#// either a blast from the past moment OR a new experience

[monogatcri]

━━ ˟ ⊰🍁LEGS DANGLE OVER THE LEDGE , suspended over a hundred feet in the air and kicking about as though he weren't above a death-inducing plunge should the wood beneath him give way. There is no fear of heights -- only a fear of falling -- but Niwa didn't pay it much mind as digits clasp the edge of wood, body leaning forward to call out with a laugh, ❝ I feel like an archon with a view like this! ❞ Tacking on to the end, his voice faux haughty: ❝ You should kneel before you archon! ❞

[bimbosanddolls]

Choose Your Own Adventure: The Dark Sorceress

You stand outside the door to the Midnight Cathedral’s throne room. Inside, you’re certain that you will find the Dark Sorceress Narcissa. The very thought of her sends a chill through your body. For years, Narcissa has tormented your kingdom. Tales of princesses being vanished away, curses placed upon entire towns and villages, and countless other terrible stories are whispered throughout the taverns and castles alike. In an attempt to finally cast the shadow of Narcissa away once and for all, a group of promising heroines were assembled and trained to become a new Order of Witch Slayers. You are the fifth Slayer to be tasked with Narcissa’s defeat; the first four having never been seen again after storming the Cathedral. You shudder as you think of your fellow Slayers before taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. You would be the one to finally end the Sorceress' reign of terror and avenge your sisters. With a renewed sense of purpose, you summon a blast of wind magic and send the heavy onyx doors flying open. Inside the throne room, your bold entrance has fallen surprisingly flat. Four veiled figures turn their heads and, though you cannot see their eyes, you can feel their gaze on you. It feels familiar but unfriendly. You’ve interrupted something and they are not pleased. You notice that they are nude; their lithe bodies in stark contrast to the sheer, black veils they wear. Between them, dressed in a long, black gown, sits the Dark Sorceress herself. Her eyes are also fixed on you, but you do not sense any concern in them. Instead, you see her blood red lips curve into a wicked smile as Narcissa stands from her throne and takes a step forward. “My my, what do we have here?” her words are heavy and sensuous. “Had I known we were expecting company, I would have dressed the girls in something a little more… appropriate.” You can feel your blood begin to boil. It’s clear she doesn’t see you as a threat. You reach for the blade at your hip but freeze when your eyes dart from the Sorceress to her attendants. A look of disbelief washes over your face, and Narcissa responds with a knowing laugh. “Oh? Did you notice your friends? Or, forgive me, were they your sisters? I never did bother to understand the structure of your little Order.” You look past her again, taking a moment to focus on each woman still kneeling by the throne. Narcissa wasn’t wrong; these were indeed the missing Slayers. Each of them is recognizable to you, yet different. The fire that previously burned in each of their eyes is now doused. Their toned bodies appear softer, and more inviting. You can’t tell whether either is the result of the Dark Sorceress’ magic but you suppose it doesn’t truly matter right now. Your mission is clear; slay the witch. Rescuing your allies would have to come later. You reach for your blade again, determined to finish this once and for all. If Narcissa is worried at all, her expression does not show it. “Oh darling,” she purrs, “do you really think that cheap piece of steel is going to do anything to me? It doesn’t need to be this way, you know. You could join me, join the others."

She gestures back towards your sisters, "Don’t they seem happy? Does it really seem as though I’ve harmed them in any way? I know you all consider me to be some sort of ‘Dark Sorceress’ but I assure you I am a very kind and loving Mistress.” You say nothing but your eyes shoot back to the former Slayers. Could it be true? Or was this just another one of Narcissa’s evil tricks? Perhaps seeing your hesitation, she takes the opportunity to elaborate. “Think about it, dear. They took you from your families, trained you to little more than tools for their cause, and denied you the chance to make your own path. All I’ve done is offer your ‘sisters’ a choice. And now I offer you the same. You may join us and experience a life of your own, a life that the people you mean to defend have hidden from you. Or, you can fight and feel the fullest extent of my power.”

[ask-the-koopa-kingdom]

can we get a bit of info about each kid?

[YAPPING TIME, LETS GO!!! - OP]

In addition to the info presented here:

Larry has the least amount of abilities in comparison to his siblings. With only fire breathing and magic blasts, Larry has to get creative in battle. He'd actively practice to get better at magic... if he had the level of commitment required. As mentioned in the first post, he started the ask blog to avoid problems with press - but it's also because he adores any attention he can get. Makes him feel special (T▽T)

Lemmy and Larry are birds of a feather.

Larry could be considered the weakest of the seven, but Lemmy is undoubtedly the smallest. The two hang out more than anything, and can always rely on each other when they need company.

In addition to fire breathing and magic blasts, Lemmy is capable of casting illusions and summoning those silly circus balls he can run over opponents with. A feat achievable with an enhanced balance and acrobatic support in comparison to the others.

Morton is more complicated than he seems. What he lacks in intelligence he makes up for in compassion and perception. Streets smarts rather than book smarts. He can tell when something is wrong much faster than the others and is quick to act on it. He's even quicker to put himself in between those he loves and any trouble.

At the moment, he's struggling with anxiety surrounding that specifically. A hunch that there's a danger lurking, ready to attack if he doesn't keep an eye out. (It's not exactly an unfounded one, it's come up after the events of Bowser Jr's Journey where he and his siblings were forced under mind control... that'd make anybody a little worried.)

Only time will tell if he's actually right on this hunch.

(There was this sighting, but... not really reliable)

Similar to Roy, he's one of the strongest Koopalings (he knows this), as such, barely needs to use magic in battle instead of his brute force. So, he thinks learning to use it is a waste of time.

Iggy is EXTREMELY hyperactive, and loud. If there's one thing he doesn't have, it's any lack of intelligence. He's the fastest Koopaling, and prides himself on being a genius (though mad genius is a better way to put it).

His impulsivity can bar him from making the BEST decisions, but his own unpredictability gives him a leg up when required.

Owns a pet Chain Chomp named Chompi, who he treats like a pitbull named Princess. (Most accurate description of that thing as he is GLAD to sic on either unsuspecting plumber).

Wendy is sweet, but extremely cunning. She uses that sweetness to get whatever she wants out of someone, almost imperceptively, whether that be a chat, sweets, or information. (She understands the saying "You'll catch more flies with honey rather than vinegar" and by god does she USE IT.)

She does use magic, moreso for convenience rather than a true desire to learn. She's content with what she knows already. (Sometimes she wishes she could use hypnosis though...)

Good Lord, Roy. On the outside, a tough guy. On the inside, reasons upon reasons to be that way. Dude has layers.

He's a believer in tough love, as such, isn't as outwardly affectionate towards any of his siblings - however, he will still defend them just as fiercely in the event of an emergency.

One of his most important dislikes is the dislike of press

(This one's actually shown up from as far back as the intro post!)

He considers news reporters to be vultures waiting to use something against him and his family. (This is due to a past experience out of canon that's kind of tainted his view on all sorts of press entirely. And makes his relationship with this ask blog pretty complicated too...)

Ludwig has similar beliefs to Roy (Tough love and all that) but he can't help but be a BIT affectionate here and there. However, he's barely had the time due to what he's been doing on his day to day. He keeps a very tight schedule, training at every opportunity he gets, whether it be magic, or hand-to-hand combat, and as mentioned previously, barely sleeps. Not for the best reasons, either. He doesn't have the same anxiety Morton does that something bad's coming their way. He just wants to prove to someone (and himself) that he's the best at what he does.

[If you guys need more specific info, pls ask, these are practically the basics - OP]

[bxttxrflybxddie]

|Dating Mime Bomb|

a/n: GOD i love this mime skdjlsbdksbdks pls let me be self-indulgent lmao please enjoy

pairing: mime bomb x gn!reader

post type: headcannons

requested: yes!

word count: 750+

warnings: thieving, major fluff, brief mentions of past bullying, possibly brief mention of monogamy? (mentioned how you're his fav person), might make a pt. 2, or a drabble, or a continuation that isn't safe for minors lmao idk it's 4am!

Mime Bomb adores you! There’s no use hiding how you’re running through his mind all day. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t, since anybody could guess from the lovestruck expression on his painted features. He wears his heart on his sleeve.

He’s your biggest supporter, for better or for worse. He’s always up for tagging along on any mischief (preferably criminal) you’re up to. He keeps an eye on you since you’re his favorite person, but invite him anyway! It's the thought that counts!!

Working together on missions is a blast. (Both of you working for VILE or not.)  Between romantic gestures and getting some needed alone time, the beautiful scenery changes the setting from an expedition to a date. Even if VILE doesn’t land their sticky fingers on a prized artifact, you and Mime Bomb never leave the area empty-handed. (You’re holding each others! And perhaps stolen property.)

Indulging in his interests is one of the best ways to make him feel appreciated. Get him some merchandise from a musical and he’ll reward you with either mimed kisses or a gift in return! You don’t need to tell him what you’re interested in, he knows from his pining before you two got together. (Tell him anyway, he’ll love that you want him to know your passions.)

Downtime is the best time. As much as he likes his mime getup, and how loveable you may find it too, Mime Bomb bare-faced in ordinary clothing is a beautiful sight. He can rub his face on your chest/lap/head/shoulder/etc. without worrying about redoing or transferring his foundation, you get a peek into his everyday style, and you can finally see how red he gets after flustering him.

Tease him, be relentless. He’s been bullied, picked on, and made fun of his whole life. He can take just about anything you give him out of pure experience. Lovingly satirize him but give him the space to do it back to you. Not only is this great for inside jokes between the two of you, but it’s almost healing for him. To laugh with someone instead of being laughed at is something he never processed since he was always the butt of the joke. It’s like rough-housing but with words and actions instead of physical contact. Physically tease him too, lingering touches and featherlight kisses make him swoon.

Kissing him, lipstick on or not, is an art form between you both. It’s sacred and cherished, with the everlasting fear that each lock of lips might be the last. Holding hands is also attached to sweet moments. Since he normally wears gloves, it’s not often you’re allowed to feel the skin of his palms or the bones of his knuckles. He’ll allow you to paint his nails, but he normally chooses black so prepare to stock up.

He does daydream about a future with you. Either by a continuation of your relationship now or maybe something big and new. He wants you by his side and him by yours through thick and thin. You’re his person; his rock, and he tries to let you know in every little shared moment. 

Mime Bomb is arguably the stealthiest operative that VILE has had, which means that he’ll be completely silent without always meaning to. You’re jumpscared constantly, but you learn to get used to it since it’s an accident. Little do you know that he purposefully shocks you sometimes, he thinks it’s cute. He also lets you get away with a lot more than he should just because he thinks you’re adorable. Stolen items, deceiving others (not himself, to make that crystal clear), even possibly joining Team Red, He’s turning a blind eye. If your actions carry a heavy burden to conceal, he’ll expect a prize. (Date Night is now THRICE a week!!)

Unsurprisingly, not a bad significant other. What he lacks in experience is made up in enthusiasm. Your dear mime is a theater kid and a hopeless romantic, so he’ll sometimes pull actions or lines (nonverbally) from scenes of movies, musicals, and even a few shows. If you know what he’s referencing, act out the corresponding part to see him stumble before regaining his confidence. 

He feels incredibly special that you’re in his life and your presence is doing wonders for his mental health. Knowing that someone is in his corner after so many years is a comfort he’s never known before. However, he’d like to learn and repay it if it’s with you.

© BXTTXRFLYBXDDIE

[97keanu]

Ted Logan x Historic!Reader

Premise: Reader and Ted have been dating for a short while, but had met on one of Bill and Ted's many time adventures. Reader is from the past, and is going to her first Halloween party in 1992. Reader who was stuck with the expectations of women in the past who finally feels free to do as she pleases. Reader experiences 90s twenty-something culture to it's fullest with her wonderful boyfriend.

Tags/CW: Fluff, autumnal/halloween themed, boyfriend!ted, stoner!Ted + Bill, reader gets high but is a lightweight, drinking/drug mentions, anxious!reader, shy!reader, soft!ted, ted reassures reader and is the sweetest boyfriend, dancing the night away, ted tells you he loves you, ted who loves PDA.

Authors Note: tiny text just to save room, rest of post is normal. This one has surprisingly no smut, so if you've been wanting to read a cute, fluffy fic, this one is for you! I kept which part of the past reader is from vague so that you may fill that in as you like! ʚ♥︎ɞ

The house is already lit up, the sounds of heavy metal blasting through the open windows, while the rustling of leaves crunch around your red heels. You look over to your boyfriend Ted with a bit of worry, trying to gauge his reaction. You haven't lived in San Dimas long, in fact, you haven't lived in 1992 for that long either. You still can't believe this loveable goof had dazzled you into his phone booth, taking you from the past and so far into the future. There are times where you wonder if it was the right move, but Ted has always assured you that he would take you right back home if you ever said the word.

And here you are, dressed as what Ted described as a "cartoon" character (which you're sort of becoming familiar with since he and Bill insist on their "Saturday morning cartoons") who supposedly solves mysteries of some sort. You think Ted looks pretty normal tonight, his shirt a particular shade a green and his pants a reddish brown. He completes the look with joint he has stashed behind his ear for later.

You pull your attention back to the big house, it seems almost abandoned, or at least well partied. Tonight, the barren trees outside sport toilet paper waving in the wind, and the orange glow from inside occasionally flashes to green or purple. The thump of Motley Crüe can be heard as you two walk up, and other twenty-somethings adorn the rickety porch their own costumes. Ted laughs as he greets someone dressed as Freddy Krueger (he made sure to get you up to date on your horror movies this month) with a chest bump before glancing down at you. He sees your worried expression and reaches to hold your hand.

"Don't worry babe, everyone's going to like, totally love you!" He smiles that earnest, puppy dog smile of his, and you feel some of the worry subside. You hold onto his hand as you enter the loud, crowded house.

Vince Neil is just finishing his last 'Shout at The Devil' as you squeeze between two Ghostbusters to keep up with Ted. Everything here is so new and strange to you, you hardly understand half of the costumes, even with Bill and Ted spending extra time to keep you culturally in touch with the early 90s. The glow of the kitchen beckons Ted, and you follow.

Inside you see Bill, dressed up as in a giant brown dog suit. Ted sees him and immediately throws his arms open into a happy hug.

"Scoob!!" He yells to Bill, pretending to be in character for the moment. Bill responds with a 'Raggy!' and the two embrace with a smile.

When the two part, Bill looks over your costume approvingly.

"You make an awesome Velma!" He exclaims and throws up a hand to high five. You do so, getting better at the timing these little rituals require. You glance down at your orange sweater and short red skirt, feeling happy that you've overcome your first Halloween hurdle.

Bill and Ted begin talking, and you listen in. You've always been shy, even in your own timeline you were praised for being such a quiet and obedient child. Now, you feel happy to be around such a ray of sunshine like Ted, and he is always ready to oblige your want to listen more than talk when it comes to the social situations. He makes sure to check in, even without saying, like now, when he wraps a hand around your waist and pulls you closer with a quick kiss to the top of your head. He's never shy to give you PDA, and anyone who would feel bold enough to say something about it would be met with a happy indifference by Ted.

Eventually Bill pulls Ted, who in turn pulls you, towards the semi crowded living room. A couple is just getting up, the woman dragging her man longingly to the bathroom, so Bill let's you and Ted take their seat, Bill props himself happily up on the couches arm rest. The room is filled with smoke and laughter, and Ted gives your hand a warm squeeze and a look to make sure you're doing alright. You nod.

Even though the youth culture is so seemingly bizarre on the outside in this time, you know it's not all that much different from what you and your friends did back at home. People laugh into bottles of beer around you, and you remember the taste of the bitter liquid from your time as well. Ted pulls the joint from his ear at Bill's request, and Bill offers a helpful lighter from his jeans. They both take turns inhaling what the joint has to offer, holding it in their lungs, and releasing it to the orange streaked sky. The smoke swirls in the lights and the colors stream through it like hands through hair.

Ted passes it towards you. You pause for a moment. This substance is newer to you, but you've experimented with it with Ted before. Usually you would have a puff or two in the night, especially when Ted had gotten the next day off work from the Cheesy Pretzel. You were surprised to find you actually really enjoyed the feeling of 'being high' as Ted called it. And he was right to call it that, you quickly found.

You take the joint from Ted, giving a small puff, and trying to hold it like them, but ending up in a small coughing fit. Ted laughs a little at your lightweightness and rubs your back gently and kindly. You smile back at him when you've finally recovered, happy to be leading this young, strange, life. You pass the joint back to Bill and lean into the warmth of Ted's body.

You glance at the tiny TV before the couch, feeling your mind slowly getting more relaxed and thoughts slipping away one by one. The TV glows with the image of Laurie Strode having her own smoke session with in her friends car and you feel more connected to this time. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all. Even though sometimes you wonder if it was worth it to leave your whole life behind, moments like these, enclosed in your boyfriends arms, listening to his soft and happy chatter with friends, enjoying new and exciting life experiences, washed away any doubt. You can't believe how far you've come, how much expectations of your life you've lost. The hedonist in you is pleased, certainly.

You continue to quietly watch party goers until one of Ted's favorite songs comes on. He looks to you, his usual goofy smile appearing.

"Can I have this dance, m'lady?" He says with a laugh, despite not knowing if that's from your time or not. You find his humor and effort endearing, returning his smile and taking his outstretched hand.

He pulls you up gently, and moves to where others are enjoying the makeshift dancefloor. Dancing in this time is so different for you, but you laugh and try to follow Ted's movements, jumping about with him. He teaches you how to head bang to the fast song, his long hair a flurry about his fast when he does it. You copy him the best you can, but what matters most is how alive you feel right now. Whatever shell you had crawled into and begun to live in from your time was slowly cracking here, and Ted was the perfect light shining through those cracks.

You two continue to dance along to metal and rock, and you feel lighter with each jump. Soon enough, Ted pulls you in by your hips and places his forehead to yours as another song ends. Someone has to flip the tape, so the sound of the rest of the party is a blur in both your ears. He holds you close, obviously a bit worn out, but happy to be having such fun with you. You lean into his and he tilts your chin up for a kiss from his soft lips. You love when he does this, you had never been kissed before you met Ted, but now you feel as if he breathes more life into you with each one.

Ted pulls away and gazes into your eyes with a softness about him. He mouthes that he loves you, but when you miss what he said, he kisses up your neck to your ear, telling you his love with each kiss. You blush hard as he does this, shivers across your skin. You feel goosebumps under your orange sweater and have to adjust your fake glasses when he's done. He is blushing just as much as you, and you are grateful to be here with him.

The night continues and ends with laughs and fun for you and Ted, and you slowly find yourself not needing to think about the past, or future. You're here, in the present, with someone who loves you. That's all that matters.

[haloberry]

Okay, I have 2 ideas, choose the one you like more:

1. Minecraft Wardens, surprisingly, are not interested in music. They do not care for music discs and will not even pay attention to a jukebox playing somewhere. Tommy is, however, only half-Warden, and though he grew up in the Ancient City and never heard music, he is immediately attracted to it when he hears it for the first time.

Meanwhile Tubbo just wanted to check out the new music disc he found next to a zombie spawner.

Or this one

2. Tommy wakes up in a new world. He has no memories of his past. There’s a weird green guy next to him. But his attention is immediately caught by another guy, a goat hybrid, in a bit of a distance.

or Tommy and Tubbo inevitably fall in love again after the server restart.

Doing Warden one bc I wanted an excuse for Tubbo to dance

Also, this got long soooo

——

Long ago, in the deepest parts if the world, was a society long thought to have been annihilated.

The world saw them as beasts, and was quick to push them out of the sunlight. To the point, they adapted to thrived in the darkness and grew their homes from their bodies.

Legend says the souls of their enemies were trapped inside the bodies of the monsters themselves, and that the bigger the monster, the more souls they’ve killed.

They were called Wardens, for the very reason they protect the underground from the same people they put them there.

Though, maybe one boy can change that.

Seeing as the boy was not necessarily a true Warden, but, one all the same. He might just be the key to reconciliation with the Human Race.

And the human boy to find him was none other Tubbo Underscore.

Tubbo was an ordinary villager, one who apprenticed under the Wondering Merchant Iskall, but was a Blacksmith’s kid.

He had taken fascination with the unknown, that, if he couldn’t understand something, then he simply just doesn’t know enough.

Luckily, he was a learner.

And one day, while the Sun was high in the sky and it being too hot to stay indoors, Tubbo decided maybe a trip to the caves would do him some good.

Caves were cool. Both in their nature and their temperature, and seeing as how it was either go exploring or return back to working with the blast furnace, it’s obvious he chose the former.

At least, that was his thought process before he slipped on cobweb and was now dangling above an open zombie spawner.

With a scream, he was tugging and tugging on the webs to try and hold on, but he was too heavy for the rather featherweight silk was surely slipping.

Luckily, or rather destined, his voice was heard.

р̴̨͉̹̝̟̥̦̯͚̭͓̹͂́̚͝ͅя̶̨̛̹͙̦̝͎̦͎̐͝д̵̞͙͍̫̳̮̐́о̶̧̭͇͚̺͇͖͇̬͂̾̈́́̒͆͐͘в̷̢̼̫̟̩͚̰̝̺̮͕̟̄̚͝о̴̭̟͙̦̣̮̜͔̝̮̹͙̒̈̈́̒̃̒̿́̔́̓̚͝͠ͅй̴̧̨̪̙͎̖̱͍͙͉̖͚͕̱̬̇́́̕͝, or “Tommy”, heard him.

Now, let it be known the Warden knew it was dangerous to follow unknown voices, was taught and raised to never go near a human without the intent to kill, but give him a break he was really bored that day.

Plus, how Dangerous can humans be if their own father was one?

Before he could argue with himself, a different sound was ricocheting along the walls of the cave.

It.. was loud. Loud enough that even the sensors were whirring and wiggling next to him.

But the noise itself was something he never heard before. It was rhythmic, tranquil, yet nowhere near the sound of running water.

See, water was actually one of Tommy’s favorite sounds, just behind the soft humming of his mother’s souls, but this one?

Tommy couldn’t place it, but it was definitely speeding up the ranks.

Sadly, Tommy is not a multitasker, and by the time he finally gets out of his own head, he was already in the same vicinity as the noise maker.

And, it’s beautiful.

The noise maker, seems to be copying the rhythm of the sounds their making, in maybe a killing dance? If the remains of zombies and experience on the ground is any indicator for the carnage this human committed.

But, the most frightening thing Tommy felt at the moment was it’s bared teeth.

Did they rip apart the zombies with their teeth?¿

It was hypnotizing in the way the noise maker was making that serene calling, yet was still reeling in their features from their latest hunt.

It drew Tommy in, and before he knew it, he was standing right in plain view of them.

Tubbo wanted to scream. But the fear had stun-locked every inch of his body and there was no air left in his lungs to even whimper.

He couldn’t even run when the Warden came closer and picked him up, both shulk claws at his waist as he was twisted and turned around like he was being inspected.

The silliness from earlier all disappearing as his adrenaline came back at full forced.

He scrambled, kicking and punching trying to escape from the arms of the Warden to not avail.

He could feel the claws inch deeper on his sides, and started fighting harder because oh void, any harder and the claws could dig into his skin and disembowel him—

He was put down, gently..

The beast, which was lankier than he initially realized, was now looking entranced by the jukebox.

After escaping the webs, Tubbo had managed to light the spawner and finish off the rest of the zombies, leaving him to loot the chests.

Thats when he had found it; a rare Cat disc that he hasn’t seen since early childhood, considering his father sold theirs for more iron.

He had really cared for that disc, so finding one just sounding too good to be true.

Which, makes sense, considering he now has a Warden in front of him.

A Warden.. that picked him up like a ragdoll.. and put him back down without killing him..

A Warden.. that doesn’t look like a typical Warden, that also has the most prettiest blue-shaded Blonde hair he has ever seen…

A Warden.. that just turned towards him and shined their eyes brighter then the torch next to him..

Oh boy..

[candlemouse]

I posted a new fic that explores Marla and Scott Sorenson’s experience from losing their daughter, being kidnapped, forcibly educated about magic, and finally reuniting with their family.

It will be three chapters and end up about 10k words.

It’s been really fun to write!

Here is an excerpt:

Silence filled the house. The TV sat dormant, pots and pans did not clang, and there was no bickering over the remote. Just Marla alone on the couch.

The peace and quiet she had always prayed for.

It was 6 o’clock on a Sunday. Normally, dinner would be takeout from the steakhouse downtown as Marla had always maintained that a day of rest meant no cooking. She would force the kids to eat dinner at the table, and Kendra would stress out about an assignment she had due the next day while Seth flung peas at her. Inevitably, someone would yell and the other would storm out of the room.

Marla would be pulling her hair out trying to get them to settle down and wishing that, for just once, their house could be peaceful and quiet and not full of bickering and loud noises.

She had gotten her wish.

Her house was silent.

It only took burying her baby girl under six feet of muddy dirt, and shipping her son off to her in-laws.

Great. Amazing. This was exactly what she had prayed for.

No tears fell. She just stared at the floor.

Scott was somewhere. She didn’t know. Probably grief counseling or the grocery store. Either way, Marla couldn’t seem to care enough to remember.

She was a passive participant in life at the moment. It was better that way. If she had to go back in the stream of things—back to “normal”—she’d have to have quiet Sunday dinners.

No, it was better when nothing happened at all.

The train horn interrupted her line of thoughts. It was a faithful thing that she disliked. It came every night at eleven pm. She could never get to sleep when she wanted because the blasted horn would wake her up.

While in some crevice of Marla’s brain, she registered the oddness of Scott staying out past eleven, she couldn’t stop the onslaught of grief that prevented her from thinking about anything but her baby girl. It wouldn’t be right to go about her day without Kendra on her mind. To Marla, that was the final goodbye she dreaded. The point when she forgot about her baby girl.

Ironically, the funeral had offered the briefest reprieve in her thoughts as she had to sort money around and calculate coffin costs—monotonous, mindless things.

But, the funeral had already occurred a few days ago. Well, at least Marla thought it was a few days ago. Not much recently had been cataloged in her memory.

All she knew was that there was a new headstone in the cemetery and that her baby girl was under it.

Parents weren’t supposed to grieve for their kids. That wasn’t the deal Marla had made with God when she conceived.

Motherhood was supposed to be the most amazing thing in the world. God-given. And it was, at times. But, this was never supposed to be part of it.

Why did God take her baby girl?

The priest had tried to explain to her. Euphemisms ran into mantras ran into the most meaningless crap she’d ever heard.

Their family went to church every Sunday. They praised God. They said grace before every meal. Marla had sat on her knees every night like a good girl and prayed for her family.

Her baby girl taken from her. Who did it?

The private detective didn’t know. She didn’t know. Her son didn’t know. The coroner had sent a report with confusing details, but then the next day, sent a clean bill of death.

A stroke.

Marla guessed that was it. A stroke of luck. Something no one could predict but God. Bad karma.

Scott tried to pull her to the grief-counseling meetings. It didn’t work. She didn’t want to feel these feelings and live with them. She wanted them gone!

She wanted Kendra back. She wanted her children.

Pain constricted her chest and she couldn’t breathe anymore.

It was like this now. She got sudden pains and constrictions she had used to associate with sadness and anger, but she no longer felt those feelings.

It was all nothing.

There was a knock at the door.

How late was it? Eleven? Well, who cared. Time didn’t matter anymore.

Obligated, Marla approached and peeked through the peep-hole.

There was a skinny looking man holding tupperware. He looked around and then knocked again.

Oh, well. As Marla sighed and opened the door, she was faintly aware of the consternation she would have had a week ago if she had answered the door with unwashed hair, pajamas, and days-old makeup. She couldn’t imagine ever thinking those thoughts again.

“What do you want?”

The man smiled understandingly at her and held out his container. “I’m sorry for your loss. Kendra was an amazing student. I brought a home-cooked meal for you and your husband.”

Marla squinted at him. He must’ve been one of Kendra’s teachers, but she didn’t recognize him. But, that didn’t mean much. Kendra had had six teachers. This could be the one Marla could never remember the name of.

She took the Tupperware and nodded her head in thanks. It was the most she could do, because she didn’t want to talk to him at all.

“Have a good night. If you need anything, I can have the school organize a drive.”

“That’s alright. Take care.”

Marla closed the door and opened the container. It smelled good.

A week ago, if Marla had suddenly received an influx of meals from the community, she would have kept meticulous count and ate them in the order she had received them as to avoid spoilage.

But, Marla was different now so she slid down the door frame to a seated position and used her hands to eat the chicken wings.

As she tore off the skin with her teeth, she tried to place the flavor. She liked Buffalo, but this wasn’t that. It wasn’t bad, it was just different.

Before she began eating, she hadn’t realized how hungry she was. It made sense, though. She hadn’t eaten since she had woken up, and that had been a long time ago.

Her original intention to share with her husband faded as she finished the last of the wings. Her fingers were sticky and she simply licked the sauce off, another thing she would never have done a week ago.

As she set the container aside, she resumed her meaningless staring. Exhaustion began to tug at her eyelids, and she had no will to deny it. She slumped against the wall and closed her eyes.

There was a knock at the door and then another, but by then, she was too tired to move. And by the time the door opened and the skinny man stepped in, Marla was gone to the world.

Continue reading this chapter on Ao3 by clicking this link!

[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

August 8th

Starting today off with a newspaper clipping, pasted by Mina in her journal:

One of the greatest and suddenest storms on record has just been experienced here, with results both strange and unique.

🎶 STOOOoooOOOOOoooOOOOORRRM 🎶

The approach of sunset was so very beautiful, so grand in its masses of splendidly-coloured clouds, that there was quite an assemblage on the walk along the cliff in the old churchyard to enjoy the beauty. Before the sun dipped below the black mass of Kettleness, standing boldly athwart the western sky, its downward way was marked by myriad clouds of every sunset-colour—flame, purple, pink, green, violet, and all the tints of gold; with here and there masses not large, but of seemingly absolute blackness, in all sorts of shapes, as well outlined as colossal silhouettes.

Don’t you love some subtle imagery about the end of a world and the beginning of another.

The only sail noticeable was a foreign schooner with all sails set, which was seemingly going westwards. The foolhardiness or ignorance of her officers was a prolific theme for comment whilst she remained in sight, and efforts were made to signal her to reduce sail in face of her danger.

People continue to try and help each other 🥺

Then without warning the tempest broke. With a rapidity which, at the time, seemed incredible, and even afterwards is impossible to realize, the whole aspect of nature at once became convulsed. The waves rose in growing fury, each overtopping its fellow, till in a very few minutes the lately glassy sea was like a roaring and devouring monster. White-crested waves beat madly on the level sands and rushed up the shelving cliffs; others broke over the piers, and with their spume swept the lanthorns of the lighthouses which rise from the end of either pier of Whitby Harbour. The wind roared like thunder, and blew with such force that it was with difficulty that even strong men kept their feet, or clung with grim clasp to the iron stanchions. […] To add to the difficulties and dangers of the time, masses of sea-fog came drifting inland—white, wet clouds, which swept by in ghostly fashion, so dank and damp and cold that it needed but little effort of imagination to think that the spirits of those lost at sea were touching their living brethren with the clammy hands of death, and many a one shuddered as the wreaths of sea-mist swept by. At times the mist cleared, and the sea for some distance could be seen in the glare of the lightning, which now came thick and fast, followed by such sudden peals of thunder that the whole sky overhead seemed trembling under the shock of the footsteps of the storm.

I love depictions of the sea as a monster… 🌊🔱

On the summit of the East Cliff the new searchlight was ready for experiment, but had not yet been tried. The officers in charge of it got it into working order, and in the pauses of the inrushing mist swept with it the surface of the sea. Once or twice its service was most effective, as when a fishing-boat, with gunwale under water, rushed into the harbour, able, by the guidance of the sheltering light, to avoid the danger of dashing against the piers. As each boat achieved the safety of the port there was a shout of joy from the mass of people on shore, a shout which for a moment seemed to cleave the gale and was then swept away in its rush.

PEOPLE!!!!! CAN BE GOOD!!!!!

The wind suddenly shifted to the north-east, and the remnant of the sea-fog melted in the blast; and then, mirabile dictu, between the piers, leaping from wave to wave as it rushed at headlong speed, swept the strange schooner before the blast, with all sail set, and gained the safety of the harbour. The searchlight followed her, and a shudder ran through all who saw her, for lashed to the helm was a corpse, with drooping head, which swung horribly to and fro at each motion of the ship.

Wonderful.

But, strangest of all, the very instant the shore was touched, an immense dog sprang up on deck from below, as if shot up by the concussion, and running forward, jumped from the bow on the sand. Making straight for the steep cliff, where the churchyard hangs over the laneway to the East Pier so steeply that some of the flat tombstones—"thruff-steans" or "through-stones," as they call them in the Whitby vernacular—actually project over where the sustaining cliff has fallen away, it disappeared in the darkness, which seemed intensified just beyond the focus of the searchlight.

Wonderfuler.

The man was simply fastened by his hands, tied one over the other, to a spoke of the wheel. Between the inner hand and the wood was a crucifix, the set of beads on which it was fastened being around both wrists and wheel, and all kept fast by the binding cords. The poor fellow may have been seated at one time, but the flapping and buffeting of the sails had worked through the rudder of the wheel and dragged him to and fro, so that the cords with which he was tied had cut the flesh to the bone.

Wonderfulest.

It is needless to say that the dead steersman has been reverently removed from the place where he held his honourable watch and ward till death—a steadfastness as noble as that of the young Casabianca—and placed in the mortuary to await inquest.

NO NO NO BURN HIM CUT HIS HEAD SLAM A STAKE IN HIS HEART

Now back to the girls:

Lucy was very restless all night, and I, too, could not sleep. The storm was fearful, and as it boomed loudly among the chimney-pots, it made me shudder. When a sharp puff came it seemed to be like a distant gun. Strangely enough, Lucy did not wake; but she got up twice and dressed herself. Fortunately, each time I awoke in time and managed to undress her without waking her, and got her back to bed. It is a very strange thing, this sleep-walking, for as soon as her will is thwarted in any physical way, her intention, if there be any, disappears, and she yields herself almost exactly to the routine of her life.

Everything is A-OK! 👍

Somehow I felt glad that Jonathan was not on the sea last night, but on land. But, oh, is he on land or sea? Where is he, and how? I am getting fearfully anxious about him. If I only knew what to do, and could do anything!

WHERE ARE YOU JONATHAN

And did the old man, in fact, die?

< Prev 🦇 Next >

[miminmimikyu]

Prodigy episodes 19-20

This series has many moving parts on top of a time travel based plot that spans 40 episodes and yet it never needs to do to a “previously on…” Any reminders just appear organically.

Ascencia exhibiting peak “if I can’t have it no one can!!” behaviour

I really really like that Prodigy makes use of the current state of starflleet defined by Star Trek Picard to create this situation where the crew is alone!

Holo Janeway berating Chakotay took me by surprise!! She never did that with the kids

So Chakotay and the Protostar were lost 2 years ago, I missed that info! And the year the Protostar crashed onto Tars Lamora really is unknown! I was trying to figure that one out since episode 2, but they didn't know either!

But to get back to Chakotay’s timeline: so he left on the protostar in 2382, just 4-5 years after getting home!!! I’m absolutely fascinated by what possessed him to do that? I would have pegged someone like Harry or even Janeway as a person who couldn’t settle back into normal life and needed to experience horrors (, new) to distract from horrors (, old). Unless... something particularly bad happened around that time and Chakotay would rather take a deep space mission rather than hang around. On the plus side, that probably means while he lived on the island for 10 years he only lost 8 years compared to everyone else.

Oh no, Holo Janeway’s existential dread! I really wasn’t expecting that since she was so ok with blowing herself up at the end of S1. But I forgot that that time she wasn't losing 10 years of Chakotay. (seriously.. what happened during those 10 years?)

Omg omg omg it’s going to be a causal loop????? Maj’el mentioning the Bell Riots and First Contact in episode 3, Dal & co being the people who freed Chakotay in the first place… that’s all foreshadowing this??? :D

Of course there's Bad Future Solum and the info that Janeway dug out of the Protostar wreckage with Chakotay piloting the ship that doesn’t match up, but I suppose it’s more wibbly wobbly timey wimey than just one loop-- the Mirror episode (& Wesley's explanation) showed all those alternate timelines existing next to each other after all!

I think I forgot to write this for episode 9-10 but i was reminded of this again: it’s so brilliant to have the Prodigy kids helped by the OG Star Trek prodigy child Wesley Crusher!

This episode is really full throttling it on the visuals, woooow!! That visual representation of finding thr final wormhole!!!!!!!! magic!!!

back to the future moment with that ripped cable!!!!

Holy fuck Murf ripped off a head!!!!jesus this battle is so tense! I almost thought Dal would be blasted to the past there! And Gwyn’s fight was so exciting. “Gwyndala our will is yours" ;_;

I like that this final confrontation ended with Ascencia's own actions taking her down: She focused too much on her revenge and own idea of what Solum should be and abandoned any sort of alternative. Her actions made life on Solum actively worse, thereby alienating people, who became unwilling to follow her (including her young optimistic self). But Gwyndala did get that support and she used it not to hurt Ascencia, but to disarm her. It is so beautiful that the first two people who came to her aid were the young versions of the two last survivors of Solum. Young Ascencia and Ilthuran saw what this revenge quest would turn them into (Ascencia saw first-hand and Ilthuran saw it in the damage he inflicted/would inflict on his own daughter) and that was enough for them to end the cycle. And after being disarmed, Ascencia's final downfall was not at the hands of Gwyn and her reclaimed heirloom, but it was that she still wouldn't let go of her revenge and it literally burnt her out!!

Oh my god I am only like 5 minutes into episode 20 and I'm already in pieces.. is this what it’s like to get everything you want??? (from a season finale)

(The rest of the episode I was just frozen in amazement)

"Once more into the breach!" I;m dying I'm dying The whales navigating!!!! The wormhole interior and those temporal echoes my mouth is open it’s so beautiful!! Holo Janeway copied to an EMH backup module!! That flashback montage aaahhhhhhfjdhhhhhhhhhhh screaming crying throwing up The final returning of the combadge !!!!!! being able to communicate with each other brought all of this together aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh cutting beginning of the S1 loop off with them touching the combadge i can't

Wesley looks just the right amount of excited-deranged when he says "Things yet to come.. wondrous and terrible things…"

First contact with Solum!!!!!!!!!! Gywn finally gets to let go of that weight!!!!

This made me let out one staccato scream of laughter. That better not be libellous, doc:

Wesley going to see Beverly after who knows how many years is so lovely! And him meeting and smiling at Jack! At least was able to tell Beverly her secret to one person. But lmao this means even Wesley didn't/couldn't convince her to tell Picard. Also I guess the federation going to hell might have been the trigger for her to go into hiding properly.

I cannot picture Janeway retiring (she needs a break, yes, but giving up the stars?). But having her say “don’t we all deserve a new beginning?” when you know what’s coming is heartbreaking.

The Prodigy team has absolutely knocked it out of the park with the First Contact scene. What a contrast between Zero and Maj’el being so cute together and then the breaking news. Then the shutdown of the schools, ending scientific exploration and ushering the era of protectionism and turning back on the Federation’s ideals. It was like air leaving the room. What I like about this portrayal is that we've seen many horrible events in Star Trek but never from the point of view of people so young. They're watching as their entire future might be taken away from them.

(Tangent: and for what??? not that attacks like these are ever justified and if anything S1 Picard is big on “fear of the unknown makes people make the most stupid yet devastating decisions” but man… to torpedo your own people’s [Romulans] survival because you and your secret organization failed reading comprehension of a message in a language you don’t speak , then got mega racist about it? Such a stupid senseless thing to do. Which was the point. I know. Still.)

This turned into another tangent that got too long that I'll post later but Janeway putting the kids on the new Protostar and sending them away probably was the best thing she could have done for them... Too bad for Maj'el's Nova squadron friends...

I wonder if we’ll get to see what Vice Admiral Janeway and Captain Chakotay of Voyager-A (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) are doing in these dark times if we get a season 3 (!!!!!!!). If the Protostar kids are far away from the federation maybe they will only get a send off from them? Or an occasional message? Or will we actually see what the new status quo will make Janeway and Chakotay do?

Speaking of Janeway and Chakotay, ngl when I read months ago that J/C would be addressed in S2 I thought that their relationship would at least be verbally confirmed. But I do like the way the series portrays their relationship. To me they act like they've been in relationship for a while. I know they were already always in each other's personal space on Voyager but they seem even closer and more loving compared to then.

I'm not really into shipping and I'm also the first person to yell "PEOPLE CAN BE INTENSE AND PLATONIC" but the little things in their behaviour and the fact that S2 keeps paralleling them with Gwyn and Dal just screams "married for years" to me. (That Janeway POV shot in episode 11, what did we just walk in on?) I also get that in the end, this series is about the kids, not Janeway and Chakotay-- there's only so much you can do without overshadowing them. But it would have been nice to have an offhand mention that they're married, or that Chakotay lives at the farm when he's not on a mission (e.g. Janeway saying "You're back!" instead of "I wasn't expecting you"). (i mean I like the decision that their relationship is just existing quietly in the background, but i'm not a proper shipper. if i was i think i'd feel cheated)

ANYWAY Dal's arc!!!!!! my heart!!!! "Others came before me; others will follow."!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And captain Gwyn!!!! AAAAA. The three big character arcs this season were so nice: Dal's inferiority complex, Zero's exploration of their identity, and Gwyn dealing with her guilt and doggedness to fix everything herself to "deserve" a place to belong (-> accepting help and learning to lead and trust). Rok got her big arc in S1 but I can't wait to see more + what's in store for Jankom and Maj'el too!!

Prodigy is so good. I hope that Netflix realises what a gem they have obtained and lets it continue for many more seasons. This is seriously some of the best trek I’ve seen in years. So much care went into this series. It oozes love for Star Trek from every detail and yet it is something completely new!

Prodigy managed to tell a cohesive story over 40 episodes, carefully placing threads spanning 2 seasons, and having it come together in such a fascinating and satisfying way is incredible. The fact that this is a story that is so accessible to anyone who hasn’t seen any Star Trek, but weaves a complex story with an ensemble cast that hinges on legacy characters that nevertheless never overshadow the (new character) protagonists, is truly an impressive feat. I don't feel like a single one of the returning characters was there just for nostalgia's sake-- every single one ties into the themes of the story and plays a unique role in the kids' stories. And finally, the finale plants the seeds for the next season by seamlessly connecting to the events leading up to Picard S1. However, because the kids will be off exploring, you still have a sense of uncharted territory. Obviously I want a season 3 like you wouldn't believe, but I'm also so satisfied with how S2 ended that I don't actually mind the wait... if it means we get to see those "wondrous and terrible things" done with as much care as these last two seasons!

[stories-and-chaos]

Tarnished pt 13

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Part 13/?? Word count 1670 Cw: language]

——————

Present day

Striker was not what anyone would consider a happy imp. Oh he had things that made him happy and moments of pleasure, but even at the best of times there was a simmering rage inside. He managed to hide it beneath country charm. A veneer of strong, affable confidence helped too. Certain things could reveal that rage quickly though.

One of them was demon royalty. He didn’t much care for any higher ranking demon, but the Goetia, Deadly Sins, and the Morningstars? Well, there were magma pits in Wrath cooler than the anger he felt at blue-bloods.

Another was members of his own kind dancing to the royal’s beat. When he was feeling charitable, Striker could admit that an imp has to eat and sometimes working for the rich pricks was the best option. But Striker wasn’t often charitable either. But the ones that rubbed elbows with royalty willingly? Or even got into relationships with them? They were the same as the pompous bastards they were fucking.

So when that prissy Goetian bitch called his burner phone, he was tempted to hang up on her. But he hadn’t had many jobs lately; an imp and his hellhorse have to eat. “Depends on the work and what you’re offerin’ ma’am. I’m always lookin’ for opportunities.” Then she told him what she was looking for. And the fee for the initial job? “Well, sounds like you were right ma’am; I’d be glad to oblige.”

“Marvelous. Get up to Pride. My Hound will meet you.” There was a click and the call cut off. “And a g’day to you too bitch,” Striker growled to dead air. He always had saddlebags prepped to move out quickly. Most of his jobs needed to be done in a timely manner, so having gear ready to go meant his clients could rely on his speed.

He saddled his coal black Hellhorse. The stallion only gave him a little trouble with the bridle today. “Yeah, I know Bombproof, you’ve been liking the easy life past few weeks. But we gotta get your dead bodies from somewhere.”

Once out of the lair, he urged Bombproof into a run. Riding was one of those few things that made him happy after all. He and Bombproof had been together for years and he was so used to the steed he barely had to think about the mechanics of riding.

Which meant he could focus on what was coming. He wasn’t lying when he told that royal he’d be glad to oblige. One blue-blooded bitch paying him to fuck up shit for another? And for said royal’s imp boy toy? Well, he hadn’t heard anything so good in years.

Add on the possibility of killing a prince? Striker’s glee as he rode out of Wrath wasn’t just from the fun of Bombproof racing near his top speed.

He met up with a middle aged Hellhound on the outskirts of Pentagram City. His new employer wasn’t about to meet him in person, but that was to be expected. Striker could keep that rage to a low level over the expected snub…for now.

His immediate instruction was to tail a couple of the Goetia’s servants if they left the estate. His employer suspected something unusual was going on with her husband and his plaything. She wanted information and while he was ultimately a hit man, Striker had experience following targets.

In addition, she wanted him to get intel on the boy toy’s activities off the grounds. Princey let his side piece have way more freedom than other royals expected. Striker was to find out why, since she wasn’t going to pay him for just sitting around until the servants moved.

He had at least one safe house in every Ring. For some it was little more than a cave or a bolt hole, but it was somewhere to lay low if he needed. In Pride, the most convenient one was a cavern just outside the biggest city. It was big enough to accommodate himself and Bombproof and let out to a blasted plain that had some hunting for the stallion. Not quite enough to keep him fed, but enough to offset Striker’s daily expenses.

In the four days before he got word that his current targets were moving, he learned a lot about this imp traitor and his master. Over the past year, Striker had heard rumors about an imp starting up an assassination operation, catering to Sinners in Pride. He’d held some vague respect for one of his kind willing to start their own business. That business being murder was even more intriguing.

So his disappointment when he found out that the rumors were true, but the imp in question was a royal plaything? He hadn’t needed to buy any extra carcasses for Bombproof that day. He didn’t know why this Blitzø was running a murder-for-hire business, but that wasn’t his job. He just reported this to his employer, by way of her Hellhound.

He passed on some scraps of information about the company and employees while we waited. Before he could get too impatient, Aster, the Hound that was his contact, texted him that the two imp servants were leaving. The older demon sent a picture of the pair as the left the estate so Striker could identify them.

They took public transport but his hideout was close enough to catch up. He took a seat a few rows behind the pair. His country style didn’t really fit into the city, but there were enough Wrathian imps in the Pentagram that nobody gave him more than a quick glance.

So he was able to follow the servants, feeling likely he was watching a couple on a date. They were certainly pawing at each other like it was. He got off at the same stop as them and did his best to not attract notice as he followed them, roughly two thirds of a block behind.

They didn’t seem to pick up on his presence. Instead they were flirting enough that he felt like a voyeur. It didn’t help that they turned onto a street lit by sanguine streetlights. The multitude of sexual signs along the street made the pale imp stop in horrified fascination. His targets strode into one of the businesses. The vibrant red and teal sign above the door read “Slick Seduction.” Wrapping around the teal letters were red and magenta tentacles. The sign even had fluid dripping from the suckers.

“Why is it always a sex thing?!” Striker hissed. He was not going into a whorehouse, no matter how good the pay was. His burner phone was an older model, so the camera was barely adequate. He had to be across the street to get a decent picture of the sign. He sent it to Aster, then found a bar nearby to wait. It was close enough that he could keep an eye on the brothel door, as long as he didn’t get too drunk.

Before long he got a message back, telling him to not indulge in the whores (as if he’d even consider it) and to continue to tail them. He ended up being at that bar for hours. He played a few rounds of darts with the patrons to keep suspicion at bay. The servants didn’t leave until almost four in the morning. The bars in Hell didn’t have closing times and last calls like he’d heard of in the mortal realm.

So Striker was a bit tipsy as he followed the now disheveled imps. It was pretty obvious they hadn’t gone anywhere else in the interim. They seemed to have indulged plenty in the whores as well. They took another public transport route back to the estate. Since Striker had gotten on at the same stop, he got off when they did.

They still were all over each other as they stumbled past the palace gates. He scowled at the luxurious building and manicured grounds as he kept walking. He sent a quick text that the servants hadn’t gone elsewhere before heading back to their master’s residence.

The early morning chill contrasted his rising anger. What the fuck had he gotten into? Following around a couple of weak imps as debauched as their master, all for a paycheck? The stuffed shirts still got to be waited on, claw and hoof, in their fancy ass palace with more money and power than they could ever use. And here he was camping out in a cave, waiting for a royal bitch to give him orders.

Said royal bitch called as he was getting ready for some shut eye after the long night. “Excellent work darling,” came her cultured tones, dripping with satisfaction. “You’ve done better than expected, good boy. Your payment has been transferred, along with a bonus. You can head back to Wrath for the time being. I’ll call when the next step is ready. Ta!”

Striker hissed in frustration. The prissy bitch hadn’t given him a chance to get a word in. He resolved to stay out of what noble nonsense she was up to once he got back to Wrath.

That resolve didn’t last longer than a day however. Once he’d gotten some sleep and rode Bombproof to their preferred Ring, he checked his account. The new number made his jaw drop. She gave him that big of a bonus, all for a night of stalking? She was either an idiot or she really wanted to stick it to her husband. Probably both.

A message from Aster later in the day had a rough outline of the next phase. The Goetia wanted him to ingratiate himself to the prince’s boy toy. Aster provided half a dozen options for how to do so, but the upcoming Harvest Moon Festival seemed the most promising to Striker. And the promised payment was just as big as the one he just received.

“Well, shit. Looks like I’m on retainer for her royal pain in the ass.”

——————

<<First <Prev Next>

A/N: Not gonna lie, Striker’s been the hardest character for me to get a handle on. I know he’s a fan favorite so I hope I did alright. And hopefully this little detour was enjoyable. We’ll be getting back to Loona’s arc in the next section.

[ev-rebound]

The Last One Chapter 3: Welcome

“And you are certain it's not a threat?” Towers asks over the ships long distance comms. 

Rouge nods, “Shadow says he couldn’t sense any aggression coming from him and he hasn’t tried anything since he got on the ship.” 

Towers sucks in a breath then asks, “Do you at least have any clue as to what was done to him?”

“According to Omega’s scan there’s no chaos energy in him, but he has wisp DNA that appears to give him explosive abilities”

“I see well the moment your back here get him to a containment cell, got it?” Rouge winces but she knows its for the best, “Got it”

With that the ship’s thrusters come to life and it then begins to make its journey back to Mobius. As it does an invisible figure crawls out of a hole in the asteroid it stays veiled watching the ship with narrowed eyes.

-

Several hours later the ship begins to reenter the atmosphere of mobius. Blast was asleep so Shadow is up at the controls with his Teammates. He’s spent most of the trip, “silently brooding” as Rouge would put it, and that’s not too far off from the truth. 

He’s spent the whole trip thinking about Blast, another Black arm experiment like him and Eclipse, yet not like either of them as it was clear Blast hadn’t seen much action.

And just unlike him Blast was innocent, anyone could see that from the way he moved and looked around at everything like a curious yet unsure child. Shadow couldn’t but be reminded of himself when he was still…young. He hopes that whatever Towers has in store he’ll at least have Blast treated well. 

“This is Team Dark, we are about to exit the atmosphere and are requesting access to land” Rouge says through the ships comms. “Access granted” A voice says not long after. With that Rouge guides the ship back towards the GUN facility that the ship was originally housed in. Inside there’s several guards with weapons alongside drones all waiting, in the center of them all is a square cell of reinforced glass, Blast’s new cage.

Shadow’s quills bristle at the sight but he knows it's for the best, and hopefully a temporary arrangement. Rouge opens the ships rear door while Shadow and Omega go to get Blast. The younger black arm is still asleep, thankfully, so Omega picks him up and takes down to the glass cell. 

Many of the guards tense up and stare at Blast but he remains asleep as Omega carefully sets him inside and shuts the door. 

-

A while later Blast wakes up and stretches, “mm..huh?!’ He looks around with wide eyes and realizes he’s no longer on the ship but in some glass cube. On his wrists and ankles are silver rings with a glowing blue stripe running all around each one. He quickly stands his spines beginning to rise when a voice calms him, “Blast! Don’t” “Shadow..?” Blast realizes that the hedgehog is standing right in front of him on the other side of the glass, “What…what is this? Where am I?”

Shadow sighs, “A containment cell, you're going to be held here for a while..”

“Why? What did I do?!” Shadow winces at the fear in his voice, “Just something we have to do, but you’re safe ok…I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise”

Blast sits his tail lashing, “Ok…”

“I’ll be right back” Shadow turns and leaves a few minutes later he returns with a tray that has a plate of meat on it and a bowl of water. He slides it through a small door in the cell towards Blast. “Here, you should eat” Blast nods and walks over to the tray he eats the meat easily tearing off chunks of it with his fangs then drinks all the water. 

“Thanks Shadow…” 

Shadow gives him a small smile, “Your welcome…just behave and you’ll be out of here before you know it Blast”

Blast looks up at him, orange eyes full of fear and confusion, he just nods then goes over a corner of the room and curls up with his back to Shadow.

With that Shadow turns and leaves the contaminant cells room for now, Towers waits there for him, “Well?” “He’s anxious…but he’ll behave”

“Good, let’s keep it that way”

Shadow grits his teeth and stalks past Towers, “Yes sir” First/Next/Prev

[valahelart]

what do you believe that might happen in Sinsmas?

Hi there! Honestly up until now I had lots of ideas of how things might go, especially since I thought Sinsmas would be the moment Blitz and Stolas would meet again after Apology Tour. Unlike many other people who'd correctly theorized Stolas would lose his title and powers eventually, I'd never thought it would really happen, especially so soon - so the end of Mastermind completely took me by surprise! So the little I can think about is just based on the tiny clips in the trailer we still haven't seen.

- First, I wonder if Sinsmas will basically pick up the morning after the end of Mastermind or if there will be a small time jump. First option would be interesting to see how Stolas and Blitz act around each now that the adrenaline has died down a bit. The time jump could show how they've started to adapt to that new routine, but it feels a bit unlikely to me.

- I assume Blitz and Stolas will go to the palace, not to try to conquer it back since basically every powerful demon is against them, but maybe to take something back (the grimoire? some belongings?), or potentially get Octavia back if she's there? Andrealphus definitely seems to be keeping them from going in, and will attack them.

- Clearly Octavia will be upset at her father (and understandably so, from her point of view) for "choosing" Blitz over her. From where I stand, it seems unlikely she immediately forgives him, so I either see her ask for more time to think about it, or completely shutting him out (ow).

- I've also seen Sallie May's VA say she'd be back for this episode, so considering the title, I assume it could feature a Christmas-themed B plot which would gather several characters together? The episode could either go back and forth between the Stolas/Blitz plot and that, OR put the drama first and maybe end on a more relaxed, festive note?

- Which leaves Stolas and Blitz's relationship. Again, the end of Mastermind completely blindsided me, I didn't expect Blitz to be so "open" about his feelings for Stolas, even if it's clear he still has things he wants to say. The way I see it, it's almost inevitable that he will fully confess, but it could go two different ways: 1) Stolas is still too shaken by what happened, especially if it goes badly with Octavia, and pulls back (evil option, though understandable), or 2) he's perhaps in a more "stable" headspace and will react accordingly, and they'll "get together".

Honestly I have no idea. The show is highly unpredictable at times and it keeps surprising me in the best ways (plus we have very little footage of Sinsmas to piece together, unlike the previous episodes). I can see both options happen:

- the show is very good at using the tragic aspect of missed opportunities and devastating yearning, so the emotional blast of Blitz finally being ready to have a real relationship with Stolas only for Stolas to step back, would be extremely powerful.

- on the other hand, the show is clearly about healing from your past and seeking a better future for yourself. Blitz has recently gone through insanely intense experiences that made him reflect a lot on his behavior. It would be really devastating to see it all crumble down around him again. Besides, it's not like he and Stolas finally being a couple will erase every single problem they have, and the next arc could focus on them figuring out how to make it work.

So yeah, I have no idea what will happen exactly, the show is too unpredictable and layered to be certain - and that's a good thing! Leaves even more excitement for what's to come! 👀❄️

[pilichainartandmemes]

Malevolent fic - Big Fat Taco

They had reached the terminus, enemies on the plateform and on their tail. His aim cannot be trusted and his eyes stutter at mirages. So down, down, down it goes.

I just think that if you won’t dig into a guy with your bare hands for your apocalypse rock, you don’t deserve it. ;) The idea would't leave me and so here is the result of four intense days of writing before the season four finale comes out later today(well tomorrow in my case). Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did putting it together!

Warnings: Canon typical violence, gore, non consensual platonic touching, major character death and choking.

Cross posted on AO3

“ I… I think we’ve built enough distance between us and them… Care to explain what I’m supposed to do with this rock now”, panted Arthur leaning against the wall absolutely lost. The faster they got rid of it, the sooner they could leave this blasted place. Because of course Noel had to find out at the worst possible time about John’s past. Of course they lost the bloody gun while escaping the detective and the cultists. Of course Larson found out where Oscar was the same way he did for Daniel and-

“ -thur! Arthur! What is the point of me explaining if you don’t fucking listen? We are going to open a portal. Just like how we dealt with Scratch.”

“ … That’s it," laughed Arthur weakly, "the grand end to the order of the fallen star comes down to throwing a rock into whatever hell we find. Then we hope whatever’s on the other side can’t use it? What if we unleash whatever power is inside the Black Stone? Exactly just like what happened with Scratch!”

“I don’t hear YOU coming up with any ideas! We still need to escape this place and k- clearly many cultists so we might as well… jump in?”

“Jesus fucking christ, John... I didn’t miss taking very literal leaps of faith into the unknown with you.”

“Likewise but with our luck it was a matter of time.”

“Indeed it was. Shame we don’t have the pages but I assume you wouldn’t propose this if you didn’t remember. Am I right, John?”

“Of course I do! Now let me focus… Sed obscuratus nox quaeso mundenetis…”

“Sed obscuratus nox quaeso mundenetis…”

“Impertus meter amicum allundem num.”

“Impertus meter amicum allundem num.”

“Depli mon faenis de tua quae… quae frequens? No. Frenusculi ? No it wasn’t that either !”

“John! I thought you said you knew the incantation!”

“YES I KNOW IT! Damnit Arthur, you say that as if you don’t forget to keep our eyes open for me every day!”

“Fine! Fine! For both our sakes think quickly!” And yet as he retorted back, Arthur began to calculate their odds. From past experiences those bouts of amnesia seemed temporary so they could still manage to open the portal. However with the delay and more people seeing where the stone went, just a throw would not work. Would the cultists even hesitate at the idea of entering the portal? If those madmen didn’t, they would have to fight for every second. Okay so they needed protection or at least something to keep their opponents at bay.

Tuning out John’s frustrated cusses at the Latin language itself, he patted their bag and pockets. Starting a fire was a last resort and could wait until they had an actual escape window. The bestiary wouldn’t be of help against humans. That left them with their unlucky dagger, regardless of John’s insistence to get rid of it. The weapon wouldn’t win against a gun or more than two cultists. But it was their also very last resort…  Should they lose it in the scuffle or…

What if Arthur missed again? It wouldn't be the first time his shoddy aim betrayed them when it mattered the most. They would not have another chance to get the stone and he doubted John would accept retreat after dragging them all the way to New York for it. The moment they lost sight, ha, of the rock was the moment Larson won. They needed a hiding place or at least somewhere the cultists would not think to look into…

“Oh. John no matter what continue trying to remember the spell. I just found the smartest way to get the black stone into the portal! Trust me!”

“- tua quae frenae! FRENAE! It was frenae! Wait... What do you mean smartest?” His friend asked cautiously but he didn’t have enough time to react as Arthur grabbed the rock from their pocket and shoved it down their throat.

Neither John or Arthur’s body were keen on the plan. The Black Stone burnt as he could feel it move past his throat into his… veins? Evidently the cursed object didn’t care for human biology and would go wherever it pleased. If he could just… nudge it towards… THERE!

“Arthur, are you out of your goddamn mind?! Spit it out! Come on!”

“ We’re fine… absolutely fine! Now,” just as he said that a tremor shook their spine and it took all their combined focus to not fall face first, “NOW we don’t have to worry about cultists with deft hands.”

“Do you really think given how we first met him he would stop at taking your life to get his hands on the Black Stone?” His partner growled, and yet beneath it worry laced into his every word.

“Larson? He did hurt many people but it was always through others. Like the butcher or the creature in the mines.” He retorted, confused and wondering not for the first time who scared his friend more than the King or their current enemies.

“Of course! Who else would be after us? This building is crawling, I mean, full of cultists. Surely this kind of... miscreants would have no issue going through us for this artifact.”

“Miscreants… Really, John? Anyway it doesn’t matter!” One more time. If Arthur could ignore the elephant in the room between them one more time, they would actually be fine.

They did not even finish the first sentence of the spell before a shot rang out and a sharp pain took over their right leg. Head and knee promptly were introduced with the wall that would have housed their gate. Shame Larson didn’t account for the headache or John’s yelling before starting to gloat. Another spasm coursed through as he tried to turn around. Its tango with their new wound left the duo a heap of limbs on the floor. Hopefully the view was still better than the wall. The heat that had been building behind their eyes flared and Arthur bit down hard to keep them open, inhaling sharply.

“Well it seems whatever tricks you had in mind backfired in more ways than one. Arthur, did you truly think you waltz your way into my domain unscathed?”

“Oh, yeah! Definitely! But maybe you never went back to Addison? I could always give you a refresher.” He could stall. Get the dagger out, have John could carve the incantation and smear it with blood. Surely they could skip the spoken part that way. Just needed to create a blind spot for them.

Evidently however, unlike Arthur, Larson did see the move coming and stomped on the left half of it. Ignoring his partner’s shouts, he awkwardly flipped on his side. Holding on tight to Larson’s ankle, he sliced at the heel. Shoddy aim and his body complaining every step of the way didn’t leave a deep enough wound. Regardless it was enough for the prick to retreat out of range. Maybe the floor was okay for now as their two functional limbs were split fifty-fifty. Well if you didn’t count the shoulder on the same side getting shot the day before. Speaking of bullets, another lodged itself into the carpet right by his ear as he jolted at the noise and ringing that followed.

“You appear to be the one in need of a reminder of the current situation apparently. Now stop staring at the barrel and tell me where the Black Stone is?”

“For once luck is on our side: Larson didn’t witness your crowning act of idiocy. Keep. Him. Talking! Every bullet in the floor is a bullet that isn’t in our body.”

“Now that’s a bit of a wild guess! Why would little old me have any idea… what that is? I figured I could crash whatever party you had in town, as you know, a payback. It has been… quite a busy week.” Arthur laced that last sentence with all the venom which had piled up over the last few days. It hadn’t even been a full fortnight since the Dreamlands for fuck’s sake.

“Your strange habit of pausing at odd times remains, how queer”, pondered Larson while his enemy attempted to stand again, less graceful about it than a fish on dry land, “I assume you do not need further help emptying your pockets.”

“Listen. Why don’t I smash your head in? Shot you. Step on your hand. THEN you can see how easy it is to focus.”

“I’m afraid I’ll pass the offer…. what is all THIS junk?” Larson asked in disdain as Arthur tried to open the bag with one hand only for the contents to spill out. Fantastic! Turns out he had been holding it upside down!

“The glass, the stone, the mask, the books, the tooth, the coin, the wallet and hooks, the kit of course to help him shave are all in Arthur's bag today. But don’t forget the dagger, the flute, the keys and the lighter that keeps the darkness at bay.” The familiarity of matching a series of notes calmed him down just a little. It didn’t matter that the source of that particular song had been fresh out of a bloodbath.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Shooting the lock and letting that creature at the crowd to get the stone was genius compared to this. And why did you have to bring him up? Wait- there’s someone coming up around the corner!  

“… No matter. Unlike you, I have all night, my wits about me and only friends here.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.”

“Arthur, it’s Noel! He managed to get past our distraction and is holding Larson at gun point. His shoulder seems to be injured. His sleeves are torn with large dents matching the claws of that thing. If we could somehow turn them against each other, there may enough time to run. Or at least get the portal open.”

“Are you sure about this, detective? It would be poor etiquette as Arthur’s plus-one to have him killed.” Replied Larson as if this entire ordeal was nothing more than an argument at the local pub.

“That won’t be a problem. The plan isn’t to arrest him. Dreadful accidents happened with that many candles in smaller establishments. At the same time, testimonies of assault on the treasurer of another sect, maiming and murder have been connected to him.”

 Of course John decided that was the right moment to needle his partner about the decision to give his name to the secretary.  As if they had anyone else beside Daniel to be introduced to the freemasons. Surely Oscar or his father would vouch for Arthur’s character… at least for some of these accusations.  Not that it would amount to much if they didn’t make it out alive. Still he feared being wanted in a big city would make it harder for him to move around the States or to leave them.

“Cults like these prey on people facing hard times and get them to commit atrocities in the name of some big guy above or below. Nobody wants to believe their parent, friend or tenant would choose to be involved in shady stuff. If they can’t look at the evidence, they can bother some PI looking to make ends meet this month.” Noel finished, exhaustion slipping into that last sentence. No doubt the detective had to explain cases like these to clients both in Arkham as a private investigator then as a policeman in New York.

“That’s quite the story you wrote there! Have you ever considered becoming a playwright? Addison may not be a high production stage but you’ll have a captivated crowd and the support of a patron of the arts.” Larson drawled while he slowly drew his gun away from the thief. Although one didn’t need sight to guess he wasn’t about it.

“No thanks. I dealt with enough theater obsessed lemon suckers a few years ago. Then again this crony here is the reason I’m here tonight. Take out those cartridges and kick the weapon away… Jesus, my grandmother would have done better than that.”

“And Wallace is old enough to have met her in her heyday. He just had to throw his daughter at the monsters for that privelege! Clearly he’s the biggest threat here, Charlie. Everything you see at my feet is what I had on me tonight. There is no stupid rock!”

“Oh please, we all saw you leave with it! Would you quit acting like you care about the wellbeing of children anymore than respecting the divine or your elders. If that were true, she would still be here. Your precious little Fa-”

Arthur wasn’t about to let him finish. Compared to the Butcher or the ghoul, Larson was a lightweight. They didn’t need a knife. He would choke the life out of the piece of shit, one-handed if he had to. The monster didn’t get to speak her name.

Someone grabbed for his collar and yanked. He trashed hoping to grab onto his first opponent for stability. Unfortunately their body was acquainted yet again with wall, this time shoulder firsts. The shock didn’t have time to settle in before a punch in the gut had him hitting bedrock.

“Jesus fucking Christ… Do not call me that ever again. As if his highness would tell some guy his grand plan. He stole that name, that voice and is now using it to drag you around wherever he likes. This thing isn’t your friend.”

 “You know nothing! You humans act so high and mighty pretending kindness is inherent to living from the very moment of your birth. Care to guess what happened at mine? I was shoved into a hell worse than you could possibly imagine where neither time nor death has meaning. So yes! More often than not I lie rather than put my trust into people who have earnt it. I go for the throat when I feel even a little cornered. Everyone here has done that so stop fucking pretending any of you are gentle souls!” John’s truth burnt and yet his head felt clearer than it had since swallowing that rock. In the trail of that shooting star, Arthur just had to speak it all out loud for the rest of the world to hear. “Besides I can’t even get him to walk into a movie theater and sit still for fifty minutes.”

Nobody else said anything for a long while. Arthur could feel the fever chewing at his brain as they both caught their breaths from having pushed too far their limits. In the rare moment of quiet, he took notice of something familiar. Back with Parker, they had to look inside a freezer for clues and for lack of adequate clothing got forced to take turns. The cold current from back then it crawled the exact same way in the gap between his socks and his pants at his ankles. Out of damning curiosity he reached out and-

“Oops, thank you, totally missed by cue there. You gotta understand, detectives! I was so captivated by all those twists, turns and delightful noises, I got… distracted Man, I am going to miss not knowing the plot ahead of time. With that said, great surprise party everyone!”

“… it’s him”, John all the bravery snuffed out like a candle, “he’s squatting on our left, barefoot like back in the dreamlands. Ah. He’s what happened to our distraction. I can see its iridescent blood shining eerily against the black of his suit. In his hand there is a very large flat bread folded in two. There is so much garniture; you could not it around without half of the ingredients falling off. No it’s more than that. The sauce, a few drops hang by a thread as if they won’t fall unless he wills it.”

“Damn. Someone get an oxygen mask! This guy just wrote a spiel about a big fat taco.”

Without thinking Arthur flung himself in the opposite direction and despite the pain crawled as fast and as far as he could. Suddenly his brain connected the dots on the topic and person John had been avoiding to speak of this past week. Of fucking course it had to be that guy! He rasped out every word of the incantation he could remember, hoping John would follow suit. Unfortunately for them that distance didn’t mean very much I practice as clearly Kayne had no issue reeling them back so close he could feel the entity’s breath on his neck.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Arthur! Don’t say more, I- I can get us out of this!”

“Aww, you didn’t have to wrap up my present like that!  At this point it’s not just pretty paper and a bow… I can’t simply tear it up with how much love was put into this.” Singsonged the devil flicking back and forth his prey’s damaged earlobe.

Okay that was way too much: the uncomfortable heat beneath his skin and in his head, John’s apologies as he tried to grab their captor’s attention, the strange texture of the definitely non-human hands. He needed out now!

“How does it feel to be New York’s most wanted catch? You got quite a number hooked, ha! Hooked, get it? It’s the only reason you’re still alive after all!” Kayne asked flipping their body to so the three were face to face, one arm wrapped around their waist and the other holding their chin. Arthur bit down on the ‘hand’.

Everything went white as a chorus of complaints and cheers flooded his ears. Slowly he could make out Parker’s voice questioning his partner’s sanity in taking on that eating competition even with that big of a price at stake. Distant and muffled as if coming from under water or maybe he was the one below the surface. His suit must have been an absolute mess if his loudest detractor was to be believed. Thick black ink, blood or possibly both, dripped heavily and slowly like licorice down his jaw onto the shaky floor of the caboose. The fresh liquid cooled his brain boiled by the black sun. Broken skin was good. Broken skin meant he could break this down one bite at a time. Experimentally he twisted the flesh beneath his teeth and pulled. Yet the other end refused to snap clean. Instead it extended like cheese on pizza. Instinctively he opened his mouth and attempted catch the falling strings with his teeth.

“I know I’m the most special treat but I’m afraid I need your head not twenty leagues in the gutter.” Finger snapped and his jaws snapped down on empty air. His mind flailed around for the right frequency to reconnect with his senses.

“Let’s make a new deal! No stone as long as you don’t let us go. Or I-I take it with Arthur to the Dark World!” John’s weak bargain and threat was met with derisive laughter.

“Now why would I ask for something I already hold in my own hands? No, no, no! I’m going to enjoy this all-in-one King’s cake, hot and cold, treasure hunt. This time you can even call a friend instead the usual back-seaters. Much faster and less chances of cheating if you ask me!” The devil muttered something about being forced to write a C option to A or B conundrum. “Though really I guess it’s fifty-fifty: the other day there was that guy. I knew him from head to toe. Not you two. I see other people. Like I said! Every line of his silly little life! Urgh middle school production level, at best. And still! Still he managed to surprise me!”

Two hands clapped together as if to put a close to that intermission. The next moment Arthur was back on the floor and he didn’t like how his brain almost let out a sigh of relief at that sensation. The less was said, the less fun Kayne would have. Bar was low, even for them, but so was the ground. The devil said something about first tries removing obvious options before driving a hand into their stomach. Arthur shouted, violent shivers rocking his spine as their body fought vainly to twist out of the way on pure reflex. Unfortunately their digestive tract refused to admit defeat and heaved to expel the unknown intruder back up his throat. Shame malevolent entities didn’t care for the laws of physics and thus he was left coughing bile. Some of which came straight back down his throat.

“Now that the dud is out of the way, am I warm or icy?”

“Fuck you!” Arthur spat out.

“Uh… Cold?”

“Well fuck you too, John!”

“Do you think I’m happy about this?! I was the one sewing this shit back up while you took a bloody nap!” His partner snapped, spewing the vitriol at Arthur since he was too afraid to do the same towards Kayne. Sensing aggression would only have his partner push back, John tried to put himself down as the reasonable one. Hilarious if you asked Arthur given they had left sanity back at his office in Arkham. “Shut up and tell me where the stone is. Please!”

“Not three hours ago we walked into this… rat hole because YOU said we couldn’t leave a bloody rock into their hands! Now you’re telling me! That the doomsday device of the week would … Christ… safe in Kayne’s hands?”

“Artie, you’re such a worrier! No truly. Think of it as, hmmm, the battery of Mister Universe’s alarm clock. The grey part is sort of its casing and I like to picture the red one as a fog horn. Really the world popping out of existence is not even part of the equation. I mean do YOU think about all the bugs crushed setting up picnics? Of course you don’t! Hahaha that would be stupid, am I right? Anyyyway it’s time for take two, gentlemen and entities!”

Take two in fact involved exploring his intestines and accidentally popping their appendix like a cherry. Of course the only apology he got was a ‘whoospie-daisy’ and a quip about John being lucky the book didn’t land him there. “I mean what would have happened at the first argument? Sending the guy straight to the hospital cause you exploded on him?! … actually that would be funny to see I should check before waking Daddy up.” Arthur still tried to slap or push back Kayne’s hands. Totally useless of course but it was better than licking boots the way John did. Especially when the devil clearly wasn’t interested in bargaining. He would like to not be the reason the world ended, thank you very much. The third strike at their lungs yielded as many complaints and yet the stone remained missing. While Arthur could still feel Kayne was merely playing, he wasn’t sure how much longer that would last.

“Your train friend – what did he call himself again, the butcher – wasn’t wrong you know? About the music analogies! It’s all about hitting the right keys. A bit of tuning might be needed with how battered this body is though. Hopefully I won’t have to hit the entire board to find my gift. I really, truly, deeply”, and with each word pressing his fingers right into the still fresh bullet wound, “would hate for it to be lost in all the wrapping!”

“Maybe… you’re just… bad at looking…” Wheezed Arthur inbetween coughs. Even as they remained on the floor he was struggling to stay afloat. Their boiling head had apparently decided to keep all the heat for itself instead of sharing. It left him both shivering and sweating bullets enough to turn Larson into swiss cheese had they been actual ammunition.

“Actually you’re right… It is time to call a friend! Let’s get to it, we have candidate number one: Wallace Larson from the quaint little town of Addison, here to retrieve the sacred artifact for the Order of –what was it again – the shooting star? Who cares! And candidate number two, Arthur’s plus-one-turned-nemesis, detective Noel from the New York Police Department! Who will take a shot at retrieving the Black Stone and earn the ultimate mystery price?! I for one cannot wait to find out!” The devil announced loudly before finishing in a false hushed tone. “Candidate number three having yet to manifest himself shall remain anonymous… for now.”

“Absolutely not! I’m not putting my hands in that!” Shouted Larson as if the very scenario was a personal offense to his character. There was a long pause until he threw a retort at… someone? John had said there were only three people in this corridor aside from them both…

“Oh I’ll take a shot, alright.” Noel’s voice derailed his theory that he was the universe’s chew toy tonight in particular. Then Arthur heard several rounds attempt to drown out Kayne’s rising laughter.

“Noooooo! What could poor little old me do against… human ingenuity. And so I die… To our hero’s quick draw and wit! ARGh!” A confused John told his partner about the performance as the devil had dropped to his knees, grasping his torso in overly exaggerated agony then met face first with the floor.

Athur felt it before it happened: the change of pressure in the air, how they were leaving the eye of storm and about to meet the worst of it. He just needed to do one thing right tonight, just one little thing! Turn what little energy he has left past his throat into a shout to run, to live, to save Noel.

“SURPRISE!”

He startled as several party poppers and blowers went off. Blood spattered everywhere. Propping himself self up for that warning proved to have been a mistake as projectiles collided with their chest. Some small and hard but others squishy and much more wet. He went back down with hiss, head swimming as his mind slipped

Down,

Down,

Down.

“Fuck. FUCK! Noel! His head! It exploded! It’s all over the floor. Kayne… he… popped out of Noel’s neck. His old body has melted into the carpet. It has left a deep black imprint, the edges fizzling but not catching fire. Larson is throwing up beside the left wall. It’s not just the blood... I can identify… parts. An entire eye landed into our chest earlier! It rolled by our side now. There are also a few teeth lodged into our right shoulder. What I thought were confetti in the air were actually fragments of skin. I’m sorry Arthur. I don’t know… I don’t know how to salvage this.”

No trip to England. No letter to Marie. No night at the movie theater. John’s misshaped hand clutched their chest. Their heart was still beating. It didn’t care for gods, grief or pain. It just was.

“What a blast, am I right?! One down, two to go. UNLESS! Our main attraction wishes to open up at last. The hand you were dealt with was pretty bad but you pulled through! Atta boys! Who cares about the finish line? It’s all about the journeyyyyy! So come on, there’s no need to be a sore loser.”

They couldn’t win. Not by a country mile. But..

It didn’t mean Kayne had to.

“Well, they can’t say I didn’t try. But guess what! It seems the final guest sorted himself out as well… Everyone welcome the prince in rags! The phony few had the patience for! The bastard thrown aside as the once and future king made his return! Our mystery candidate number three! Go on, banana peel. Introduce yourself.”

“I- in yellow.”

“Pretty sure even us folk in the front didn’t catch that. Try again your majesty. Put your whole belly into it!”

“I AM THE KING IN YELLOW!”

“Noooow that wasn’t so hard, was it? One could almost believe all the shaking is from a royal tantrum! Penny for your thoughts on the whereabouts of my lucky charm?”

“Carmichael! Bet me on me!”

“Huh. Kinda already am to be honest… But no. That’s not what you want.”

“If I retrieve the Black Stone, I… can keep the rest of him.”

“NO! Kayne, our deal isn’t broken!” Yelled John desperately trying to lift them both up and prove they were still in the game. “Arthur, please! Just tell him! I can’t- I can’t lose you again.”

“Should have thought about that earlier, turncoat! Regardless this tortilla’s got it baaaaad. Never thought you’d want all thorns English Rose back after what he did to you.”

“I want to win.”

“Oh please! You want him back! Hmmm the irony of YOU coming on top… YES that’s it! Okay! Okay. We’re all ears.”

There was a brief silence as Yellow took a deep calming breath. John whispered at Arthur pleading, promising that a fake wouldn’t have pulled him back from the brink in Addison. At the end of his rope his partner brought her up. Somehow not even that worked. Arthur’s thoughts only concerned the monster just a few feet away. One born out of his grief, his misguided love, his bad temper, his selfishness.

“Arthur has the stone inside him,” and immediately the devil cut in with a sarcastic comment but Yellow continued on, “if you searched the lungs then fingers or toes must be valid options as well. No, limbs are easy to separate from the rest. Too big a risk…”

“That it would. I’m so sorry John! The portal closed on us and your arm with the stone is on the other side! Now that would be anticlimactic.”

“John doesn’t know, the entire time he didn’t fight back against you. That leaves out the left foot. As well as his forearm and…”

Strangely Arthur felt a twinge of pride as Yellow broke down his thought process the way an investigator would. He admitted it was a bit self-centered to assume the entity got it from him in their short time together. Maybe at the end he wanted at least one person to understand his choice, the logic behind it.

The gap between the three of them was closed in seconds. A cool sensation spread across his forehead and desperate for the contact to last he leaned deeper and deeper. Ocean waves scratched at his skin as the seagulls laughed and laughed. Taking turns they dug in. The waters trashed around pulling Arthur under. The birds didn’t care and followed after, their cries now clamored for their prey to stop wriggling around. The best lock in the world would not keep Davy Jones’ loot safe for long against someone with both the right tools and determination.

The moment the foreign fingers scratched against their prize, a flash of lucidity cut through. Arthur curled around the stone so tightly he no longer knew where it ended or where he began. Hooks dug into his soul, prying him closer and closer to the surface. Gold strings fiercely yanked him back towards the abyss. Then as a last resort stitched themselves hastily into the searing patchwork.  

“Ding, ding, ding! And we have a winner!”

The slap on his back had Yellow hunching forward, closer to the hands cupping the Black Stone. It throbbed in unison with his own body. Every shadow, every color glistened in a blinding contrast. The very same way Addison had looked that morning after the clouds had parted, leaving only clear skies and the brilliant snow. His heavy breaths were woven into brush strokes painting this vista, one last gift to Arthur before this entity swallowed the entire world. Then he fixed his gaze onto Kayne holding the rock out, waiting for the devil to keep his end of the deal. Everything went sideways and Yellow landed on his ass. It was disorienting as fuck but he felt more at home than he ever did inside Larson’s head. He grazed his fingers across the new scars he was not present for with slight irritation. No matter he would demand the stories later. None seemed to compare to the three from the boat anyway. Wait the boat-

“I give you a ten out of ten. Stellar work truly! So here’s the tip: you remember everything. Honestly I didn’t expect you to be that useful after driving Artie to the brink. Fascinating really how the carrot he had no trouble following after all this time disgusted him when I served it grated. Since he was so difficult I switched to a slightly different brand and you’ll never guess what… He swallowed it hook, line and sinker! Convinced I had indulged his whimsies. It was hilarious!”

His stomach sank as his memories clicked back into place: the office, the hospital, the city under the hotel, the pits, Lily and the sight of Arthur’s dying body falling out of his reach while the King laughed at his naivety. What had followed despite Kayne’s meddling was their own handiwork. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise considering their argument in front of his mural. The bigger threat was never the creatures they encountered down the line but their own stubbornness.

The stone’s power rose into a crescendo sending shivers down his spine. The corridor twisted from the tension it wasn’t made to withstand. No, even had they been out in the open the artifact would have bent the world in the same way. Slowly his ears began to parse out the melody underneath: a wail accompanied by a piano and the sound of rushing water.

“Oh darling, thar tickles! Looks like Daddy’s clock will have a vibrate option, truly a testimony of human progress don’t you think? Huh. Don’t stare at me like I drowned your goldfish. It’s not MY fault you didn’t account for stowaways before handing it over! Anyway time’s up. Farewell Jonagold!”

He didn’t care about the difference between them, the purpose of the stone or how this was the consequences of everyone’s choices. No one took what was his! Not even the Crawling Chaos itself!

The reason he failed and grasped nothing but empty air was ironic: the pathetic leftover vessel who had refused to get his hands dirty.

How stupid! How shocking! How splendid! His roar of laughter bounced off the walls of the blood-stained corridor. It was a stage equal to the basement of 58 Pelican Lane. However he still had to make his own debut.

The malevolent entity wrapped his hands around the man’s throat

and

squeezed.

[alparlaboratories]

To Another Abyss - Chapter 5: It's only over once it's over.

(Chapters -which are usually between 500-1000 words- will be posted daily here first on Tumblr, and will later be posted in 7-8 chapter batches on AO3.)

-

Kanto has changed a lot in the past ten years. The League is no more, and trainers are now only tools for the rich and powerful, either mercenaries or dogs of the government.

Sabrina is the latter. She is to play the role of Gym leader in a sick, twisted mockery of the art she once admired, bearing the name of her childhood idol, a woman who is now wanted across the region. All for the entertainment of Kanto’s shadowy new rulers.

It’s a role she doesn’t mind playing. At least until an unusual challenger comes into her Gym, into the life she’s worked so hard to build, and begins to unravel it all.

-

Chapter 5: It's only over once it's over:

Sabrina studied the Scyther carefully, doing her best to conceal her worry. A swift, hard-hitting bug-type, surely with loads of combat experience… could she have gotten a worse opponent?

To make things worse, they'd agreed to a one on one duel, so this would be decided in an instant.

She threw her own Pokeball out, and from the blast of light emerged an old, frazzled Hypno wearing a pair of colorful yellow glasses. The Pokemon bristled, seemingly not bothered by his opponent's chilly glare. Sabrina knew him well, and knew that despite his frail appearance no other Pokemon from the Gym could match his smarts and experience.

Against a Scyther, though…?

After weighing all the possible options, the two of them crossed eyes, and nodded. There was only one way out of this, and it involved being smiled on by Lady Luck.

Both Pokemon stared each other down for a moment. Then, emboldened by the blood-thirsty cheers of the audience, they jumped to attack in unison.

"X-Scissor!" the man bellowed.

"Trick!" Sabrina countered.

The Scyther's speed was beyond compare. A bolt of verdant lightning, he crossed the arena in an instant and slashed upwards with both of his scythes, catching his foe just as the glasses disappeared from his face with a pop. The poor Hypno hit the ground hard, the sheer force of the impact sending him rolling until he crashed against the bars of the cage on the other side. He trembled, one hand against the floor, but could not bring himself even to his knees.

Without a doubt, the man with the cross knew what he was doing.

However, that made him and his Pokemon cocky. The both of them turned toward Sabrina, completely disregarding the Hypno as he raised a small berry and shoved it in his mouth.

Sabrina very pointedly didn't turn to look. Which was good, as the next instant the giant bug Pokemon shot toward her. He stopped within an inch of killing her, scythe raised to her neck with practiced control, barely brushing her skin. From this close, she could see that pair of yellow glasses adorning his face.

"Woah, easy there." Sabrina raised her hands in a show of surrender, earning a storm of boos from the audience.

"Nice one, Clay! You knocked it out of the park!" The man with the cross cheered with a big, dumb smile. "I'm very proud, buddy!"

Despite the danger of the situation, Sabrina couldn't help but roll her eyes again. She had to keep up the façade. The cool, calculating Scyther with a blade to her neck. The dumb, arrogant trainer smiling like an idiot. The young Gym leader with her hands raised, far from her Pokeballs, looking nervous.

"Well? What now?" asked the man, raising both hands and shrugging. "I'm disappointed. Seems like the rumors were all exaggerated."

A smirk formed on Sabrina’s lips. "Heh."

"What's so funn–?"

"Disable."

Eyes shooting wide, the Scyther tried to turn around. But Hypno was now possessed by an abnormal speed, and barraged his foe with a sudden wave of psychic energy, throwing him off of his trainer.

"Wh–Clay's Salac Berry!?"

Sabrina's grin widened maliciously across her face.

"Psychic."

The burst of concentrated energy blasted the Scyther in the face, sending him across the room. His trainer balled his hands into fists, eyes wide with panic.

"X-Scissor!"

But the Scyther didn't move. Couldn't. His body quivered with the bug's desire to attack, but it was as though every muscle in his arms had been paralyzed. He couldn't raise his scythes.

"Shit, Struggle!?" he cursed, realization dawning on him. "Of course, the Choice Specs…!

The rest of the fight was predictable. Unable to use his arms, the Scyther flew at Hypno in an attempt to tackle him, but slammed against the ground again and again, as the Salac berry had given him more than enough speed to dodge each of his attacks. The old Hypno barraged the poor insect with burst after burst of psionic power, until finally he hit the ground like a brick, smoking from head to toe. Hypno looked down at his fallen foe and struggled a step back, heaving from pain but still very much capable of fighting.

He knew what came next.

With an expression that bordered on demonic, Sabrina pointed at the man with the cross, and the wizened Hypno obeyed without question, raising a hand aflame with purple wisps of power.

Yet, to Sabrina's disappointment, her opponent didn't look scared or worried in the slightest. Instead, he hung his head and closed his eyes, balled fists trembling.

He was pissed.

"Y-you… backstabbing, traitorous…!" He seriously looked on the verge of losing it from anger. "What kind of trainer does something like that!? You're a disgrace to all Gym leaders!"

Sabrina raised an eyebrow, and chuckled. "Right…"

Unconcerned, she took an old iron lighter from her pocket and flipped it open, lighting a cigarette as she took it to her mouth.

"You wanted to win too cleanly," she said through puffs of smoke. "If you hadn't been such a good boy and actually killed me when you had the chance, you'd be leaving this place with my badge and my fame. But you didn't, because you're a loser. That your Pokemon is superior to your opponent's in all aspects doesn't guarantee your victory, priest."

She shoved the lighter back in her pocket and returned the Hypno to his Pokeball. Then she turned around and started walking away.

"You'd do well to remember that."

Fists trembling, pupils shrunken by rage, the man with the cross yelled as the Gym leader disappeared into darkness.

"I won't let this stand! I'll never accept your way of fighting! I'll be back tomorrow, and then I will beat you! You'll see!"

[godsopenwound]

god.........im currently crying over The Moody Blues theme album 'To Our Children's Children's Children'...........the album was inspired by the 1969 Apollo 11 moon landing.....some of the things the band members said were “To me, we were creating a rocket for every person who wants to go to the moon but couldn't, and would get to do so with the earphones on or the stereo turned up, lying on their backs on the carpet.” and “The spoken word introduction (of the first song in the album) is set to a musical simulation of the sound of the Saturn V rocket blasting off.” and “The idea is to give you the impression that you are going up into orbit, leaving the [booster] behind, as we've all seen film of the third stage separating and falling back to earth.” and “So if you want to play, stay right back on Earth, waiting for rebirth” these lyrics are intended as a wake up call. One can either wake up and stay centered, or give your attention to worldly distractions. He laments that the latter has prevailed: "It's come to represent the drudgery of the mediocrity in life of our civilization. All of this [technological] greatness has only resulted in the sense of the mundane that prevails.” and “...being from a lost world. A beautiful, lonely world. Probably I made it much more obscure than it needed to be, but it still moves me, and I'm not sure that I can explain why. I feel every single word of it, it invokes images within me that I find particularly moving. It does have a spiritual dimension to it, a religious-almost dimension to it.” and “the first moments of experiencing space after liftoff completes. It considers the wonderment that space travel provides, and what the experience of seeing planets and Earth from a new perspective would be like.” and “I really thought if you were out there what would you expect, what would you see if you were on the spaceship going out. And I suddenly realized if you went up there with all preconceived ideas and preprogrammed ideas in your mind you'd probably miss everything. And I realized then, that's how a child works. […] When you look at life through the eyes of a child there is a wonderment, isn't it? Children see the world differently. There are wonders every day: When you see a butterfly flying or when you see a bird flying or when you see anything, it's just a wonderful world for children to see. I thought, as we become older, we become prejudiced and if you can rid of whatever your prejudice is, you just see the world in naivety, without any restriction. It's wonderful for everyone to be able to see everything in life without any prejudice.” ............................it conveys the experience of observing the gas giants while traveling past and the low-gravity stroll on the moon and the fascination with space and looking up into the night sky and explores the emotion of space travel, and coming to terms with the isolation and loss of personal connection that a long voyage alone would present and loneliness while advocating compassion and the passage of time...................

[fandom-fandom-fandom-17]

I'm bringing back the Grimora from that one episode they were in -because i can :) Also there’s angst and drug usage and a little whump. Day 3 nature

It seemed like all forces of nature were against the hunter. Every tree seemed to fight him, the moonlight tricking his eyes, every root tripped him as he desperately made a plan. The plan? survive Hiccup Haddock. At this point he was hoping he didn't have to kill the young man whom he had grown to have a close relationship with. There had been moments in the past where a glance or a touch had lasted just a moment too long. There had been a moment no less than a month ago  during a duel where the tension had been to much and had almost been broken. The line would have been crossed if not for a blast from the boys own dragon. Several lines were about to be crossed currently. Just not the ones Viggo expected.

Hiccup haddock was about to kill him. In his defense Hiccup wasn't in control of his actions. According to his friends that had tracked him down for help about 3 hours ago Hiccup had been experimenting in Grimora infested water for a new project he was working on. The riders hadn't know the water was infested. They had just gone to an island that wouldn't be affected if the project blew up again. They also knew that the project had a strange affect on hiccup when it blew up in his face before. Ignoring them the whole day to the point that toothless had gotten worried and grabbed Astrid. The only other things they knew about the project that it involved a dragon they were trying to moving and a purple liquid that none of them had seen before and didn't know where Hiccup had gotten it. 

Viggo did know where the dragon rider had gotten it. He stole it from Viggo. He only had two vials of the stuff because it was so dangerous. He had noticed it missing after the last time the two had a confrontation. He understood why he had taken it if they were transporting an aggressive dragon. And if Hiccup was experimenting with it? With Grimoras involved ? that was not going to end well. So he and the dragon riders came up with a plan to catch Hiccup. The reason the dragon riders had gone to him and why the other dragon hunters were on board was because he was Hiccups next target.  Hiccup and toothless had gone after the dragon riders first but during their last attempt to subdue him in which they had cured toothless he declared while trying to get away from them that Viggo was his next target stating he "needed more" before diving back into the invested water seemingly never resurfacing. They had left Snotlout and fishlegs there to see if he did resurface. 

Viggos best guess is that Hiccup had found a air pocket under the lake.  Telling the riders as such which had them breathe a of relief. Making Viggo wonder if they though that they had truly lost their leader. So together they had come up with a plan with Viggo in charge much to the riders begrudgement. 

So  here he was on an unknown island with a fake vial of purple liquid with the plan going horribly wrong. The first problem is that he had gotten both Snotlout, Fishlegs, and their dragons under his control.  Which didn't which strictly surprised him because Hiccup was incredibly clever  even under the influence of some toxin.  Which is the main part of why he had fallen for his adversary.  The problem was that it had gotten harder and when the twins captured. Thankfully just the people not their dragons as that would have made things even harder. So corralling him currently was more than half the team.  The dragon hunters beside Riker were still on the ships as back up. And they were corralling him it seemed as though wanted to catch Viggo himself. The young rider was wearing blue oleander as well as an eel keeping any dragons off him. Rendering another part of the plan as useless. 

Viggo shot left then took a right before running into a wall of flame tunneling him leaving him to chose either to go toward Hiccup or the monstrous nightmare. Viggo chose the option with less teeth. The reason he was running in the first place was the arsenal of weapons Hiccup had managed to make while left unchecked. As well as the fact that a dragon had melted his weapons. His guess at the order of Hiccup. As he turned unsure if he could talk his way out of this, a growl sounded from the shadows.

"There you are ~ My dear Viggo" the words sounded almost joyful until he got to Viggos name which was laced with venom. Hiccup stepped into the moonlight unafraid and confident his eyes laced with hunger. Viggo did not share the same feelings but he took a step forward to see what would happen. Choosing to take a gamble rather than be afraid. Hiccup and Viggo traded movement like it was a game of maces and talons till the two had a breath of space between them. Viggo made the move to go even further. Hiccup did not. before Viggo could blink Hiccup had drawn his sword. Viggo managed to deflect the blade but not by enough. The sword plunged into his leg causing Viggo to howl in pain. Viggo swept his leg out knocking him to the ground. In a singular movement hiccup plopped himself on to Viggo hips with a dagger to his check. 

" Now for my prize" Hiccup whispered with a sly smirk on his face.  Viggos hand tensed to try and hold onto the vial as fake as it was. Hiccup leaned down capturing Viggos lips. Surprising Viggo, this was not how he saw it going down. Hiccup seemed unhappy with Viggos reaction because he took his hand that wasn't on the vial and tried to deepen the kiss. Viggo not one to look a gift dragon in the mouth deepened the kiss as well going as far as biting Hiccups lip. Hiccup gave a growl at this grinding down on Viggo. This caused Viggo to moan which Hiccup took advantage of plunging his tongue in Viggo mouth.  Viggo put his free hand into Hiccups hair. Hiccup simply took his kisses down Viggos neck to let him breathe. Hiccup found a spot on Viggos neck that got him noises he really liked so he attacked it ruthlessly. Once he had abused it to his liking he broken away taking both of Viggos hands gently. Then as quick as a razor whip with Viggo still dazed Hiccup joined his hand together tying them with a sturdy vine.  He quickly got up and did the same to his feet afterwards he finally took the fake vial leaving him with a quick kiss on the lips. Hiccup walked away with the sway of victory in his walk.

After that there were only two problems for Hiccup other than the vial was fake. 1 was that after what Viggo had just experienced he was already planning revenge .  The second one was that he had taken to long to seduce Viggo and after a few minutes he was surrounded by the dragon hunters and dragon riders alike. Viggo heard small screams from the tainted Grimora and cheers from both sides. 'Sorry Hiccup my dear' Viggo though to himself 'Perhaps you'll win next time while much more sane' Viggo let loose a small  villainous laugh before cutting himself loose and wondering what he should do to Hiccup to return the favor of tonight. As well as how to thank mother nature along with the Grimoras.

I realized after writing this this would have worked well for day 1 -about 1310 words no beta