulled out some keychain, causing the masked girl’s posture to get rigid.

“I don’t know about that, Robin.

Maybe you’re getting soft.”

He dangled the chain in front of her, revealing a photo of four young people, all smiling in the camera. One looked oddly similar to the masked girl, she thought.

Not that she cared.

She just wanted to get out of this alive.

Before Raven could retort anything, the leader stepped forward, banging her hand against the table with a loud, thud, splintering the wood and causing both of the other bandits to snap to attention.

“ENOUGH!”

Fixing the masked girl with a pointed stare, she ripped the keychain out of the bowler wearing boy’s hand, her voice lowering dangerously.

“We will talk about this at a later time, do you understand, Raven?”

Nodding wordlessly, Raven didn’t make a sound. Just her clenched fists indicated how furious she must have been right now.

“Good, and Roman”, her attention now solely laid on the redhead, “the answer is no!

I will not approve of segregation!

We are bandits, not organized crime lords.”

“But think about-“

“Not another word!

I gave you a home when nobody wanted you. I taught you everything you know.

Without me, you would be nothing.

Is that the extent of your gratefulness?”

The boy lowered his head and it was in that moment that she decided to bolt.

Running and crawling as fast as she could back into the air ventilation system, only managing to catch the muffled cry of what she presumed to be Raven and the cold voice of her leader.

“Let her go.

I won’t waste resources on catching a little brat that is of no use to us.

She hasn’t heard anything that could do us harm.”

And still…she couldn’t stop running.

Tears streamed down her face, as she realized just how narrowly she escaped death.

A death her father had gladly sent her to…

‘Oh no!’

Her father!

…he wouldn’t be pleased when she reported that she hadn’t been able to change the Branwen tribe’s mind after all.

The cold evening wind that greeted her once she finally submerged to the surface again made her want to huddle down.

It was so cold…

She was so tired…

She stopped completely and leaned against the wall, searching for a place to rest a bit.

Hobbling into an alleyway she ducked next to a trash container to shield herself from the freezing breeze.

She didn’t know how long she stayed there, only that she couldn’t seem to stop crying.

‘Mommy…why did you leave me?’

Because she was a freak.

Wasn’t that what her father told her all the time?

No one wanted a mute child.

“Well, hello there Neopolitan.

You look practically frozen.”

Startled she looked up, her eyes widening in shock.

It was Roman, the bowler wearing bandit.

She had expected dread to settle in again, but surprisingly she wasn’t as afraid as she thought she would be.

The redhead only smiled, offering his hand to her, almost as if he knew who she was…

But that couldn’t be true…right?

“Let’s get you home and warm you up.”

xxxxxxxxxx

“-warm you up?”

‘Huh?’

Neo blinked owlishly at the person now perched at her side.

Cinder seemed to have sat up, squinting at her incredulously.

She must have missed the question.

Cocking her head, she shrugged clueless, causing the dark haired girl to sigh exasperated.

“I asked if you want me to warm you up.”

Just as she was reminded of it, the cold returned full front, making her shiver noticeably under her blanket, offering a small nod to Cinder, who rolled her eye and simply held out her hand for Neo to grab on.

A pang of sadness washed over her.

There were times when missing Roman was bearable…and then there were times she wished she could scream her pain out to the world.

When she wanted to find someone she could blame it on.

Cinder had been on the receiving end of it as well.

Her feelings for her companion were a jumbled mess.

She hated Cinder!

And the worst was, the dark haired girl hadn’t even known why until recently.

Obsessing over getting her revenge on her had kept her going.

It had been the only thing driving her…

‘Roman’s dead and you left me!’

And yet…

Warmth spread through her hand as it entwined itself with Cinder’s.

…she couldn’t help but want to keep being around her.

There was this admiration she had for the other girl.

The way her face would light up for the most ridiculous thing she deemed useful to her.

Her cunningness, her over the top attempts to sound like a crime lord…

…her golden like, gorgeous eye…

‘…huh?’

Where did that come from?

Giving Cinder a grateful smile she wrote in the snow before them.

/Do you ever sleep?/

The dark haired girl’s expression soured, her voice changing, adapting the short girl’s favorite uppity tone.

“I don’t need sleep.

I am perfectly capable of reserving my energy.”

Something cracked behind them in the distance, possibly a tree submitting to the heavy snow piled on top of it, but whatever it was, it made Cinder flinch noticeably.

‘…are you afraid?’

That would probably be a bad thing to ask, though she doubted Cinder would ever be able to find some rest like this, seeing how high on alert she appeared to be.

It was time to change the game.

/Read me a story./

Her companion positively gaped at her.

“Excuse me…what?”

Pointing at the snow again the short girl wrote it out even more carefully, skillfully hiding her gleeful smile.

/READ ME A STORY!/

Cinder appeared at a loss for words, she was positively rattled.

It seemed to cost her immense willpower not to react to the fact that Neo had practically ordered her to do it, as she breathed in deeply.

Finding her voice again, she tried to compose herself.

“If you hadn’t noticed, we are right out of books.”

‘You don’t say.’

The short girl shrugged.

/Guess you have to make one up then./

Not even waiting for Cinder’s response Neo lied down on the snow, staring up at the dark sky, just as her companion had done before her.

Befuddled Cinder stared at her, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment, as she realized Neo would probably continue to bug her to comply with her wish…

The shorter girl’s grip on her hand tightened a bit when she tried to pull her hand away.

Neo wouldn’t let her get out of this.

With a silent curse, Cinder surrendered and rolled on her back, glaring at the clouds.

“Do I really have to?”

A quick squeeze was the only affirmation she got.

Clicking her tongue in annoyance, the dark haired girl began to search for words.

“Fine…

Ahem, once upon a time there was…a dragon.

He was strong and feared…and powerful.

One day he encountered a little girl who was shackled by a cruel fate and he saw the potential inside her, so he took her with him…”

‘You have a nice voice.’

She really meant it. It was incredibly pleasant to listen to. So much so, that Neo had to be careful not fall asleep.

Not yet at least.

So she listened to the tale her companion spun, full of monsters and magic, thieves and wizards and, most importantly, dragons.

The sky began to tint its colors, chasing the endless dark of the night away as it slowly began to dawn…and Cinder’s voice abruptly stopped.

Turning her head she saw that the dark haired girl’s eye was closed, her breathing even and slow.

‘Finally!’

It had been so hard to not simply drift off, but now that she had managed to get Cinder her much needed rest, she felt herself fade away as well.

Robbing closer to her companion’s sleeping form she cuddled against her.

Yes, Cinder would probably never allow them being this close to each other after she stabbed her, but Neo couldn’t stand the thought to wake up alone and cold again.

‘Good night, Cinder.’

In hindsight, it probably had been a bad idea to fall asleep outside of their camp.

AN: Hello again ^^

Time for Day Two I guess…I’m probably not finishing until Spicecreamweek is

Over, but I’ll still do all the prompts.

Enjoy ^^

#cinder fall #neo rwby #spicecreamweek #rwby #fanfiction #rwby fanfiction #roman torchwick #down time #spicecream

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nexstrik · 5 years

Text

Adora Kisses (almost) Every Girl

A/N: A series of unrelated ficlets where Adora kisses (almost) every girl in She-Ra. Some platonic, others decidedly less so. Adora Kisses: Catra, Mermista, Lonnie, Glimmer, Entrapta, Perfuma, Scorpia, Razz, Angella, Frosta, Shadow Weaver, Netossa + Spinnerella, Castaspella.

You can also read it here on my AO3!

Catra

Years later she wondered why Catra never hid it from her. The chances Adora would've snitched were high, and there was no way Catra didn't hear her footsteps in the hall, or recognize it when Adora slipped into the barracks for a nap. She lay on their bed, chin in her hands and her tail waving lazily, all her focus on something in front of her.

Adora was accustomed to being ignored by Catra. They spent too many years together to always need to fill the silence. The only greeting she got was a flicker of her ears, and so Adora didn't see the book until she slipped into their bed and curled around Catra, face in her hair.

"Hey, Adora," Catra said, distracted even as she nuzzled their cheeks together.

"Whatcha doing?" Adora was already close to passing out. Last night she'd gotten very little sleep, and today her chore list was blessedly small. No one would mind if she got some quiet time, away from the others.

"Reading."

Adora sat up a little bit. It was unusual for Catra to study anything, even if her status next to Adora was on the line. Curious to see what had Catra focused for once, she checked out the book and frowned. It wasn't immediately familiar to her, and she always knew when the library had a new book. It was important for a Force Captain-in-training to be familiar with all manuals and instructional texts. "About what?"

A low rumble of frustration built up in Catra's throat. "I don't know. It's got a lot of illustrations but they don't explain much."

Sliding the book over to Adora, Catra wrapped her arms around the other girl's waist. She rested her head in the crook of Adora's neck. "Read it to me."

Not an unusual request. It was an open secret in the ranks that Catra had difficulty reading. It wasn't that she was stupid, she insisted, it was something about how the letters were spaced together. They got all jumbled up. She would stammer when asked to read aloud, consistently flipped her d's and p's.

But this wasn't like any book either of them had ever seen.

"Once upon a time," Adora started, then frowned. What did that mean? She read it again to see if maybe she'd messed up. "Once upon a time there was a girl named Snow White."

Frowning even deeper, Adora flipped to the back of the book to get the identification code. If she could figure out what subject the book was in, that might give her useful context. But there wasn't one.

"Catra, there isn't an ID number anywhere on this thing. You got a broken book." A realization scooped out her insides and replaced them with something cold. "Or contraband."

All books were organized by usefulness and subject. Anything that didn't, meant it hadn't gone through the rigorous publishing standards of the Horde, and might even be illicit literature propagated by rebels and maladapts. If anyone caught her with this, it might cost Adora her promotion.

Catra's ears flicked straight up, quivering with excitement. "Whoa, really? Now I gotta read it!"

"Where did you find this?" Adora demanded, certain now that this was illegally published drivel and not a proper book.

Arching backwards, Adora kept the book at arm's length. Catra threatened to clamber over her shoulder, black claws wriggled eagerly, grasping for it. "I found it in Kyle's bunk, okay? Now gimme!"

Adora pushed Catra's face away with the heel of her palm. "I'm putting this in the incinerator where it belongs."

Catra slumped weakly against her. "Adorrraaaaaa. You never let me do anything fun. Aren't you the least bit curious about what's in an illegal book?"

Falling quiet, Adora found she couldn't respond in any way that wasn't an outright lie. "It's just a lot of pictures of animals and princesses." She snarled the last words, flipping through the book again. "It doesn't even tell you how to build anything."

"If it's about princesses...." Catra's eyes rolled, as if searching the room for something she could utilize. "Mayyyyybeeee it was written by a princess?" She latched onto the sentiment, voice firming up with certainty. "We could get inside the enemy mind!"

Trust Catra to know just how to spin things. Adora decided she would read it first and discern if there was anything useful to glean from the material. But as she quickly tore through the scant text, she realized it was worse than useless.

It was boring.

"Adora? Hey, Adora?" Catra was prodding her now, demanding Adora's attention. "What's it say? What is it about?"

"It isn't about anything," Adora said, and read the whole book to Catra. It didn't take long at all. "It's a fable, I think. But it doesn't teach anything."

"Ummm. It totally does. Come on, Adora, you're not that stupid." Catra grabbed the book, frowning. She cuddled against Adora again, her back to the other girl's chest so Adora could rest her chin on Catra's shoulder. "It teaches you not to trust weirdos giving you gifts for no reason. If Snow White hadn't taken the apple, she wouldn't be in so much trouble."

Shrugging, Catra tossed the book onto Lonnie's bunk. "Duh-doy."

Adora wasn't convinced. "Why make a whole book about that?"

"Who cares?" Then she turned around in the circle of Adora's arms and held onto her, tail flicking quick and fast. "Pet me."

Rolling her eyes, Adora indulged in her demands. Catra purred loudly, rubbing her head harder against Adora's palms when she needed more pressure in a certain spot. Even though she insisted she never took naps, Catra always fell asleep eventually when Adora had her hands on her ears.

A gentle rumble in her chest accompanied Catra's every sleeping breath while Adora remained awake, her mind racing. Despite its simplicity, something about Snow White latched onto her imagination.

Maybe there was a cypher in the text, a secret code known only to rebels. Or maybe it was a spellbook. Maybe there was dark power in the words, hidden by the story of an orphan girl running away from her cruel master, the secrets she found in the woods. Maybe it was a metaphor for something else. Maybe it was the ramblings of a drug-addled artist, someone who got a kick out of making books that didn't follow the rules.

Catra's mouth on her neck brought her thoughts back to the present. When they were both little girls, Catra had gone through a painful teething period. More often than not, she used Adora's ankles or wrists for relief. These days, Catra only ever did it at night, some base feline instinct taking over. It was a bad habit that never fully went away.

"Psst." Adora nudged her. "Catra. You're sleep-nibbling again. Knock it off."

Catra did, mumbling something unintelligible as she rolled onto her back. Even though she'd been exhausted just a moment ago, Adora stayed awake a while longer to watch her bunkmate.

And they lived happily ever after.

The words kept circling her skull, wrapping tighter and tighter.

Something about that book made her feel the way she always did when she was close to Catra.

Adora propped herself up on one elbow, concerned now for Catra's safety, wondering if she'd done something to hurt her without realizing it by exposing her to that book. She hesitated. Maybe there was subliminal messaging in the fable after all, a secret only she could unlock. So she leaned down further, pressing her lips against Catra's in a kiss.

Nothing happened.

Disappointed, Adora laid down next to her and tried to get some sleep. Clearly all-nighters were no good for her. They filled her with fanciful thoughts.

She stayed close to Catra, their legs linked together and their arms nothing but a tangle. One finger curled around a lock of her coarse hair, her face pressed against Catra's skin, breathing her in. The way they always slept, when they shared a bunk. The way things were when they were still knit together tighter than steel chains, when she didn't know where she ended and Catra began.

Adora never kissed her again.

Lonnie

No one else noticed. Maybe someone with a better nose would have smelled it.

But Adora was always sharp-eyed. She saw the speck of blood on the floor and tracked it like a hound on the hunt. When she threw open the supply closet and flicked on the lights, it was with a sense of triumph at what she discovered.

Lonnie scrambled to hide it, to put away the bandages and the medicine, but Adora was soon on one knee, joining her on the floor.

"When did this happen?" she asked, setting a careful hand over Lonnie's bare thigh. A nasty cut drew a jagged spike up her dark skin, and Adora hissed in sympathy. "I'll get disinfectant."

Lonnie bull-dozed right past indignation at being caught, right into frustration. "I'm already applying disinfectant. Don't baby me."

She didn't have time to soothe Lonnie's feelings, which were often more fragile than she let on. "Does it hurt?" Adora asked. "I have some leftover painkillers from when they took that shrapnel out of my arm."

"It doesn't hurt," Lonnie said.

Raising an eyebrow, Adora responded by sinking her fingers into tender flesh. Lonnie bit her lower lip, a tremble working its way through her body.

And finally, a low, desperate whimper.

"I won't tell anyone." Adora reassured her, cupping Lonnie's face in one hand. That was always how affection worked between them, between everyone in their squad. Everything colored with cruelty, with pain. Otherwise, how could you trust it to be true? "Stay here."

It wasn't like she could go anywhere else. She left Lonnie in the supply closet and flew down the hallways, returning shortly with the painkillers. When she settled down next to Lonnie, she saw the other girl had already dressed the wound. Adora handed her an ice pack, a canteen, the painkillers, and then threw a blanket over the both of them and cuddled her.

She kept Lonnie's arm over her. One palm was pressed to Lonnie's hand, keeping the ice pack in place to reduce any swelling.

"What do you want from me?" Lonnie said after a while.

"Be nicer to Catra," Adora responded, and then kissed her cheek. "Please?"

The other girl shifted. Then she sighed. "Anything else?"

Adora kissed her again, tilting her head so that their lips met. "Be nicer to me."

Then she bit her, just hard enough to maintain pecking order, just to let her know it was sincere. Lonnie inhaled sharply, then kissed her back, one palm on the back of Adora's skull.

"...No promises."

Glimmer

There was a part of her that would always be different. The Horde took years from her life, stripped her willpower down until she didn't know what a healthy boundary looked like, much less how to establish one. There was no privacy, no secrets allowed, no personal space, nothing that could establish personhood.

Still, she should have known better than to stroke her fingers down Glimmer's naked back.

"Have I ever mentioned how pretty these are?" she said, tracing the shape of wings on each shoulder blade. Everything about Glimmer was pretty, from the way she spoke to the way she shone in the darkness, bright, glimmering like gemstones were embedded into every inch of her golden skin. "Are they tattoos? Or were you born with them?"

Glimmer didn't respond at first, standing there with her towel in hand. Her hair dripped, heavy and dark after a bath. Only clad in shorts; Adora wondered if it ever made her feel vulnerable. They'd been naked together before and neither of them had minded.

"Wh-when did you get in here?" Glimmer said, still standing with her back to Adora.

"I've been waiting in here?" Adora withdrew, glancing away. "You're dripping."

"Uh. Yeah. Thanks." Glimmer threw on a robe, towelling her hair dry. She refused to look at Adora. It slowly dawned on her that she'd done something wrong, but Glimmer wasn't going to admit it to spare her feelings.

Sighing in frustration, Adora averted her gaze. She hated playing this particular guessing game. "Should I not be in here without permission?"

That snapped Glimmer out of it, somewhat. Distress colored her voice as she quickly reassured Adora. "You can come into my room whenever you like! Sorry if I'm acting weird, you just surprised me."

She winced. Adora knew she could be quiet. It came from years of navigating the Fright Zone after-dark, when she should have been in her room. Being where she oughtn't, getting punished if she was caught. It made you careful what noises your feet made, what with how every lesson was literally beaten into her. Not even She-Ra's powers could heal scar tissue.

"Sorrryyyy," she sang, lifting one foot to point at the sole of her boot. "Got ghost feet."

"And ghost hands," Glimmer agreed, under her breath. Then she swung right back to normal, smiling brightly at Adora. "So what's up?"

Speaking of marks on her skin. Adora grimaced, pulling at her collar to show Glimmer what was wrong.

The smile dropped from Glimmer's face. "It's acting up again."

Adora nodded, then undid her jacket. She turned around, pulling her shirt over her head. Besides the scars of her childhood, a more recent development was causing the squad to worry about their friend.

It had been a careless mistake. Ever since the catastrophe that had broken the Black Garnet Runestone, she'd spearheaded recovery missions to try and fix what she had shattered. Reports had come in that there were Horde forces gathering near a large deposit, and so She-Ra had gone ahead of the advance party. It was a trap, and she'd gotten too close to shattered fragments of the Black Garnet, and ever since then...

Lightning forked down her skin, angry-red like something had slapped it onto her. Tree-like branches strained against her skin, every nerve and blood vessel mapped out and glowing faintly red.

Always breaking things, she thought. Everywhere you go. Always leaving it shattered behind you.

Glimmer confirmed her fears. "It's definitely getting worse." This time Glimmer was the one touching her, though not with appreciation. Pressing her palms flat against Adora's back, Glimmer stepped closer. Her forehead was a comforting pressure right on the center of her back. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there, Adora."

"I don't feel sick." Adora wanted to protest, mainly because she didn't want her friend to worry or feel guilty for something that wasn't her fault. "I just wish I knew what it means when my body starts flaring up like this."

Glimmer pulled back, but Adora could sense she hadn't retreated far. "What'd my mom have to say?"

"Queen Angella said it might be best to call upon Mystacor's sages for aid."

Adora could hear Glimmer wince. "My mom? Willingly working together with my aunt? This must be more serious than I thought."

"Mmm." Adora covered her stomach with both hands, smiling weakly. "Just what I wanted to hear. Love having weird Runestone etchings on my skin! It's just so great."

Then Glimmer's voice dropped down to a tease. "At least they look pretty sick."

Adora huffed with laughter. "Oh?"

"Yeah." Warmth again, over Adora's hip. There was a splash of black ink there, a messy coverup of her old Horde tattoo. Now it meant nothing at all. "You look dangerous."

Adora flexed, unable to resist. Especially when a mapwork of red veins pulsed up her arm with every idle movement. "These guns are pretty lethal." Forcing a straight face, she looked at Glimmer over her shoulder with concern in her voice. "And completely unregulated, so probably a safety hazard for the operator."

Glimmer tugged on her ponytail. "Dummy."

A moment of hesitation. Then Glimmer's fingers went down the nape of her neck, where Adora knew for a fact there were no marks. The fresh buzz of her haircut made it all the more sensitive, and she found herself wanting to rub against Glimmer like a cat.

She went lower, echoing what Adora had done to her moments before. A light stroke on either shoulder, tracing the outline of wings. When Glimmer touched her again, without reason, without inspecting the marks, a shiver went up her spine.

Belatedly, Adora realized her mistake. She must have made Glimmer feel like this. "Sorry for touching you earlier without permission."

The careful exploration halted.

"...You don't need permission to touch me, Adora."

So she turned around, curious and completely unselfconscious. It didn't matter to her that she was still bare from the waist up, though she felt maybe it ought to. Reaching out, she thumbed against a stray water droplet on Glimmer's cheek. "Good."

Then she squished Glimmer's face in between two palms.

"Because I can't get enough of your cute, round face!" She pulled and pinched, sighing in satisfaction. "Ugh, I just want to play with it all the time."

Glimmer waved her arms frantically, trying to escape as Adora pulled her closer with a squeal. "Adora!"

An eruption of sparkles filled Adora's palms. Reappearing on her bed, Glimmer peered at Adora angrily over the edge of the mattress like a small, angry bird hiding in her nest.

Adora set one foot on the first step up to Glimmer's bed, grinning up at her. "Aw, Glimmer. Don't be mad." An exhale of exertion left her as she leapt up to the second step. "It doesn't mean I don't also think of you as a fierce and powerful commander!"

"Okay, well, that wasn't the kind of touching I meant!"

A pillow hurtled towards her. Adora ducked, windmilling her arms to keep her balance as she flipped onto the third step. "Then what kind of touching did you mean?"

With another leap, she grabbed the edge of Glimmer's bed. Hanging off the frame, she let the whole thing swing slightly, peeking up at Glimmer with a smile in her eyes. Glimmer was sprawled out, arms wide and palms braced against the mattress as it swung from side to side.

Adora reached in, one palm cupping Glimmer's calf. Her left arm burned with the effort of holding all her body weight, but these days She-Ra's strength was as easy to tap into as her own. And it was worth it to touch Glimmer. Everything about her was soft, her skin silky and unmarred, so unlike Adora. Her touch shifted down, gripping Glimmer by the ankle as she rubbed her thumb in circles over the dome of her talus.

(Complete knowledge of physiology and anatomy was a useful skill to have, especially when you were mostly interested in breaking bones.)

"Get up here and find out," Glimmer breathed.

Perking up, Adora clambered the rest of the way inside Glimmer's bed. The princess was still off-balance, half-sitting up. Her lips pressed tightly together, every stray beam of moonlight making her shimmer in the dark. Both hands went up to her neck, unfastening her robe and pulling it off. Then they were equal again, naked from the waist up.

It wasn't anything Adora hadn't seen before, but that didn't mean she ever got tired of it. Then she remembered Glimmer evidently wanted to be touched, not looked at, so Adora crawled closer until she was sitting on top of her.

She took Glimmer's face between her hands again, but not as roughly as before.

Still. "Squish," she sang, gripping Glimmer's ears in between her knuckles and rubbing them like coins, for good luck.

"Oh, come on!" Glimmer complained.

Adora squished her cheeks again. "I'm getting to it."

Glimmer's face burned red-hot under her fingertips as she petted and stroked over her cheeks, her brows, the ridge of her nose. Then she sank her fingers deep into Glimmer's thick hair, massaging her scalp until the other girl let out a pleased groan.

"Adora," she said, covering Adora's hands with her own, eyes closing. "I- I love you."

Adora stopped, the back of her index finger brushing over the swell of Glimmer's lower lip.

"I love you too, Glimmer," she said, an unexpected ache growing inside of her at the admission. They'd said it hundreds of times before, and each time carved at her like a knife, leaving joy instead of pain. "I wish you knew how much I loved you."

She pulled Adora closer. Adora barely had time to register the shock of pleasure that blew through her at the sensation of skin against skin. She would have been entranced just by the pounding of Glimmer's heart under her ribcage, but then Glimmer kissed her, winding both arms around Adora until they were locked tightly together.

Adora rose up with a gasp, bracing herself above Glimmer. "Oh!" she said, breathing heavily. "That kind of touching. Okay. You could have just said so."

"Adora?!" Glimmer sounded panicked, now, and Adora was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the kiss. "Wait, time out. Are you okay? You got all glowy!"

They both sat up. Adora looked down at herself to see her veins had lit up again, the lightning bolts curling and twisting down her sternum. "Huh," she said, examining the mapwork of black and red pulsing down her forearms. "Weird, but not painful, so I'm not too worried."

Glimmer dragged her hands down her face in distress. "You are way too casual about this."

"I dunno. I guess I figure at this point we've been through worse, and I'm all out of energy to be freaking out anymore." Adora glanced up, brow cocked. "Besides, you're shiny too."

Like shimmering stardust, all over her body. "Well I'm supposed to look like that."

"Oh yeah?" Adora grinned, head tilted to the side. "Does anything ever turn it off?"

"Maybe. A girl can't reveal all her secrets at once."

So Adora tackled her down to the mattress, kissing her all over her face. The chain holding up her bed groaned in protest, swinging from side to side as the sound of giggling filled the room.

Entrapta

When the world spun, when the complexities of people and their lies and the webs of relationships and society threatened to cut her circulation, when Adora just needed something that had clear cut answers, she liked to fix things. The Fright Zone had no shortage of damaged vehicles in need of repair. Even if it was beneath her station as a Force Captain, no one ever dared question her.

And it helped in the war effort.

Sweat trickled down her forehead, her arms straining from the effort of keeping still. Steady, she had to remain steady as she plugged in the electric engine to the delicate steering machinery.

Steady.

Steady...

"Force Captain Adora!"

Adora yelped, shocking herself and banging her head against the hood of the transport at the same time. Sucking on her fingertips, Adora pulled out of the vehicle to glare at Princess Entrapta.

Shadow Weaver insisted that the princess didn't get any special treatment, but that clearly wasn't the case. Even if she was useful, even if she single-handedly raised the standard for all machinery in the Fright Zone, even if she was... oddly friendly, Adora wasn't sure she was worth the stress of her rescue.

Catra, Scorpia, and Adora had been stuck in that labyrinth for weeks trying to steal the princess.

I guess it didn't hurt that she turned out to be a willing captive .

All they had to do was give her a bit of scrap and access to their tools and she'd gone nuts. The conflict between their lands didn't even seem to phase her, when she could be bothered to remember it at all. Catra of course took wicked delight in corrupting a princess, and spent a good amount of time shadowing Entrapta wherever she went, studying her carefully. Meanwhile, Adora couldn't help but be slightly disgusted that someone could exist without any guiding principles at all, no allegiances or loyalty at all, floating through the world without a single thought in her head that didn't service herself and her amusement.

"Can I help you?" Adora muttered, slamming the hood shut. She turned around, leaned against it with her arms crossed, and regarded Entrapta with nothing but cool indifference. "...Princess?"

"Yes, actually," she said. The princess pushed herself off the ground a few inches, closing the distance between them so they could speak at eye-level. "It's regarding a fascinating social experiment I've observed among the ranks!"

"Uh-huh."

Entrapta spun around her, a measuring tape emerging from one of her many tool belts. She stretched it this way and that, studying Adora carefully. "And, well, it seems to center around you, Force Captain!"

Curiosity took ahold of her, despite herself. Her frame relaxed slightly, and Adora nodded for Entrapta to continue. "Yeah?"

"Yes, there's been a circulation, a rotation, you might say, of certain Horde members and their romantic relationship with you!" Entrapta lifted herself even higher, starting to shout with excitement. "I was wondering if there was maybe like a code you guys were following or maybe if it was going by lunar cycles, I keep trying to find a pattern but there's no rhyme or reason to— mmmhmhpph!"

Adora grabbed the princess by the mouth, shushing her and bringing her back down to ground level in one motion. "Be quiet!" Adora said, her cheeks heating up. "Who I'm dating is none of your business. Okay?"

A short pause. Then Entrapta nodded, pulling Adora's hand down with her hair. "But I was wondering if I could join in?"

Taken aback, Adora let her hands drop to her side. "What?"

Again Entrapta loomed in, invading her personal space. "I enjoy the seemingly casual and noncommitted nature of Horde relationships," Entrapta said. "It looks less complicated than what the other princesses get up to!" Her head rolled back as she loudly lamented. "Soooo much drama."

"I bet," Adora muttered. Then, a beat. "Wait, is this a prank?"

She shook her head. "Prank? No! I want to engage in an experiment with a willing participant, and you especially are unattached at this point in time and unlikely to become emotionally dependent on me, given your history!"

"...Thanks."

Entrapta beamed. "You're welcome! Shall we engage with a kiss, just to start?" A notepad and a pencil appeared in her hand, notation beginning already. "I also appreciate a gift from time to time of useful or necessary mechanical components."

"You can't demand someone give you gifts just because you're dating," Adora started, already offended. "Also, I didn't say I would be your girlfriend!"

"Oh." Entrapta sank down again, this time without Adora's help. "Oh, of course. Right." Her mask went down, red gaze focusing on her shoes. "Sorry. I just got excited by the prospect, I didn't fully plan this through."

Deep inside her, past all the barriers she put up over the years to protect herself, Adora's heart twinged. She fought it. She really did. But in the end she had a hard time being mad at someone who had never really tried to hurt anyone.

Am I seriously letting someone guilt trip me into a relationship?

Adora shook her head to clear it, rubbing her palm against her forehead. "If you just want gifts and kisses, you don't have to date me." Uncomfortable now, Adora crossed her arms and looked away. "Honestly, I can just...give you those things. If you really wanted them. As a friend."

"Really?" Entrapta gasped, her hair pushing her mask up as she clasped her real hands together in joy. "Would you really be my friend? I've never had one of those either so this whole encounter is turning out to be an absolute net-positive for me!"

"Sure." It wouldn't be hard to requisition anything Entrapta needed. As Force Captain she could sign it away as being necessary for the war effort. And as for the rest... she glanced around quickly, finding the hangar bay mostly empty. Then Adora sighed, rolled her eyes, and pulled Entrapta close.

It was not entirely chaste. They pulled apart with a soft wet sound, and Adora lingered close, and she wasn't sure why. Entrapta's breath on her lips felt better than it had any right to.

"Was that good?" she asked softly.

"Oh, that was excellent," Entrapta said, breath hitching. A dozen hands, both real and conjured, coiled around Adora's every limb. Gentle, yet demanding. "But just to be sure, I'm going to need to run a few more trials.”

Mermista

Slowly, a trickle of boats returned to Salineas. It took time for word to spread out that the Sea Gate had been repaired, and time on top of that for the inbound voyages of the city's scattered people. Adora couldn't be more proud, standing next to Mermista on the docks as they surveyed the reconstruction.

The loud chatter of many languages, port-patois, hammers and saws, the clatter of iron-shells harvested from the bottom of the bay, construction and decoration. There were children. Adora didn't realize how much she missed the sound of happy children until there weren't any.

Most of her friends didn't share the sentiment. Of course, she didn't like handling children. She just liked knowing they were around. She liked the steady undercurrent of noise that only peace in wartime brought.

"Anyway," the princess of Salineas said, "I'm bored. Do you wanna makeout, or something?"

Hearing another unfamiliar word always put Adora off-kilter. The people of Etheria were always throwing around terms and ideas and concepts completely alien to her. What was worse was how the same concept could mean any number of radically different things from kingdom to kingdom.

There were few things she missed about the Horde. One of them was order. Enforced through cruelty, always, but at least it was predictable cruelty.

"Uh, sure," Adora said, one arm across her waist in an instinctive, defensive fidget. She glanced around the port again, then down at the wood underneath her feet. It must be some kind of Salineas tradition. Probably fun, if Mermista was suggesting it, even if she pretended she didn't want to do it. "Why don't you go first?"

Mermista rested her cheek on one fist, staring at Adora with flat irritation. Immediately, Adora knew she had said the wrong thing, had once again been caught flagrantly displaying all the gaps in her knowledge of social norms.

"It's not the kind of thing you take turns doing," Mermista said after a while. "Ughhhh, you're so depressing."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Adora muttered.

"Tch. Whatever." Mermista's eyes darted aside, back towards the sea. "It's not like I really wanted to do it or anything. I'm not gonna kiss someone who still needs to keep the training wheels on."

Training wheels! Finally, a term she understood, at least through context clues. Something about being unable to operate certain vehicles unassisted or without safeguards. Clearly it was being used as a metaphor in this situation... unless Mermista was offering to take her on a voyage in one of her skiffs. Adora thought she might actually enjoy that very much.

She was about to say so, until the rest of the sentence went through her filters, coming back with a red alert:

"Wait," Adora said. "Kiss? You want to kiss me? Why?"

To her surprise, the tips of Mermista's ears turned ruddy. "Drop it. I already told you, I changed my mind. You don't know left from right, it'd be like making out with a toddler."

There was that phrase again, making out. Adora wished the people of Etheria would speak plainly for once. "I know how to kiss people," she grumbled, rubbing her arm.

"Okay," Mermista said. "And?"

"And I just don't like people pretending I'm totally ignorant."

"So prove me wrong," Mermista said.

Adora mentally cursed herself. Then, before she lost her nerve, she yanked Mermista closer, scrunched up her face, and kissed her on the cheek.

"See?" she said upon drawing away, aware that they were both scarlet-faced now.

"Ohhhhh," Mermista said, both hands covering her eyes. "It's even worse than I thought. You don't know anything."

"Wh- I know things!" Adora sputtered as the princess shook her head and walked away. "Hey! Wait! Mermista! I know things!"

Perfuma

"I'm glad you were able to see Plumeria in her full glory."

Adora was glad, too. She rested her head on Perfuma's lap, the sword of She-Ra held in her open fist. Occasionally she glanced over at it, just to reassure herself it was still there. But as time went on, she worried less, and less, and less...

Adora's head tingled as Perfuma strokes her nails through her hair. It felt so good to be touched, especially now, without the edge of cruelty lining over every action she took.

She tilted her head back a bit, staring up at Perfuma with wide eyes. The princess smiled down at her, fond and faint. "You're so pretty, Perfuma."

It should have bothered her. She didn't mean to say that out loud. The thought kept crowding her head, though, from day one, and suddenly it didn't feel so important to let it stay inside her head. Now it was outside, and Adora was lighter, and free.

Perfuma bit back a smile. "Oh?"

Solemnly, Adora nodded. "I was too nervous to say it before."

"And are you nervous now, sweet pea?"

Fragrant plumes of smoke curled around the room, filling her with tranquility. Her whole body tingled in pleasure when Perfuma raked her nails through blonde tresses again. "I'm always nervous."

Hit by the absurdity of that, Adora started giggling, and then Perfuma started giggling, and they were both sprawled out in her tent, laughing like a pair of fools. The back of Adora's hand brushed against Perfuma's stomach. Perfuma laced their fingers together. Then Adora was inching closer, kissing her cheek. And then her forehead. And then Perfuma's lips.

She was so sweet, so giving, so gentle, so willing. Adora's mouth opened to the kiss, lazy and indulgent. They coiled together on the floor, the temperature in the room rising alongside the burning embers in the corner, billowing out bright yellow and purple tendrils with whatever magic made Adora feel so relaxed.

Perfuma had to break the kiss first, reluctantly, her face flushed with desire. "We probably shouldn't go too far," she said, toying with a lock of Adora's hair. "Not while you're like this."

"Go too far where?" Adora mumbled back, reaching for her again.

Laughing, Perfuma pushed her hands away. "Yyyyup. I think that's a cause for a break." She turned a complaining Adora in her arms until they were spooned comfortably together. And that was good, so Adora settled down. Especially when Perfuma started touching her hair again, pulling it free of the ponytail so she could comb it. "Who'd've thought the legendary She-Ra was such a lightweight?"

"I'm a welterweight," Adora said, sounding self-important. "Three year champion in the Horde amateur league."

Perfuma hummed as if she was very impressed. "Ohhh, I see. Well, maybe we can convince Miss Champion to drink some water in a bit?"

Adora thought about it. Then she nodded. "Water sounds good."

A few hours later when Glimmer came to collect her, she was not pleased. While Bow tried to saddle up a completely wasted Adora into her saddle, Glimmer let Perfuma know exactly how many missteps she'd made.

"I'm sorry!" Perfuma said, wringing her hands. "I thought the lowest dosage wouldn't..."

"Save it, Perfuma!" Glimmer clutched her skull, groaning in distress. "Aughh, my mom is gonna have my head if I bring Adora home like this."

"You could always spend the night...?" Perfuma suggested.

"If I'm not home by sunrise she'll flip even harder!"

After a hushed conversation on what might sober Adora up, Glimmer returned to the horses. She could hear Bow speaking soothingly to their friend, his low voice a warm comfort.

"Yup, there you go, Adora. Nice and easy, just hold onto the saddle. I'll be up there soon," he said with a smile, a smile which dropped completely as he turned to Glimmer and hissed, "Dude, she's tripping balls right now."

"I can see that, Bow."

It was a long, woozy trip back home.

Scorpia

"Adora!"

Nestled comfortably in her reading nook by the window, Adora twitched at the familiar crack in Bow's voice. Something was wrong; she was on her feet in an instant, buckling her belt and swinging the sword over her shoulder.

"What is it?" she asked, pausing when she noticed Bow and Glimmer were both fighting to get through her door first to deliver the news.

"It's not an emergency," Glimmer said.

"It kind of is," Bow countered.

"But it's not like a huge deal," Glimmer insisted. "And it's definitely not my fault!"

Bow squished Glimmer back and then stepped into Adora's room, hands outstretched in a plea. "We lost the prisoner!"

A shower of sparkles made Adora flinch back a half-step as Glimmer appeared in front of her. "No, we didn't! We just don't know where she is!"

"The prisoner?" Adora glanced back at the window. "You mean Scorpia? She's fine, I saw her by the lake just a second ago."

The two of them paused. Then they crowded Adora near her window, peering out to confirm what she'd said. Sure enough, there was a vaguely familiar red dot by the shore. She'd been going there the same time every day; it was pretty testament to how lax their supervision was that they only just noticed what started a week ago.

"We can't let her stay outside the palace too long," Bow said, sounding nervous. "Not until... Well I mean things are still so... I mean it's just probably not a good idea!"

"I'll go get her, Adora offered. "You two stay here."

A large outcropping of rock disrupted the river just outside Bright Moon. It looked like the aftermath of some great impact, the echoes of it still felt centuries later. The end result was a small lake, and Scorpia sat on the edge with a wooden rod in hand and what looked like hand-made bait lying next to her. From her vantage point high up in her room, Adora didn't know what Scorpia did out here every day. As she drew closer, she heard Scorpia humming, and the splash of water.

Adora watched, at first. Some small part of her wondered if there was more than met the eye with their captured Force Captain. Maybe she was sending secret messages in bottles down the river to where reinforcements were waiting.

Or maybe she was just fishing.

Adora ensured her feet made noise as she approached, mindful of how quiet she could be.

So Scorpia's head tilted a bit in greeting, though she didn't turn around. "Hi, Adora. It's a nice day for fishing, isn't it?"

Adora sat down next to her. "I wouldn't know. I've never done it."

Now Scorpia finally looked at her, her mouth shaped into a little o of shock. "No way. Really? I used to go all the time with my dad." She flicked her line out, humming in satisfaction as the bait bobbed in the deeper waters. "It's also a nice thing to do alone. Just you and the fishies."

The empty summer sky beat down on them mercilessly, though Scorpia seemed to relish in it. Her joints creaked, looking a little baked, and her fair skin had started to take on a healthy sun-kissed glow. Adora had brought something cool to drink. She offered Scorpia some of her juice.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, unsure if there was a more delicate way to approach this.

Scorpia beamed. "Peachy. Retired life suits me."

"You're not... I mean, it's..." Adora couldn't look at Scorpia any longer, and the sun was winking painfully against the lake water. So she could only stare at her own hands, watch how the corruption of the Black Garnet made her veins glow faintly, even in the daylight. "Despite the fact that I destroyed your Runestone?"

And possibly your whole kingdom?

Scorpia got a bite, or she thought she did. The pole flicked, empty. Those claws were surprisingly quick, as Adora knew from experience. But watching them nimby untangle the fishing line was still fascinating. Scorpia learned from hard experience how to be careful, and even if her claws weren't sharp, they could snap through anything. Even flesh and bone.

She flicked the line out again. "Oh, that. It hadn't belonged to me or my family in a long time. Wasn't really much of a kingdom anymore at that point, either."

A rattle of scales as her tail shifted.

Scorpia sighed. "Every day I woke up over there I thought about breaking that Runestone myself."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm." When Adora dared to look up at her again, Scorpia still had a brilliant smile on her face. "You see an animal dying and in pain long enough, and little piece of you wants to just put it out of its misery. You know?"

She did know.

Scorpia's eyes dropped down to Adora's exposed shoulders, her neck, the back of her palms. The remnants of the Black Garnet left their mark on her, and even now, she still didn't know what would happen to her in the long run.

The line twitched, this time for real. With an excited shout, Scorpia pulled a shining mass of scales out of the upset water. Reeling it in, Scorpia whistled in appreciation. She freed the hook from the fish's mouth, holding it in between her claws. Carefully, just enough so that it couldn't wiggle free.

"A real beauty," Scorpia said. He was beautiful, especially in the sunlight. The fish twisted and turned, and what appeared pure silver actually rippled bright blue, in the right angles. "You wanna hold him?"

Wincing, Adora lifted up one palm. "Uh, no thanks."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Carefully, Scorpia knelt at the water's edge. Then she let the fish go, letting him slip out of her claws and thrash back into the depths.

"You don't keep them?"

"Heh. Nah." Scorpia waved at the waters. "Poor things've got it rough enough what with everything else trying to eat them. I just like looking at them flop around sometimes!"

Scorpia had finished her juice, but Adora's remained mostly untouched. So she nudged her, gesturing for her to finish it off, if she wanted.

Unexpectedly, Scorpia flushed.

"Are you okay?" Adora asked. "I think maybe you should wear a hat if you're going to be out in the sun like this."

"Um." Scorpia mumbled something just under her breath. Adora didn't quite catch it, but it sounded like indirect kiss. Whatever that meant. "No, I'm fine."

Scorpia took the glass, hesitating over it a moment before drinking it down. Then her tail snaked out, pulling an umbrella out from behind the rocks. "I brought this," she explained, propping the umbrella up over them both. "There's enough room for two, if you want to hang around. But I only have one fishing pole so you might get bored."

"I'll be fine." Adora reassured her.

So they stayed together for a while longer, enjoying the silence and the occasional splash of water when Scorpia caught a fish.

"I wish I'd known you sooner," Scorpia said. "Before all of this happened. I wish I'd met you in the Horde. It would've been so nice to have a friend."

Privately, Adora agreed. Even if it would have been frowned upon. Even if Scorpia was a princess, and back then Adora would have loathed her for it. Even if it hadn't stayed a friendship, maybe.

They covered the rules of fraternization within the ranks during Force Captain Orientation, right?

Madame Razz

"Mara, dearie, have I done something to offend you?"

With her arms ladened with more of the clutter Razz kept in her house, Adora took a moment to find her balance.

"Hmm?" she said, focusing mostly on the chipped bowl hanging off her elbow. Springtime had arrived, and of course Razz wanted to clean house. This happened every year, and yet somehow every year there was just as much clutter as the last.

Still, Adora wanted to help. Razz couldn't and shouldn't be lifting heavy objects alone.

Razz's big eyes stared at her, distorted by the lenses of her spectacles. "Why, you never ask old Razz for her blessing anymore," she said, wizened face melting into a frown. "Maybe I've lost your respect in my old age. But that doesn't mean I don't still worry about you."

Even though she had no idea what Razz was talking about, she rolled with it. Half of hanging out with Razz meant practicing her improv game. "Uh, the blessing. Right." Adora deposited all the garbage into a cloth sack just outside the door frame. "I guess I've just been too busy to ask. Can I have a blessing please, ma'am, if you're not too busy?"

The old woman shook with glee, dancing from foot to foot. "Oh, Mara. Of course you can! I'm so happy you asked!"

Gripping her hand tightly, Razz smiled up at her before kissing the back of her palm. There was a spark of light, and warmth. Then Adora wasn't sure what to do, so she awkwardly said, "Thank you, Razz."

"No, no, dearie." Razz had her clutch in both hands now. So small, so thin. Adora could feel her bones right through the flesh. "Thank you. It's a great honor to know someone still wants my blessing after all these years."

"Well, of course I do." Adora reassured her, putting an arm around her shoulder in a brief, fond hug. "Who wouldn't?"

Queen Angella

She swept through the palace of Bright Moon. In the dead of night, with her hood up, she got stopped only once. But she lowered the fabric, eye glinting in the moonlight, and the guards let her pass without another word. Her boots had tread this same path so many times over the decade that she sometimes thought there ought to be a trail left behind, grooves in the marble from the twist of her heel as she went to Queen Angella's chambers.

They were empty, so there was only one other place she could be.

Heroes and villains loomed over her. Adora's steps always slowed in here, cat-quiet, because it was a place of reverence and history. Precious gems and etchings, carved into the walls. She passed her old room, empty for years, and followed faint traces of light until she came around the corner and there Angella was, gazing at her.

Or, an etching of her.

Adora's eye flicked upward, scanning over Adora's likeness from thirty years before. She stepped closer, smiling wryly at the serious expression on Angella's face, the way she pored over the carvings like she was searching for something.

"Come now, Angella," Adora said. She slipped one hand across the small of Angella's back, palm resting under the graceful arch of her wings. "I'm not dead yet."

Centuries of learned composure couldn't erase base instinct. Angella flinched away, only for Adora's hold to tighten and tug her closer until they were chest to chest. "Adora?"

Adora covered those soft pink lips with her own, muffling whatever she was going to say next.

Soft hands wound behind her neck, fingers sinking into the hair at the nape. Angella held her tight, wings flaring out and around them both protectively, like the translucent white feathers could shield them.

"You're a very wicked girl," Angella said when she pulled back with a gasp, nails tracing the lines on Adora's face. Angella was the only person who called her a girl still, but then again, Adora supposed they were all children compared to her.

On the wall, hammered starmetal shone in the shape of She-Ra's sword. Adora caught a glimpse of her reflection in the polished surface, and contrasted herself against that old portrait. The scar tissue that bubbled up around her missing eye, the weatherbeaten face. More silver in her hair than gold. More or less the same height. When she changed into She-Ra she didn't grow much taller, either. That had been an affectation of her youth, her desire to seem larger than life.

Shifting these days was a much less dramatic transition. She'd grown into the mantle of protector, no matter which form she took. And when she shifted back into Adora, she didn't feel quite so much like she was shrinking into something small and weak and less-than. Both sides of her held their charm and their strengths, and Queen Angella had memorized every single one.

"When did you arrive?" Angella demanded. Then she followed Adora's line of sight, to the etching of She-Ra carved into the wall, and her face colored slightly.

"I missed you, too." A single flight feather floated down. Adora caught it between her fingers, making it dance. "If only I had a life-sized likeness of you to cart around with me on my journeys, Your Majesty."

Adora tucked the feather into her pocket, to join the collection in her trunk. She thought eventually she might have enough of them to weave into a pair of wings for herself. A cloak to match the queen for formal events. Unbearably bold, and cheeky. No one would dare question her for it, though, least of all Angella.

Physically, the queen had not changed at all. But Adora's perception of her had. She remembered the queen seemed so adult when they first met, severe and wizened.

Looking at her now, Adora thought Angella seemed desperately young. Barely older than her only daughter. The pressure of ruling weighed on her and it looked heavy, too heavy for her slight frame.

Stepping back from the queen, Adora regarded her own likeness. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, smirking at the image of herself as a youth. That moment, immortalized forever. Angella on her throne, vindicating and blessing Adora. The champion kneeling before Angella, the sword of She-Ra offered in both hands like a sacrifice.

"When you look at this, do you remember me as I am?" she wondered. "Or do you envision the girl I was when I first started courting you?"

Angella's gentle fingers drew Adora's attention away from the portrait and back to her.

"Whether I look upon your face or just a likeness, or when you come to me in dreams, I always see every aspect of you, Adora. Like facets in a gemstone." She traced the lines on Adora's face again, mapping them out, committing them to memory. "And I wonder if I knew then what pain I would force you to endure, if I would still allow you to serve me."

That just made her grin wider. Flaring her cape out dramatically, Adora fell down to one knee. She kept Angella's palm over her cheek a moment longer, then she drew the queen's hands to her lips.

She kissed her delicately, every fingertip, before planting one last kiss on the back of her palm.

"Your Majesty," she said, "I wouldn't change a thing. I'd endure it all a thousand times over if it meant I still earned your heart."

Angella's brow quirked up, her lips flat completely unamused. "You've been reading trashy poetry again, Adora."

Adora lunged, sweeping the queen off her feet so that she was forced to hold onto Adora by the shoulders or lose her balance. "You love it," she declared, and then carried Angella back to her chambers.

The guards knew better than to interrupt them.

Frosta

The two of them observed the melting snow, Adora with fascination and Frosta with resigned satisfaction.

"These glaciers have been forming for centuries," Frosta said, watching them shrink. "The resulting meltwater will flood the lands south of us for miles."

And take out the entire fortress Hordak had set up. Once Mermista got ahold of all that fresh water as well, it would be game over.

"Are you sure about this, Frosta?" Adora asked with concern. "It will take generations to restore the ice again."

"Don't underestimate me," Frosta said. "My line has a long memory. The task will continue on through my descendents and beyond, as I carry on the will of my parents."

As always, hearing such somber declarations from a form so small made her own heart melt like icewater. Unable to help herself, Adora leaned down and kissed her cheek. Frosta glared at her, rubbing the spot with a mitten-clad hand.

"Thank you," Adora said, meaning it. "I won't forget. My descendants won't either. I'll make sure of it."

"Hmm." Frosta waved her aside. "See that they don't."

Shadow Weaver (tw for parental abuse)

"Come here, Adora."

Shadow Weaver extended an arm and Adora ran to her, tucking herself against the woman's side and hugging her tight. A hand rested briefly on top of her head, stroked through her hair and remaining there. It was easy; Adora was barely tall enough to reach her waist.

Above them, the clouds parted as if god had punched a hole through the sky. The endless mire and murk of the Fright Zone vanished for a single radius, allowing the empty sky to shine down on them. Another brief spell fell over them, and in that space, the flickering image of star patterns imposed itself over the clear sky.

"Remember this sight," Shadow Weaver instructed her, fondly petting her head once again. "The Winter Solstice is when the constellations shine brightest. It's my favorite time of year."

"What's a constellation?"

"A pattern of stars." She waved her hands and the mirage vanished, and the smog coiled up like water draining down a pipe, and the sky darkened again. "But they don't shine anymore, my dear. Not anymore."

"How come?"

Shadow Weaver inhaled, ready to explain, and the entire world shattered around them. Two decades passed in the blink of an eye, another Solstice, another night, another Shadow Weaver and another Adora.

She was screaming, or trying to, pinned to the wall by a massive, billowing plume of smoke. It crawled down into her lungs, choking her until her eyes burned and watered, and no matter how hard she thrashed Adora knew she was going to die here and everything she worked for would be over.

Adora's feet kicked out at nothing as she rose, higher and higher. Hangman's noose gone wrong. There was no quick snap of vertebrae here. She was going to suffocate slowly and Shadow Weaver would enjoy every second of it.

"One last kiss goodnight," Shadow Weaver hissed, choking her harder.

Of course. After all this, death would be like falling asleep, maybe. No more pain.

That was some comfort, even if it was overshadowed by one terrible thought: she would die with Shadow Weaver consuming every inch of her. She would die overwhelmed by her, unable to see or think or feel anything else but the smoke in her lungs and her stomach, claws tearing her apart from the inside out.

She reached for the sword of She-Ra, trying to fight with her last scrap of life. Even if it was useless, she had to try.

Adora awoke drenched in sweat, her arm thrown over her head and her blankets kicked off the bed and onto the floor.

It was another Solstice and it was another night and another Adora, years later, and Shadow Weaver was dead.

Outside she could faintly hear the sounds of celebration. Usually on this night, Adora would turn in early. It wasn't out of grief, she was fairly sure. The anniversary of Shadow Weaver's death just happened to fall on a holiday she didn't enjoy. The longest night of the year. A dark so deep that every year she wondered if the sun would ever rise again, and she shivered and trembled until rose-fingered dawn relieved her and she could pass into a dreamless sleep.

Rolling out of bed, Adora went to the trunk at the foot of her bed and dug through it until she found what she wanted. Wrapped in tarp, a broken red clay mask. Adora dug her thumb into the forehead, where a fragment of the Black Garnet had sat. Sister to the shard that lay nestled in her own spine, that made her veins sing with unearned power.

Throwing her cloak over her shoulders, Adora went outside, slipped past the revelers, and exited Bright Moon to the Whispering Woods just outside.

She knew if the situation were reversed, Shadow Weaver would not spend an ounce of regret mourning her. So Adora lit a candle anyway and she propped the mask against a tree and she knelt before it, hands on her lap.

Maybe this would grant her some peace of mind. A vigil. Ritual. Things like that had rules, didn't they? Adora still liked rules, all these years later. She craved them as often as she bucked against them, a rebel at heart no matter how carefully Shadow Weaver had shaped her.

"If I give you the longest night of the year," she whispered. "Will you finally leave me alone?"

The mask did not respond. It was the only thing that survived when Adora had killed Shadow Weaver. It would have to serve, in place of a body.

Adora started digging. Thankfully it didn't take long. The dirt wasn't rigid with frost yet, and she was so much stronger now than she'd ever been before. Lingering over the grave, Adora held the mask in her hands one last time, wanting to remember something other than pain.

It took Adora a long time to understand that becoming She-Ra meant facing her own flaws. At first, after years of being told she was special, it had felt like confirmation of everything Shadow Weaver had told her she was. Perfect. Infallible. Meant for greater things. Shadow Weaver had built her to be perfect. And as much as she was idolized now, Adora never experienced anything like that again. Being the center of someone's universe to the point of unhealthy obsession.

Hot tears trailed down her face, falling onto the mask. She wiped them aside with her thumb, leaving a faint smear in the dust.

"This would be so much easier if I hated you," Adora said. "But I still— I s-still—"

The mask dropped from her numb hands as Adora covered her face with them both, weeping so suddenly that it caught her defenseless. It was frighteningly loud in the wake of so many years spent in silence. It left her screaming, the sound ragged as if she were about to be sick.

She'd never cried like this, not even when she was a little girl. Overwhelmed with everything she'd been pushing down, she was left with no other outlet except shrieks of pain. Like a dying prey animal. Like a fox in heat. Like something dark in the woods that didn't have a name.

Why did you do that to me?

Biting it back down, Adora took a deep, trembling breath. She scooped a handful of dirt over the mask, wiping her tears off on her shoulder. As the night stretched on she tried not to scream again, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself.

Why did you do that to me?!

It wouldn't have taken much. All Adora needed was a reason to not run away. She needed to know that she was doing good. And yes, she knew how stupid that sounded, how childish, how naive, how juvenile.

Then she burned, because who had taught her those things were frivolous? Who had taught her that? Who convinced her softness was weakness? Who convinced her that her heart was a liability?

Yet every lesson beaten into her skin seemed true in that moment. If her heart wasn't so soft, she wouldn't be in so much pain.

Why did you hurt me?

Stopping halfway because her vision was too blurry and her hands too uncertain to do the job well, Adora let herself sob a little more. Her breathing hitched and she allowed it, because her whole chest ached when she tried to stifle the whimpers.

The grave was half full. She needed to finish this before dawn.

Why didn't you love me?

That was the worst part, the part that she refused to say out loud.

Despite it all Adora could never bring herself to believe that Shadow Weaver didn't love her.

She hated how much Shadow Weaver still lived in everything she did. She hated how the first expressions of love she ever knew came from a hand that only ever wanted to hurt her. She hated how there were still inside jokes that she couldn't share with anyone, because the only people in on the joke were dead and she had murdered them. She hated how she could still taste her in every stray wisp of smoke. She hated how much she still craved that touch, to be stroked like a pet, her face caressed or her hair brushed or the center of her back rubbed.

She hated the Solstice, and she hated Shadow Weaver so, so, so, so much, and she would never, ever forgive her.

She hated how much she still loved her, and when the grave was filled Adora sat holding her knees to her chest and she cried wretched heaving sobs until there was nothing left.

The only way to survive this going forward, she tried to remind herself, was to understand that Shadow Weaver lied. There were people in her life who cared about her. Adora's big heart and all her flaws were what made her a person and not a tool, groomed to obey orders without question. There was still goodness in the world that desperately needed defending, and she would continue to fight for her ideals in spite of all the cruelty life had handed her.

And yet.

On nights like this, all alone, it was so hard to remember that. It was hard to believe anyone cared about her or needed her at all.

"No one will ever love you as much as I do, Adora," Shadow Weaver had promised her, full of warmth, full of affection.

And on the longest night of the year, Adora could only weep, terrified that it might be true.

Netossa and Spinnerella

She heard them before she saw them, cautiously creaking open the meeting room door to reveal the two princesses in the middle of a heated argument.

"Me?" Netossa was saying, offended at the very thought. "I'm not going to repeat myself. Obviously it's you, Spinner."

"This is the problem," Spinnerella pointed out, stomping one foot. "You're so stubborn! I can't say anything without you immediately contradicting me!"

"Is this a couple's thing," Adora said, reluctantly stepping in. "Because we're about to have a meeting now and we really can't be having a couple thing in the middle of that."

Netossa's eyes alighted on her, triumphant. "Excellent timing, Adora." She addressed her wife next. "We'll just let the She-Ra mediate this. Will that satisfy you, my love?"

Suddenly, Spinnerella deflated, all her arguments dying on her lips. "We can't ask the She-Ra for help with this," she said. "It wouldn't be right."

Adora sighed. Another problem for the She-Ra to solve. "I don't know how much help I'll be," she said, "But if will get you two to stop arguing, then I have to try. What's up?"

"My wife won't let her humble, pious act drop long enough to admit she's the better kisser."

"Netossa!"

"Well, you won't!"

"And you think each of us kissing the She-Ra will solve this how?"

"She's a neutral third party," was Netossa's reasoning. "Unbiased. What do you say, Adora?"

A long pause. The two of them blinked, realizing the space next to the door was suddenly very empty.

"Adora? Where did she go...?"

Adora booked it back out towards the throne room, thinking that this was one problem she could reasonably ignore.

Castaspella (suggestive!)

The mages never slept in Mystacor. Adora found that while the noise and bustle of scholars and wizards settled down with the darkening skies, she could always count on finding some quiet company in the meditation rooms, the public baths, the murmuring beaches. Usually introverts, like her. Nose deep in a book, ignoring her completely. Probably awake for different reasons, but at least she wasn't completely alone.

You know if you ever need someone to talk to, we're here.

She knew.

Unfortunately, there was no easy way to explain to her definitely virgin and probably innocent friends that what she needed was to be fucked to within an inch of her life.

It had been so much easier in the Horde. There were no strings attached unless you were setting up something transactional.

She knew Catra had often been tempted to try seducing her way towards more favors, but the cons outweighed the pros. Sleeping with superior officers was good if you wanted to stay safe and protected, bad if you wanted any chance at rising up in the ranks. Once you tied yourself to someone more powerful than you, it was very hard to sever that dynamic.

As much as Adora loved her new friends, and loved being around them, she knew she could never, ever, EVER sleep with them. They were too precious about sex, for one thing. Adora didn't quite understand it, but she respected it, and she knew that she could never give them what they needed out of it. Same with Catra. Everything about their relationship was defined by strings.

Before, her needs were carefully dissected and easily met. She'd had it down to a science. She'd find someone in another unit, of her own rank. Study them for a few weeks to make sure they weren't too dangerous. Engage in some quick surveillance to see if they were unattached and of compatible orientations.

Quick, no mess, no feelings, just an easy way to vent steam.

Now, the next best thing was to hang around where other people would completely ignore her. To know she wasn't the only quiet, living soul awake at night. Whatever kept them all from sleep, they shared this in common, and Adora found a measure of satisfaction in it.

Until someone sat next to her, midnight robes spilling out over the sandy beaches.

"You're up late, Adora," Queen Casta said, looking out of place in the mists and shadows. She had a bright personality; it shone when she smiled. There was something girlish in it— that smile made her think of Glimmer, artless and wide and bubbly. Adora imagined Glimmer's father must have been much the same way.

Adora found herself sitting up a little straighter, hands on her lap. "Your Majesty."

The Queen of Mystacor clucked her tongue, waving one hand at Adora. "None of that, now. You can just call me Casta, you know."

"I absolutely cannot do that," Adora responded without meaning to. She hadn't gotten a lot of sleep still. That, combined with the oddness of the hour and the tension of this meeting, made her tongue more loose than she liked. "Uh, ma'am."

Queen Casta lifted one shoulder in a shrug, eyes closing as if to say oh well.

Tension coiled up at the base of Adora's spine. She felt wound up suddenly, not prepared to make small talk, not now when she was quietly simmering in the dark.

She wasn't sure whether or not to be thankful that Queen Casta cut right to the point. "Have you been able to relax at all since your encounter with Shadow Weaver?"

No. "It's been uneventful."

"That's not the same thing, Adora."

A wisp of cloud wrapped around her ankle. Adora pulled her legs up higher, wrapping her arms around her knees and staring out into the twinkling, star-shining sea. The last thing she wanted to do right now was talk about her feelings. She'd done enough of that to last the whole month, thanks.

Beside her, she felt Queen Casta shift, a soft sigh escaping her. "Do you mind if I try something? Just to see if it might help."

Adora glanced at her, out of the corner of her eye. She didn't like staring too long at people. Even though she often wanted to, she rarely had the chance to do it without seeming like the outsider she was. Broken, and different, and odd.

Patiently, with no expectation at all, Casta waited. As the time stretched on, Adora waited for her grin to spoil, to be lashed at for denying a display of power over her. Casta reminded her of Glimmer in more ways than one, and so Adora waited for the queen to bluster her way through what she thought was the best course of action.

But instead, Casta leaned closer, her breath low with a conspiratorial whisper.

"You can say no, Adora," Casta said, biting back another smile. "I promise I won't be offended."

I can say no.

The idea alone was freeing. Something inside her unshackled, a weight dropping from her shoulders. She agreed before she could change her mind, nervous still as she sat with her back to Casta, and felt a cold hand on the vulnerable nape of her neck.

"Let me know if you feel uncomfortable at all," Casta said, spreading her fingers over Adora's scalp.

There would be no danger of that. If anything, it felt a little too good to be touched by the queen, warmth slowly seeping through her fingers as they searched for something in the whorls of her hair. Adora bit her lip to avoid groaning, a subtle vibration trembling through her whole body.

"Ahh," Casta said, "Right here. I found you."

What happened next was hard to describe. It was as though a rod of pure ice lanced through her head, clearing her anxieties in an instant. This time Adora really did groan, a helpless noise that made Casta laugh.

Shivers rolled up the back of her neck. "What did you just do?"

"There's physical pathways in our body, where energy flows and rests." A nail scraped down her spine, stopping just short of the collar of her shirt. "Think of them like, mmm, rivers. They do get blocked up from time to time, and it can wreak absolute havoc on our health."

The top of her head pulsed, and Adora could suddenly feel what Casta meant. It was worse than any knot in her muscle or strain in her joints. It was like a besmirchment on her entire soul, one that she never even realized was burdening her until the weight had been lifted.

Casta gripped her whole skull next, index fingers rubbing slow circles around her crown until they focused right between her eyes. Another hit, this one much calmer, cooler. It felt more like gas expanding and releasing, a puff of smoke into the air that vanished in a stray breeze.

This was better than any massage Adora had ever received in her life, and so far all Casta had done was smoosh her head a little.

Magic is awesome.

"Tilt your head back?"

From someone else it might have been an order. Adora obeyed anyway, eager to see what would happen next.

Casta lingered over her neck, reaching around to stroke the front of Adora's throat. Something shone, flickering and cold blue, even when she closed her eyes. There was no relief; if anything, her throat constricted more, tightening like it was drying up.

"Oh, dear." Casta's influence retreated as she rubbed her palm over Adora's throat. The tension dissipated some, but there was no sense of true relief. "I might not be able to do anything for you in this area, Adora. But that's probably for the best, we should stop here."

Her heart sank. Twisting around, she tried very hard not to sound like she was sulking when she asked, "Why?"

A rueful grin. "The energies blocked here are concerned with truth, and lies. The only cure would be something similar to a truth spell, and I would not subject you to something like that." Casta tapped a finger under Adora's chin, plucky and teasing. "You're a woman in a position of power. We must keep certain things secret, hmmm?"

"Well," Adora mumbled, "Would it be a permanent spell?"

Casta shook her head. "Nothing in this world is permanent."

"Then keep going. I don't have any secrets that might hurt anybody else, and I'm a lousy liar, anyway."

Adora could feel Casta's hesitation, an odd tension growing in the silence. Truth and honesty were hard won luxuries once you reached a certain level of influence, it seemed, because Casta was definitely trying to protect her. "Well if you change your mind, just tell me. I can end the spell at the drop of a hat, okay?"

She nodded, and to her surprise, Casta forced her to turn around entirely. The sand shifted under her like a living thing, easing the movement so that she was staring up at the queen with wide eyes. "Say you understand."

Her heart started beating a little faster, most of her attention on how Casta's hands were warm now, gripping her shoulders so tight. "Um. I understand."

"Good."

She kept Adora facing her for the next part, and Adora didn't know where she should look. Into Casta's eyes, dark and focused? Her lips, mumbling in a language she didn't understand? The crease on her brow? The divot of her throat, the spill of white flesh in the v of her robes, the curve of her shoulder, the—

Blossoming, billowing, thrumming blue light.

"Oh," Adora whispered around the lump in her throat, the one being smoothed out by Casta's thumb. Her eyes were closed, bliss throbbing through her. "That feels good."

"So I've been told." Casta straddled the line between amused and smug. "Ready for the next one?"

"There's more?" Adora said, delighted. "Thank goodness. I was already trying to come up with an excuse for you to keep touching me— uh!"

Adora's eyes shot open. She covered her mouth with both hands, flushing bright red.

"The one after the next deals with shame." Casta's hand rested over Adora's chest, burning white-hot now. "If you think you're being honest now, wait until you see yourself without that holding you back."

Again, she wasn't sure whether to be horrified or pleased that Casta did not waste any time with false pretenses, or by politely ignoring what Adora had just said. It helped that Casta was still grinning cheekily, laughing in a way that made Adora feel part of the joke rather than being the punchline.

"Okay. Well that's, terrifying, cause shame is the only thing that kept me from doing more than study you for weeks now." Adora clapped a hand over her mouth again, muffling a swear. "I didn't mean to say that!"

She was red from the tips of her ears all the way to her chest, her shoulders burning even hotter under Casta's palms. It was true, she had been studying Casta. Ever-vigilant, Adora kept notes on every leader she interacted with, finding comfort in the studious nature of having reports and observations that she could touch. And if she'd been watching Casta extra closely, it was just because she was Glimmer's aunt, connected to the throne by blood.

That was all. Probably. Maybe.

(So technically Casta and Adora were the same rank and from different units, if you really wanted to look at it this way.)

"It's perfectly normal. People usually get sleepy, hungry, or horny when I'm done with them. I think we can tell which way you're leaning, dear."

"I'm sorry," Adora reflexively said anyway. "...What do you normally do? When someone responds like this?"

"I relieve them, if they're amenable to being taken care of. That usually means feeding them or letting them sleep." The way she spoke balanced a fine line between brisk and candid, like a doctor, and comforting like a friend. "How are you feeling, other than that?"

She swallowed around a nervous knot in her throat. "Fine. Good." She wanted to be honest; when she hedged the truth, her neck felt tight and constricted, her mouth drying out. "So much better than before."

Half of her was undone, floating serenely above her. Every so often she saw a flicker of lights in Casta's eyes, mirroring the shards she saw behind closed eyelids. Leftover magic lingered in the air, hesitant like a bird unsure where to land.

Making a fist, Casta's knuckles pressed hard against Adora's sternum. She kept her in place with her other arm around Adora's back, palm flat so that Adora could feel herself being squeezed, impurities pushing their way out like a splinter. This one didn't feel as good as the others, and Adora found herself resisting, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. As much as she tried to sit still, she squirmed, kept only in place by her lingering discipline and Casta's firm hold on her.

"It's okay," Casta said, "It's okay."

A wave of grief rushed through her when Adora surrendered. It felt wet and sticky, emerging from the mire for Casta to take and polish and put away. In its wake was a bittersweet release, not warm and pleasant like the others but deeper, like the sore sting of a cut under medicine and sterile wrapping.

More grounded now, Adora lifted up a palm to her face and brusquely wiped away her sudden tears. "Didn't like that," she managed to grunt.

"Love always hurts." Casta didn't elaborate. Instead she pushed harder, knuckles biting now. "I'm going to put it all back now that we've cleansed them. Okay?"

Adora grit her teeth, bearing it until something slid back into place with the same surety and satisfaction of a teacup in a saucer, or a bolt in a lock. Piece by piece, Casta slotted back what she'd taken away, undoing the laces around Adora's throat and rubbing away the lingering tension between her brows.

"There," Casta said, sitting back and clapping her hands as if to rid them of dust. "All done."

Adora thought with her mental restrictions back, she'd feel heavier. That she'd miss the freedom of only telling the truth. But she flexed her emotions mentally, checking to see if everything was still working the same. There were no constraints at all; in fact she felt refreshed to have them all back after they'd been fluffed and stretched and polished in Casta's hands.

She tested her ability to lie, waiting for her throat to constrict as she puzzled over what to say next. Nothing hurt, so she went with the truth because she'd liked her pure honesty. "So you're not gonna do the shame one?"

One dark brow arched all the way up. "I didn't think you wanted me to do the horny one."

"Not in public." It took considerable effort now to tell the truth, but Adora was accustomed to hard work. "Not if you're going to relieve me."

Casta covered a shocked laugh with the back of her hands, eyes lighting up with amusement. "I see! Well, there's nothing I love more than taking care of the weary, soul-burdened heroes who walk through my doors."

Magic flowed through her again, the sands pushing Adora up to her feet. She stumbled forward into Casta's arms, held in a loose embrace. Taking her hand, the queen lead her away, hopefully to somewhere private.

"One condition," Adora said, strangely soothed by the simple act of Casta linking their fingers together. It felt innocent. She'd never realized she liked that kind of touch.

They stopped outside a solid stone door, taller than both of them stacked together and just as wide. It had to weigh thousands of pounds, but the massive hinges swung open easily under Casta's feather light touch, magic coursing through her fingertips and into the marble. The open doorway revealed carpeted floors, lamps casting a soft teal glow, crystal desks and shelves furnishing the queen's quarters. "Yes?"

Adora lifted their linked hands, resting it over her neck. "I want you to take this off again."

"Gladly."

Another murmured spell sent a frisson of pleasure over her whole body. Casta's thumb brushed over the swell of Adora's throat, and again that lock against dishonesty fell away, leaving nothing but the truth.

"After you," Casta said, bowing slightly and stepping aside so that Adora could enter the room first, with Casta a comforting shadow behind her.

Casta shut the doors behind them with a careless wave.

Catra, One Last Time

Catra awoke with a ragged gasp, heart thundering. She wiped her palms roughly against her face, chest heaving as she struggled to come to her senses. The last thing she remembered was Adora, which wasn't a surprise. She was always thinking about Adora, and their soured, bitter rivalry had not changed that fact. Instead of leaning on her, she pushed her away. Instead of loving her, Catra hated her. But no matter what she did or where they went or how they changed, one thing stayed the same. Catra would always compare herself to Adora, would always weigh herself against her actions. Becoming her enemy hadn't changed that, not one bit.

Despite it all, Adora was still the center of her universe. And the only way to change that would be—

Pain lanced through her skull, the whole world turning bright. Shouting in surprise, Catra gripped her own head and curled into a ball. Instinct made her want to become a smaller target for whatever was hurting her.

The only way to change it would be if Adora were simply gone.

"I killed her," she said, whole body throbbing now. "I killed her, I killed her!"

It took awhile for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but as the shapes around her made more sense, so too did her memories. It had all been so nightmarish, but one thing stood out sharp and clear.

She'd watched Adora fall, and she hadn't done anything to stop it.

Why does everything hurt so much?

Catra tried to get to her feet only to stumble and fall. She'd been lying on something, a stone slab. And when her knees stopped shaking, she pulled herself up and looked across the room.

And Adora was there, asleep in a similar position.

Then it all clicked. It had been a nightmare, some kind of invasive spell or illusion of First One technology. Catra's body rebelled as if she had been asleep for a week, and briefly she wondered if she hadn't been.

She dragged herself over to Adora's table, draping herself across the other girl.

"Hey, Adora?"

Shaking her, she coughed a few times to get the rust out of her voice.

"Adora, it's not real. You're in a freaky nightmare. Wake the hell up so we can—"

Again her head screamed in agony. This time Catra bore it with patience, eyes closed.

So we can what, exactly?

Catra slumped down next to the table, head in her hands.

Goodbye, Adora.

She hadn't known it was an illusion when she gloated over Adora, watched her scrabble and scramble and fail, yes, fail! Not perfect, for once in her life. That mental hellscape had been like every one of Shadow Weaver's lessons injected directly into her spinal column, family is holding you back, love is holding you back, personal attachment is holding you back.

It had reverberated inside her like a heartbeat, so loud that she couldn't ignore it any longer or she would die.

Was Adora still in there, being beaten with the same lesson?

Was she refusing to give in? Because now, looking at her with a clearer head, that's exactly what Catra felt she'd done.

"Wake up," she hissed, not wanting to alert any more security systems. "Get out of there!"

She could tell by the pull of Adora's skin that she was severely dehydrated. They'd been asleep for eons, maybe, Rip Van Winkles to emerge disoriented into the sunlight. The idea sparked another memory, and Catra took another few steps back to look at Adora again.

This time, really look at her.

No way. Even if her eyes told a certain story, she refused to believe it. It's just a fairy tale. It didn't mean anything.

"Unless," Catra said.

She was running out of options. And time. And common sense.

Adora was lying on her back, so still and pale she seemed dead.

Catra decided she had to at least try. Maybe this was what the book meant, all along, all those years ago. Maybe it really was a set of coded instructions for this heinous princess tech. Maybe there was a ritual to turn off the spell. Maybe there was still a chance to fix this.

Adora would forgive her. Adora always forgave her.

Leaning down, Catra pulled Adora's limp body higher and kissed her, hard. When nothing happened, she waited, perched on the edge of the table with Adora's head on her lap.

"When you wake up you'll see it wasn't real, right?" she said, stroking a hand through her hair, not sure who she was trying to reassure. "If you wake up." Catra kissed her, once, twice, then shook her again. "Why won't you wake up?!"

How long were we in there?

Catra had a feeling it didn't matter. Because she didn't know it was fake when she did what she did.

When she wakes up, Catra realized with dawning horror, She's going to kill me for real.

There was no room in her mind for any other outcome. Maybe once she'd had the luxury of doubt. Not anymore, after everything Adora had already done to betray her.

More pressingly than that, Catra needed to know how much time had passed. She needed water, she needed to get out of here.

"I figured it out," she said, "You will too."

She let Adora go, setting her back on the stone table and stepping back.

"Or rot here. I don't care."

I don't care, I don't care, I don't care.

She didn't. It was only the stress of emerging from that nightmare that even fooled her into thinking she did.

Catra clutched her head, the pain in her skull so overwhelming she wondered if she might pass out again.

If she left Adora behind this time, she really would die. No more monsters in her head. No more tests, with that strange alien voice in her skull murmuring constantly let go, let go, let go of it all, let go.

There was a clatter of stone in the darkness, a shape pacing back and forth. Black claws clicked against the floor, waiting for hours, waiting for forever.

She tried one last time. Kissing her to wake her up, like in the story. It didn't work.

And an exhausted voice, limp with defeat.

"You're on your own."

Then there was only silent, even breathing as the dark figure slipped into the shadows and left.

Catra never looked back.

#she ra #catradora #fanfiction #glimmadora

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another-chorus-girl · 5 years

Text

Erik House - Chapter 26

"Panaro please," Gerik mumbled. "Why? Your kind don't even like guns. Even you wouldn't go this far-"

"OH WOULDN'T I?!" Panaro snarled, shoving the barrel harder against the film adaptions neck.

"I don't want to fight anymore!"

"You seemed eager to fight before!"

"I was wrong! I just felt alone and angry!" Gerik could hear Panaro was breathing heavily, likely through clenched teeth.

"Panaro, please just listen to me for one moment. Give me one last chance."

Gerik tried to explain, "I know now taking advantage of Karimloo like this was wrong."

Gerik felt the barrel slacken against his skin at the mention of the West End Merik.

"I've been trying to fix his head, make him make sense of all this. 'Did you think that I would harm him?' I was selfish trying to play along but I never tried to make him unhappy. That night on the roof, I wasn't myself! I've been trying to control my anger. Please, I want him to love you again."

The film adaption exhaled a sigh, feeling the hand holding the gun be lowered.

But that moment of relief was just that, a moment. Before Gerik knew what was happening, the Broadway Merik spun him around to face Panaro-who looked haggard and deranged more than ever.

Gerik felt the gun shoved under his chin.

"I. Don't. Believe. You." Panaro practically hissed, getting right up in the masked man's face.

"Panaro, I-"

"SILENCE! You're lying! All you are is a liar!" The Broadway Merik screamed,

"You're not getting away with this trick!"

But before Panaro could do anything-whether he bluffed or had full intent on shooting Gerik-the film adapted tenor got the upper hand. Ramming himself forward, Gerik brutishly headbutted the Merik who fell over clutching his aching skull. The forehead of Panaro's porcelain mask was cracked, and the Broadway man moaned in pain.

Gerik grumbled, rubbing his forehead. While he was use to such forceful tactics, it would still leave a bruise. Not to mention the cracking and sharp shards from Panaro's mask on impact cause Gerik's temple to bleed. Panaro starting to come to, Gerik tried to snatch the gun away before the Broadway Merik got up. But both men's hands wrapped around the gun.

Panaro shot up ramming Gerik into a neighboring wall, the film adaptions diorama dolls clattering to the floor from the cinematic tenor's impact.

"Panaro don't!" Gerik cried, "I don't want to fight you!"

"Then you make this all too easy for me!" The Broadway man growled, wrestling with the film adaption. In a battle of strength the scales were definitely leaning in favor of Gerik.

But in a moment where neither knew who did it, the room went ominously still with a sudden bang.

Winslow grumbled impatiently.

"Oh do stand still birdman!" Mr. Y scolded him.

"Hey-dfjsdngsk! sgvrbge!!" He garbled. Something-whether it was Polo again or not-had torn through the wiring of Winslow's speech box. This all the more annoyed he and Destler, as this had caused them to postpone their last outing in the city. Already they were bickering before this.

"Hmm," Y hummed examining the box. "For one thing your wiring is a mess, looks like it hasn't been touched since the 70's."

Winslow gave him a dark eyed scowl as if saying he was pointing out the obvious.

"Well I'm sad to say I'm at a loss. The tech in this box is very dated, and even if I attempt to rewire it all, it would take up to a month for the proper replacement parts. I'm sorry monsieur."

Frustrated, Winslow merely snatched the faulty wires away from the sequel adaption and stormed down to the parlor, babbling garbled noise as he stomped through the hall.

Lewis sighed hopelessly as he walked up to his room. Kelly wasn't returning his calls, surely she cared? Wanted to make sure he had escaped?

Hopelessly he was worried about her. The tall framed Merik sighed, shutting the door to lean against it.

"OH HELLO GOOD SIR!"

Lewis bolted upright, finally bothering to look up.

"Wh-What ARE you doing monsieur?! Lewis questioned wide eyed-although the others could hardly tell when his eyes weren't wide.

Brawford sat there in their room fully at ease. He was wearing his blue evening robe and hat, but the red bedazzled tights were very distracting. Especially as the fresh Broadway Merik continuously crossed and uncrossed his legs.

"Why so tense good messieur!" Brawford jeered happily,

Lewis babbled awkwardly trying to make sense of the situation.

"You clearly don't follow my Instastory do you?" He asked.

"I'm...not too big on social media."

"Just as well. Why so down?"

"It's Kelly," Lewis moaned woefully, "She hasn't been getting back to me. I need to make sure she's ok."

"Not to worry monsieur, I'm sure she's alright. In fact let me look into that."

Crossing his tight clothed legs again, Brawford pulled his phone out typing away.

Quirking a brow, Lewis hesitantly approached the Broadway Merik.

"What...are you doing exactly?" The West End masked man asked.

"Kelly M Daae..." He mumbled, "Ah! There's her feed."

"Her what??" Lewis asked puzzled.

"Her Twitter feed! Ah, she seems to be doing well. Trying to adjust to some bloke named Thaxton." He read.

"You got all of that from this?" He asked pointing to his phone.

"Oh yes! Want me to show you how to use it?"

"I don't see myself becoming accustom to using such a tool. But maybe you could...help me get updates on how my Kelly is doing?"

Brawford smiled beneath his half mask, "Certainly!"

He chuckled aloud as Lewis sat opposite Brawford, hesitantly crossing his legs similarly to his new roommate.

Karimloo with Wilkinson's assistance had hobbled up the third floor steps. The West End Merik insisting he was alright was left alone, as he intended to ask Mr. Y if he planned on going into the city later that day. Perhaps fresh air-and just a few reps at the gym-might do the masked man some good in unclouding his jumbled thoughts.

Hearing disgruntled noises and something big being slammed into a wall of the adjacent room from Y's, Karimloo hesitantly approached the door noting it was Gerik's room. He really did need to speak to him, almost avoiding it really as it constantly ate away at him.

But what he saw was not a welcoming sight as Gerik and...and Panaro were fighting.

He wanted to help, he had to stop the Merik before he tried to kill Gerik too. But watching the two slam each other across the room, Karimloo's fractured mind was travelling a mile of minute in thought.

Who is who? What is what? Real? Not real?

The bang snapped his attention back in the room.

"NO!!!" Karimloo screamed seeing Panaro drop to his knees in pain. "PAN!"

Gerik was wide eyed in shock, just as much as the West End Merik was. He wasn't sure if his hand pulled the trigger or Panaro's, either way he hadn't meant for anyone to get hurt.

Karimloo lost his balance on his poor footing but went as far as to begin crawling on all fours toward the wounded Merik.

"Pan? Pan, Pan please." Karimloo mumbled through quivering lips. "Come on Pan, you're alright...come on..."

Panaro's breathing was hard and his hands clutching his stomach were coated red. But despite this he squinted up.

"This....it must be...a hallucination." Panaro gasped from the pain, reaching a blood smeared hand to ever so slightly touch the unscathed half of Karimloo's face. "Kari..."

Karimloo gathered Panaro up in his arms as both men wept.

"What the hell is going on?!" Mr. Y and Harley poked in, immediately taken back by the sight. "God..."

"Go get help!" Gerik called.

"You let the others know," Y explained to Harley "I'll try and-"

"No! No," Panaro managed to croak. "I'll get everyone into trouble..."

"With all due respect love, you're bleeding out in my arms!" Karimloo retorted.

Panaro smiled, "Back to love I see? Urgh...It hurts but it's not as bad as it looks..."

Mr. Y knelt down, pulling open Panaro's suit jacket and shirt-Panaro keeping a hand on the open wound.

"He's actually right," Y said. "Obviously you can't just leave it. But if you really want to avoid geting the others involved or a hospital-"

It seemed that Panaro, Karimloo, and Gerik all cringed at the very mention of a hospital.

"-then I can probably patch it up. I'm not a physician, but it'll be good enough to help it heal."

"I'll..." Gerik stared at the two Meriks "I'll help you get the supplies you need." Leaving the two, Karimloo continued to cry.

"How could I be so foolish?" He wept, "How could I possibly have forgotten you? How could I possibly hate you?"

"'Poor fool he makes me laugh ha ha ha...'" Panaro smirked but grimaced. "No I was the fool. I wouldn't be bleeding onto this surprisingly intricate carpet if not my own recklessness."

"I'm just so sorry Pan..." Cradling the bleeding Broadway Merik.

"As am I Kari..." Panaro sniffled.

While word thankfully hadn't reached Erik's ears, it certainly had to Crawford's after arriving home from an evening of errands. And though displeased that violence had still conspired in the house-and by one of his own this time-the elder Merik was relieved the situation hadn't gotten out of control as the rooftop had. The wound looked worse than it really was.

The bullet hadn't punctured any vital organs or arteries and Panaro hadn't lost enough blood to turn the situation fatal. Aside from several stitches, the Merik was able to get around as required.

"Away, away with you all," He shooed away the gawking sets of mask concealed eyes from Panaro and Karimloo's reunited quarters. "Both of them are fine but for now gentlemen I kindly ask you leave them be."

Like pouty children the Meriks' dispersed at the command. Mismatched eyes caught a shadow peaking around the corner by the stairwell.

"You're not expecting me to throw a fireball at you, are you Monsieur Gerik?"

He asked, already knowing it was the film adaption-not to mention the cologne on him was powerful enough to smell from where the Merik stood.

"Every time something goes wrong I always expect the blame," Gerik mumbled. But what he was not anticipating was the elder gentleman outstretching his hand to him.

Gerik cocked his head confused, "Why?"

"A thank you is in order, Panaro confessed to me you tried to stop him without resorting to a violent conclusion." Crawford said.

"But it did?"

"Of course either one of you could have pulled the trigger, more than likely the boy shot himself. Yet another reason we loathe firearms being that our aim is also quite off. Fire is a much easier substitute..." The elderly masked man shook the nostalgia out of his head. "My point being you only fought back when you had to and that you have been trying to help Monsieur Karimloo. This week has been difficult for everyone but especially him."

His malformed lips curved in a genuine smile at the film adaptation. "Thank you Gerik. And believe me, eventually this will lead to more than just simple words of gratitude."

Gerik nodded, shaking the outstretched hand.

"You're welcome."

*sniffles* Onto a few footnotes!

-More Ben Crawford instastory jokes! One popular joke in particular is the “Crawford Cross” where he films while crossing his legs in costume, usually wearing the Red Death tights.

-On another note while Ben Crawford is very social media active Ben Lewis on the other hand is not and very rarely used behind the scenes social media streams.

-David Thaxton is in reference to the current London Phantom after Ben Lewis left.

#Erik house AU #erik house #Phantom of the Opera #panarimloo #Gerik #winslow #mr y #merik

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lovemesomesurveys · 5 years

Text

5,000 question survey series--part thirty-seven

3501. Is 'no glove, no love' your STRICT policy? Virgin here, but yeah it would be.

3502. What is the best Epic movie (examples of epics: ben-her, gone with the wind, last temptation of christ)?/ So, I’m dumb and thought you meant “epic” as in “awesome”, but something was telling me that you meant it in a different way, so I had to Google it. Apparently, if anyone else doesn’t know, it’s a style of movie that usually focuses on an heroic character. Google it if you want to know more, but yeah. Anyway, I saw a list of top Epic films and saw Forrest Gump was on there, so I’ll choose that. 3503. Finish the sentance. Hey, Hey we're the: People say we: But we're too busy: The time to hesitate is: You're too: It's a nice day to: start again. 3504. Have you ever had 'missing time'? It does seem like you lose time and it just slips away. I certainly feel that way. 3505. Have you ever sent an electronic greeting? Waaaaay back in the AOL days I sometimes send those electronic greeting cards.

3506. If you could send anonymous tips to people you knew who would never ever find out who sent them who would you send the following tips to? doesn't know when to leave: poor crotch hygenie: talks to much: band/art/dream is going nowehere: most likely to get arrestted: needs to get their life together: bad taste in clothes: bad taste in music: needs a hobby: 3507. Are you more likely to download porn or disney movies? Disney movies. I don’t watch porn. 3508. What is it with people? Good question. 3509. Do you eat too much sugar? No. My thing is carbs. 3510 Imagine you have aband. Let's name your band. Adjective: Plain. Animal(plural): Dogs. Your band name is (adjective) (animals) Under Glass!: Plain Dogs Under Glass. Could be better? Uh, yeah. Let's try again. Adjective: Fabulous. Noun (plural): Clothes. Your band is (adjective) (nouns) With Puppets: Fabulous Clothes With Puppets. 3511. Are you desperate but not serious? What.

3512. Was there a time when you were younger and it took less to get you excited? Oh, definitely. As a kid I was easily pleased and entertained and actually enjoyed doing things. Getting McDonald’s or something was exciting. What did it take then? Not much. What does it take now? A lot. :/ Even when it’s something I do like and enjoy, I just don’t have that spark anymore. Getting food isn’t even exciting anymore. 3513. Remember learning to write in elementary school? Yeah.

We spend 2 years learning to print..then they throw that out the window and teach kids cursive. Why? They don’t throw it out the window. We learned cursive in addition to print.

If cursive is so important and easy to read then why aren't books printed in cursive? It’s just a nicer looking print used more for things like our signature. Why aren't cursive computer fonts more popular? I don’t know, man. Not something I’ve thought about. Why do buisness forms always say 'please print'? Because it’s more legible than cursive typically. That’s just how it is okay I don’t knowww. Schools are so preoccupied with teaching kids the complicated but traditional skill of cursive writing that more emphasis is put on that than on teaching kids how to clearly express their ideas through writing. I move that cursive writing become a jr. high school elective instead of a grammer school priority. Who's with me? I don’t know what it’s like in schools now, but for me I remember learning it, but I don’t remember it being such a big deal. 3514. Can you think of anything else (besides cursive writing) that is unhelpful, or unuseful, yet traditional and unquestioned? What? I’m sure there’s a lot of things, but I don’t feel like coming up with any. 3515. Name one female celebrity who you would guess wears size ___ clothing: 0? 5? 12? 16? 20? 3516. Have you ever been to a place where the restrooms were named in a clever way rather than just saying men's and woman's? I've seen Hens and Roosters, Bart and Lisa, Dudes and Babes...what have you seen? I’ve heard of places that do that, but I don’t think I’ve ever been to one. 3517. What is the 'message' or 'point behind': Fight Club? Donnie Darko? AI? Minority Report? Solaris? A Walk to Remember? You've Got Mail? 3518. have you seen, and what are your thoughts about these movies: Drumline? The Hot Chick? I think it’s funny. Maid in Manhattan? It’s cute. Star Trek: Nemesis? About Schmidt? Evelyn? The Guys? Intacto? The Jimmy Show? The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers? Gangs of New York? Two Weeks Notice? The Wild Thornberrys Movie? I wasn’t into that cartoon much as a kid. Smokers Only? Treasure Planet? The Santa Clause 2? It’s cute, but The Santa Clause will always be the best. 3519. START this sentance: ....and I think to myself, what a wonderful world." Something about seeing trees of green and red roses bloom.

3520. What is: insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. normal? Common, typical among a large group of people. Things can be considered normal for individuals, too. farenheit? Unit to measure temperature.

3521. Tell us about yourself in the third person for a bit: This girl really needs to get her shit together cause she’s a mess. 3522. If someone breaks a law, should they be punished if they did not know it was a law? It can be difficult to prove if they did or not, but that’s why in certain circumstances people are just given a warning.

3523. If it's so much easier to learn languages when we are very young (and it is, something to do with the developing brain) why do they wait until jr high and high school to teach them? *shrug* 3524. Name a band you sort of like: You are wearing that band's t-shirt in a store. SUDDENLY some guy you don't know comes up to you and goes, "Hey! You like (insert name of the band here)??!!" This is obviously a really stupid question because if you didn't like them you wouldn't be wearing the t-shirt. Your witty reply is: 3525. If you were organizing cd's in a music store what section would you put each of the following in (don't forget the 'bargain bin' section!): Blink182 Depech Mode Weezer Led Zeppelin The Doors Avril Lavigne Nelly Manfred Mann Iggy Pop Pink Floyd Guns N Roses Shakira Britny Spears Tool Ozzy Osbourne Madonna The Rolling Stones The Beatles Motley Crue Bon Jovi 3526. Does coffee stimulate your mind or body more? It takes off some of the edge, and I really just love coffee, so I guess I’d say my mind cause it doesn’t do much at all for the tiredness anymore.

3527. Can you do 'six degrees of seperation' to anyone famous? Nope.

3528. What's the oddest thing in your home? *shrug*

3529. Do you find it odd when people who are not handicapped use the handicapped stall: in the bathroom? Some parents use it if they have a small child with them. in the parking lot? There’s a stall in the parking lot? ha. It’s pretty messed up when people who genuinely don’t need it use it and take the place from someone who genuinely does. People need to keep in mind; though, that handicapped doesn’t just mean “wheelchair user.” People assume if they’re not in a wheelchair then they don’t need that parking spot and that’s not always the case. 3530. Do you sometimes find yourself talking to yourself? I call it thinking out loud. My mind is a jumbled mess and it helps me sort out things sometimes.

Do you answer yourself back? I don’t have conversations with myself, I just think things out loud.

3531. In your head do you call yourself 'I' or 'you' or both? I refer to myself as “I.”

3532. What is the best excuse for why you haven't done your homework? I don’t have any cause I’m not in school anymore.

3533. Someone tells you 'well there are black people, and then there are n*ggers'. What do you think? Wow, wtf. I’d think “racist” first of all. 3534. Does culture shape behavior or does behavior shape culture? Both.

3535. What determines whether a person will be: A lot of different factors contribute to these things. intelligent? pretty? happy? sucessful? 3536. What is social loafing? When people put in less effort when they’re in a group. What is groupthink? Conforming to the rest of the group.

3537. I have an idea. let's change the english language by making the words fewer, shorter and more concise. What do ya think? Not sure how you’d go about that. Sounds like a lot of work.

3538. What are the physical symptoms of: joy? Smiling, that feeling of butterflies in your stomach, rapid heart rate. fear? Rapid heart rate, sweating, stomach in knots feeling, trouble breathing. shame? Anger, rage, anxiety, crying. 3539. Here's the scenerio...your little eight year old brother is hangin out in the house when you come in..and catch him watching the playboy channel! What do you do/say? I’d quickly switch the channel and ask what he was doing.

He says, "Why can't I watch this?" What is your response? It’s not appropriate for kids. Watch cartoons. Why do you respond that way? Because I don’t think a child should watch that stuff. I wouldn’t freak out on him, but I’d explain it’s just not appropriate. Then if he had questions he could go to my parents, ha.

3540. Who REALLY has a higher sex drive, girls or guys? Really depends on the person. How can you tell? 3541. are you usually carefree? Ha. Haha. Hahahaha. Good one. 3542. Do you generally prefer reading to meeting people? Yes. 3543. Do you often long for excitement? I mean, a break in the mundane routine is nice. 3544. Are you mostly quiet when you are with others? Depends. 3545. Do you often do things spur of the moment/ Nope. 3546. Are you slow an unhurried in the way you move? No. I know people like that and it can be annoying.

3547. Would you do almost anything for a dare? Nope. I’m a lame-o. 3548. Do you hate being in a crowd who plays jokes on one another? Playful joking and goofing around is fun. Unless that’s all they do and they’re just annoying and obnoxious about it to where it’s not fun anymore. 3549. Do you enjoy wild parties? Nope.

3550. Have you ever paid for something priced more than $5.00 in only change? Noo.

3551. Is rascism still a big part of our culture? Yes. You’re in denial if you think it doesn’t still exist. 3552. A drawing was shown to a person. The drawing showed a black man in a buisness suit standing next to a white man holding a razor. The person who saw this drawing was white and was asked to describe it to a second white person who had not seen it, who described it to a third, and so on. By the end of six rounds the final report often placed the razor in the hand of the black man and it is claimed he is waving it threateningly. What do you think of thiss? There’s a whole test and study on this type of thing. I remember discussing it in one of my psych courses. 3553. How many famous people cxan you name who committed sucicide?> Too many. :( 3554. Do you have OCD? No. 3555. Are you more anxious or relaxed? Very anxious. Insecure or secure? Very insecure. Socialble or with drawn? Very withdrawn. Original or conventional? Hmm. 3556. Are you more emotional or calm? Emotional. self pitying or content? Self-pitying. Fun loving or sober? You can be fun loving and sober... Imaginative or down to earth? Both. 3557. Are you more Friendly or aloof? I’m polite and friendly, but I’m not like outgoing and sociable. adventurous or cautious? Cautious. Broad or narrow when it comes to interests? Broad. recptive or closed to new ideas? I’m open to hearing new ideas and opinions. I don’t have to agree, but it doesn’t mean I’m not open to hearing them. 3558. Are you more good natured or irratble? I’m an irritable person. soft hearted or ruthless? Soft hearted. well organized or disorganized? Disorganized with life. Dependable or undependable? I used to think I was dependable, but I wouldn’t say that now. 3559. Are you more courteous or rude/ I’m courteous. sympathetic or tough minded/ I can be both. hardworking or lazy? I have no motivation or drive anymore. ambitious or easy going? Generally pretty easy going. I try to be. Anxiety Inscurity Emotionalism and Self Pity are traits of a neurotic personality. Sociable, fun loving, friendly and adventurous are traits of an extraverted personality. orignality, imaginative, broad interests, and receptive are traits of an Open personality. Good natured, soft hearted, courteous, and sympathetic are traits of an agreeable personality. Well organized, dependable, hardworking and ambitious are traits of a conscientious personality. 3560. Do men and woman have little or a lot in common? Depends on the people. A woman or man could have a lot in common, but that same woman or man could have little to nothing in common with another woman or man. It all just depends. 3561. Do you feel like any of the teachers you've ever had have REALLY cared about educating you to think for yourself? Yes. I had a version of Mr. Feeney. Do you tend to try harder if they DO care? It makes a huge difference when the teacher genuinely wants to teach and help you. 3562. Have you ever been stereotyped? Yeah. As what? For my disability. 3563. Have you ever been dsicriminated against? No. For what? 3564. How often is your school and/or job closed due to weather? Done with school, no job. 3565. Who do you know that you believe does not masturbate? I don’t care to know. 3566. Does a cloned human being have a soul? Watch Pet Semetery or something of the sort and see what you think. ha.

Why or why not? You can’t clone the outside, but they’re not going to be the same person. That’s just not something you can clone. A lot of factors go into making a person who they are. 3567. Finish the sentance: As the world turns..I only have one concern...that: I don’t know. 3568. What group in history has been the most oppressed? All groups have. 3569. Have you read any biographies? Yeah. Whose? I’ve read several for school. 3570. What are you obsessed with? I’m not obsessed with a person, but I do love me some Alexander Skarsgard. ;) 3571. Break out your decoder ring..(no hints this time)! t3ii9 8 i9f3 697 29h5 697 53ii j3 6974 hqj3? 3572. Do you crack your: knuckes? Yes. neck? Yes. back? No.

other? Yeah, my arms and wrists. 3573. Of the following powers which 2 would you pick for yourself? The ability to fly, breathe under water, turn invincible, change into animals, freeze and restart time, never gain weight unless you want to, heal people with your touch, have orgasms that last for an hour Fly and restart time. 3574. Do you chew your penciles and pens? No. 3575. Can you tell the exact point where your back ends and your butt begins? Yeah? 3576. When you are bored do you picture everyone eround you naked? No. 3577. What are some great holiday gift ideas for Depends entirely on the person. You really have a tendency to group people and generalize.

guys: girls: 3578. Who looks better naked, men or woman? That depends on your preference. 3579. Do you sit in chairs or fall into them? I’m always sitting. 3580. Has anyone ever: screamed your name during sex? moaned your name during sex? 3581. Hershey's kisses: mint, almond, hugs, plain. other? Mint, plain, and the candy cane ones. 3582. What's the best slurpee flavor? I used to always get Coke and cherry together. I haven’t had a Slurpee in years, though. 3583. What are five movies that you think someone would have to be living under a rock in iceland to not have seen? The Marvel and DC movies, honestly. 3584. Of these words, which ones are funny: beets? cumquat? pit? Piss-capades? fuzzy? What are some other funny words? 3585. Do you give good massages? I’ve never given one. 3586. What songs have been 'stuck' in your head? Nothing at the moment. 3587. What don't most people know about your job? I don’t have a job. 3588. Is there anything you won't say unless someone else says it first? Initiate most conversations apart from my family. 3589. Do you need a little chrsitmas? I still have my decorations up in my room... ha. 3590. Fake or real tree? Real. 3591. Is your refridgerator running? Yeah. You know what to do. Nah, I don’t feel like running after it. 3592. How can you explain when there are few words you can choose? What. 3593. Who can it be now? I wonder who they’re talking about in that song. 3594. Where HAS Joe Dimaggio gone? *shrug* And why does our nation turn it's eys to him? 3595. How often do you get headaches? Maybe a handful a month. It varies. 3596. Have you ever woen fake eyelashes? Yeah. 3597. What could you spend 24 hours ina row doing? I don’t know. 3598. Is it Friday yet? It’s Sunday. 3599. Do you remember There was a time (ahaha) when people on the street were walking hand in hand in hand?/ 3600. Do you talk to inanimate objects? When they’re not functioning properly. Do you try to get them to answer you? ...No. Have they ever answered you? Uh, no. I’d be extremely freaked out if it did.

#I end up skipping so many questions cause they're just so wtf #and I'm lazy #personal #text #survey #surveys #5000 question survey

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