#(like he seems the most malicious at this rate and his capabilities can be quite terrifying- he may as well decide to--

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

Pokémon Horizons Episode 26 spoilers under the cut!

OH SO WE WEREN'T BEING JUST DELUSIONAL,,,,,, THEY'RE DOING IT,,,,,,,,,,,, THEY'RE ACTUALLY DOING IT,,,, , ,

[beanieman]

My Headcanon’s About Each Character’s Percentage

Sara Chidouin 15.5 - I think Midori pretty much spells it out why Sara’s percentage is so high. She’s good at manipulating others, and has psychical strength if that doesn’t work out. Going off the logic route, I’m also fairly certain she used Ranmaru often to do her bidding, and then betrayed him last minute. 

Keiji Shinogi 9.5 - Keiji voting for Kanna is a pretty big indicator why he won so often. He’s willing to do whatever it takes for his survival, including killing kids if it means increasing his chances. He’s able to betray Megumi at the start of the game, so him turning on others that he knew a much shorter time than Megumi, doesn’t seem like a crazy idea. If he had the sacrifice card, I think he’d be smart enough to know how to direct votes towards himself. But he also cares about Sara in a Fatherly way. And the times he did die, I wouldn’t be shocked if it was because he was allying with Sara and she stabbed him in the back. 

Q-Taro Burgerberg 8.8 - Why Q-Taro wins so much isn’t hard to figure out. The vending machine gives the answer. He can be selfish and it looks like it quite a few test data’s it got the better of him. But he can also be selfless under the right circumstances as shown by his death. Which is why he doesn’t have a higher rank then Keiji. 

Reko Yabusame 7.7 - My biggest theory for her high number is Alice sacrifices himself to save Reko over and over. It’s not that I don’t think Reko is capable of winning on her own, because she is, but as shown by her death scene, Reko would hurt herself before she was able to hurt her friends. So it’s hard for me to see her maliciously winning the game. I also see her being the most likely to win with the sacrifice card. Because if she had it, it’s almost certain Alice would vote for her, and possibly Kanna and Gin. Even when her personality is her more selfish, she still can’t bring herself to hurt Nao or Sara as shown by when she chooses to stab herself over hurting either of them.

Alice Yabusame 6.6 - The times Alice won, I would say are the times Reko was chosen by Majority Vote. Reko dying by a floormasters hand like in the game is one thing, but the group actively choosing to kill his sister? That would not go over well. It would also give him yet another parallel to Shin, by killing everyone and winning the game to avenge his little sister. 

Megumi Sasahara 4.9 - I don’t have a lot to say about her percentage, since we never get to know her well. Her deals with ASU NARO to keep the shooting out of the news might have something to do with her wins. But shadiness was probably her downfall. 

Kazumi Mishima 3.0 - I think Mishima’s low percentage rating is due to his more passive nature and willingness to sacrifice himself. The others also see him as as suspicious due to his appearance, which gets him killed in the test trial. But as seen in Island Mode, he can have a willingness to attack others, like if he fights Touko for the boat. His intelligence and calmness probably kept him alive in the route’s he did win.  

Kanna Kizuchi 2.7 - I could see Kanna sacrificing herself for others, especially Sara, which is why her win rate is so low. I do like the idea of the greenblings having parallels the the Yabusame by Shin saving Kanna. It’s possible Shin made it to the end a few times and let himself become a doll to save her. Or Shin was able to manipulate the others into voting for her when she had the sacrifice card. Because Kanna is such a kind person, I don’t see her intentionally killing others. 

Gin Ibushi 1.3 - Gin gets stuck in a trap every chapter, so that’s almost certainly what kept killing him. But if he made it to the final vote, I think the others would be very apprehensive to kill him, which is likely how he won the few times. 

Shin Tsukimi 0.0 - While a few people have pointed out Shin might be so self sacrificial he would give himself up to protect the others, I disagree personally. His AI’s reaction when he dies, pretty much confirms even the kinder Shin wouldn’t want to die. And kind or not he still has an intense fear of death. I do like to think however, he’s responsible for Kanna’s 2.7 rate, because as seen in the second main game she’s the one person he’s willing to die for. I think the reason he dies so much is because he’s an easy target. He’s a very emotional person with no psychical strength. Even when he tries to lie he’s terrible at it, and stress makes him lash out and crumble. So I just don’t think his personality was built for a death game. He’s just the weakest link. 

Dolls

Naomichi Kurumada 9.9 - Early on in the game, Naomichi shows willingness to keep his allies at arms length and a willingness to win. Which is how he kept living. But after seeing the more selfless side of him in 3B, I can easily see how he’d keep loosing to Sara or the others. Much like Q-Taro there are plenty of scenarios, where he’s selfless, which leads to his death. 

Shunsuke Hayasaka 8.2 - Very simply, I think his knowledge of ASU-NARO and how it functioned is what kept him alive so often. The times he died I would bet money on it being because the others found out about his connection and pulled a Kai, or he died protecting Gin from a trap. 

Anzu Kinashi 8.0 - Since she has such a high survival rate, I think no one saw her as a threat because...well she’s really not one. No one would be targeting her for their own survival like they would Keiji, Q-Taro, or Sara. Which means she slips under the radar and isn’t the groups first or even 19th priority to kill. Ironically this probably lead to her accidentally winning the game a good chunk of the time. 

Mai Tsurugi 7.5 - Mai stabbing Q-Taro is a perfect explanation for why her win rates so far. She’s willing to go very far to survive. But as also shown, Mai can be a very caring person. Which is probably why she lost so often. Kind of a personal headcanon that she had her own vending machine ending in the test AI to parallel with Q-Taro. 

Ranmaru Kageyama 5.3 - Ranmaru died so often likely because of his loyalty to Sara. That probably screwed him over more than a few times. But he does manage to win a decent amount of times. He’s willing to kill people if pushed, and would want for the others to vote for him with the sacrifice card if it meant escaping for Sara. I do think they had a close bond in most routes, because Ranmaru became very infatuated with her very quickly. 

Hiniko Mishuku 1.1 - The real Hinako wanted to die, as she told Rio Ranger. So she probably wasn’t trying to hard to survive. The few times she did win, I’m guessing the others voted for her when she had the sacrifice card, because they assumed she was lying about having the card in a ploy to die.  

[yeeyee-alumni]

Joel did not doom humanity (no matter how much the second game wants you to believe that)

To demonize Joel’s decision at the end of the first game (saving his surrogate daughter’s life) you need to bend over backwards and ignore any and all context the first game gave us with regards to who the Fireflies truly are. Because the truth of the matter is: a) they knocked Joel unconscious while he was trying to revive a young girl b) they drugged Ellie immediately to tear her body apart for their needs c) THEY DID NOT ASK ELLIE FOR PERMISSION to give her life for their cause, they didn’t even tell her she would have to die (Ellie was making plans with Joel after the giraffe scene, “Once we're done, we'll go wherever you want. Okay?”, clearly indicating she had no idea she would have to die) d) they did not let Ellie and Joel see each other to say their goodbyes e) they were about to walk Joel out into the wilderness without any of his gear/resources, which during the zombie apocalypse is a certain death sentence f) they didn’t hold up their end of the bargain (remember how Marlene promised Joel guns in return for delivering Ellie?) So even if you show them as much goodwill as possible, the Fireflies are still a bunch of assholes. If the exact opposite had happened, they let Joel go all on good terms and then he suddenly decided to turn around and murder everyone I would have called him a terrible person, but that is not what happened. As it stands, the Fireflies are shady and questionable at best. But it actually gets worse:

a) the procedure that would 100% kill Ellie had an incredibly low success rate (the doctor mentioned in his recording that every previous operation with other test subjects had failed) b) the same recording mentions cerebrospinal fluid having been extracted, meaning they were capable of performing a non-lethal spinal tab, but they’re unable to perform a non-lethal biopsy or craniotomy on Ellie? (this may seem like nit-picking, but actually further solidifies my point about how incompetent the Fireflies/Abby’s dad were/was) c) to add to their immense incompetence, mere hours after receiving Ellie they decide to IMMEDIATELY KILL THE ONLY PERSON KNOWN TO BE IMMUNE as oppose to keeping her alive for as long as possible to run every single test in existence on her. But let's paint a picture of the best case scenario, which is Jerry, the absolute legend that he is, actually manages to get a vaccine out of Ellie, what happens then? a) How are the Fireflies, who are nearly extinct at this point, supposed to MASS PRODUCE and NATIONWIDE DISTRIBUTE a vaccine? That is logistically impossible. b) More than likely, they would use the vaccine as a bargaining chip against FEDRA (granted, this is more a guess than a fact, but to believe they wouldn’t take advantage of the vaccine in the fight for political power against the government they’ve been fighting for years is beyond naïve). But let’s be even more generous: turns out the Fireflies are the most altruistic resistance group to have ever existed, they actually manage to produce and distribute the vaccine into every last corner of the country, everyone is immune. What now? a) You might be immune to spores and bites, but your immunity doesn’t help you when a clicker rips your throat out or a bloater crushes you to death, the infected can still kill you in numerous other ways. b) The faction wars going on are not gonna disappear overnight. WLF and Seraphites will continue to kill each other by the dozens every day, one could even argue that introducing a vaccine into the conflict would only cause things to escalate further. c) Numerous cannibals, hunters and bandits still roam the country, they will not abandon their practices overnight and they are arguably a much bigger threat than the infected to begin with. Just because everyone is immune does not mean that the world returns to sunshine, rainbows, and flowers. To imply that it would, means being simplistic and naive beyond reason. It should be obvious by now that Ellie’s death WOULD NOT HAVE IMPROVED ANYTHING. The chances of actually getting a vaccine are slim to none, the chances of vaccinating everyone are even more dour, and even then the overall situation would not improve much. With such bad prospects I wouldn't be willing to sacrifice my child either. (I am aware that an argument can be made that none of these factors had an impact on Joel’s decision to save Ellie, yet they’re still crucial when making a judgement about the Fireflies/Abby’s dad). To summarize: a) Abby’s dad was incompetent and a horrible person (his conversation with Abby in the second game tells us that he would not be willing to sacrifice his own child, but if it’s someone else’s it’s a-okay for him). b) The Fireflies were a malicious and incompetent terrorist group with messed up morals. c) No, Joel did not doom humanity. Subsequently, Abby’s quest for revenge was not justified because the Fireflies and her dad were never justified in their actions to begin with. And this is only solidified by the second game having to retcon the hell out of all these arguments I just painstakingly illustrated and explained in order to even attempt to have Abby’s motivation be seen as justified. Only one example being how it was clearly established in the first game that they had MULTIPLE doctors in Salt Lake City (Marlene: “The doctors tell me that the cordyceps, the growth inside her, has somehow mutated.”; Ellie: “She said that they have their own little quarantine zone. With doctors there still trying to find a cure.”). Yet in the second game we are told by

Abby that actually no, turns out her dad was the only doctor that could have developed vaccine. And it doesn't take mental gymnastics to see why the second game takes it upon itself to alter most of the context of the first one: to (retroactively!) condemn Joel. HOWEVER, a sequel doesn’t get to pick and choose which established facts from the first entry it builds upon or what it gets to retroactively declare as non-canon only to have it fit their preferred narrative. Quite frankly, that’s bad writing. A sequel, in order to be considered well-written, has to not only be a natural continuation of the events, but has to stay consistent with the characters and the world that were previously set up. And if you have to alter much of the context to make it look like Joel condemned the world, isn't that the most obvious sign that he never actually did? And all of this effort for just one goal: to justify Abby’s quest for revenge and yet it still wasn’t and here’s why: Joel killed her dad in order to PREVENT HIM FROM KILLING HIS DAUGHTER. Abby on the other hand WILFULLY SLOW TORTURED Joel for what appears to be hours, prolonging his death for as long as possible, all for her own gratification (and we won't mention how she went through with it despite Ellie's crying and pleading). And don’t even try to make the argument about Abby wanting “justice”, Joel didn’t torture her dad out of revenge or for his own gratification - this is not justice, this is simply sadistic. A man killing someone who is about to murder their child in semi-self-defense cannot be compared to someone wilfully slow torturing someone to death for their own gratification, like Jesus, I didn’t think I’d have to spell that one out. I am aware that the second game tries to do whatever it can, including retconning their own original story, to paint Ellie and (especially!) Joel as evil. And for a considerable amount of the player base this actually worked, and while I cannot find it in me to condemn them (we all experience stories differently after all), I reserve the right to reject arguments in defense of Abby such as “all people are forced to do bad things during the apocalypse” and “does context even matter?”. If the only way you can defend/justify Abby's actions is to remove all context and nuance, then your reasoning is built on quicksand.

[mimisempai]

The evidences of our love are everywhere

Summary:

Thor is worried about his little brother's happiness and spies on Loki and Mobius in a more or less subtle way.

Tumblr request : Thor spying on Loki and Mobius.

As usual I got carried away and added most of my favorite tropes :p

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33254275

1643 words - Rating G

"I know it, that you are watching us Thor."

Thor wanted to protest at first, but even though he hadn't known Mobius long, he knew the man was perceptive and there was no point in trying to lie to him.

He sighed, "I admit it."

"I suspect you have no malicious intent," Mobius said kindly, "but I would like to know why."

Thor thought about what he would say in response.

He could see that his little brother was happy. That he had changed, or rather that he had become the best version of himself.

And this was partly thanks to Mobius, but he needed to see it with his own eyes. In their daily lives. So he had been watching for every moment he could spy on them during their stay in Asgard.

**********

One evening, he had overheard a scene he never thought he would see.

Mobius with a brush in his hand was sitting behind Loki and asked him softly, "Should I start brushing your hair?"

Loki nodded and closed his eyes, as if he already knew he was going to like it. Like it had become something familiar.

Mobius started at the bottom, taking care not to pull, then slowly worked his way up. After a while, Mobius' fingers replaced the brush and it was clear that Loki was enjoying it. He did not startle or protest. He turned his back to someone and let them touch him. This showed how much he trusted Mobius.

Not so long ago, such contact would have been unimaginable. If it was anyone else but Mobius, Thor thought, Loki would never have allowed it.

Thor could hardly tear himself away from the scene since he was so fascinated.

Mobius stopped and his hands slid over Loki's shoulders and Loki held his head back with a gentle smile on his face. Mobius leaned over and kissed him gently.

Thor thought it was time for him to retire.

**********

" Tell me candidly, is there anything in me, except my ugliness, which displeases you? Do you object to my birth, my temper, my manners?”

“No, truly,” replied the princess; “I like everything in you, except”—and she hesitated courteously—”except your appearance.”

Thor had just entered the living room of Loki and Mobius' suite and stopped in front of the incredible scene he had before his eyes.

Loki was lying on the couch, his head on Mobius' lap, Mobius had one hand in his hair and in the other hand a book that he was reading aloud.

Thor held his breath, because the two men had neither seen nor heard him.

Mobius continued reading.

“Then, madam, I need not lose my happiness; for if I have the gift of making clever whosoever I love best, you also are able to make the person you prefer as handsome as ever you please. Could you love me enough to do that?”

“I think I could,” said the princess, and her heart being greatly softened towards him, she wished that he might become the handsomest prince in all the world. No sooner had she done so than Riquet with the Tuft appeared in her eyes the most elegant young man she had ever seen.

Loki sneered, "Of course, to be happy, they both have to be beautiful and smart. I know it's a fairy tale and doesn't fit reality, but frankly, I'd never read that to my kids."

"Sweetheart," Mobius said softly while stroking Loki's hair soothingly before continuing, "Listen to the end, I think you'll enjoy it more."

Loki harrumphed, but remained silent as Mobius continued, " Some people have said that this was no fairy-gift, but that love created the change. They declare that the princess, when she thought over her lover’s perseverance, patience, good-humour, and discretion, and counted his numerous fine qualities of mind and disposition, saw no longer the deformity of his body or the plainness of his features. However this may be, it is certain that the princess married him; that either she retained her good sense, or he never felt the want of it; and he never again became ugly—or, at least, not in his wife’s eyes, so they both lived very happy until they died. Morality, all is beautiful in those whom we love, and those whom we love are witty and intelligent"

Loki turned on his back and looked at Mobius.

Thor stepped back into the doorway, he was no longer able to see but he heard Loki, "Mobius, it's kind of like the two of us in the end," he chuckled before continuing, "except that we're both princes. But what I mean is that you have seen beyond what I have shown the world."

Thor heard Mobius nod before answering, "And you, Loki, have opened my mind.  So there is nothing to stop us from living very happy until we die."

The only thing Thor heard again before walking away was his little brother's undoubtedly happy laughter.

**********

Thor had not often had the opportunity to see Loki in his Jotun form. He knew that even after all this time it was still an extremely sensitive subject for his brother, so he was surprised to see him like this, sitting on the balcony railing of their suite, looking at the sky.

He was about to join him, when Mobius appeared next to him bringing what appeared to be some refreshments.

When Loki was aware of Mobius' presence, he began to revert to his Aesir form. But Mobius protested, "Loki, you know you don't have to hide from me, Sweetheart. If you want to take on that appearance, I have no problem with it."

And as Loki returned to his Jotun appearance, Mobius put down the tray and approached him, gently touching his face, as if he was used to doing it, knowing that if he lingered too long, the cold sensation would be too much.

Loki said in a voice Thor didn't know, "Do you really not mind touching me while I'm like this?"

Mobius shook his head and replied, "No, the only downside is that I can't touch you or kiss you like I want to, but otherwise I have no problem with this shape. I told you before, I love you, I love everything about you and it's part of you so I love this form too."

Then Mobius sat Loki down on a small bench that was on the balcony, put a pillow on Loki's lap, and lay down next to him resting his head on the pillow then said softly, "And you see, even when you are in this form, it is possible for us to be close."

As he walked away, Thor thought to himself that he would not soon forget his brother's amazed expression.

**********

The next time, Thor had first heard just laughter, as he went to knock on the door of Mobius and Loki's suite.

"No, Mobius! Stop it! You're scratching! I don't want you to kiss me if it scratches like that!"Then Thor heard Mobius reply in a sulky voice, which was quite rare, "Loki..."

"No, no, no your itchy skin will not come in contact with my delicate skin!"

He heard Mobius cough before he replied, "Then would you please shave me?"

Then the two men seemed to be gone, and Thor couldn't help but be curious and slowly opened the door. The living room was empty, but Thor heard voices that seemed to come from a small adjoining room. He knew he shouldn't, but he peeked through the half-open door anyway.

Mobius was sitting with a towel over his shoulders, shaving cream on his cheeks and chin. Loki had rolled up his sleeves, and was holding a razor. He leaned over to Mobius, and with a serious look on his face asked, "Do you trust me?"

Mobius answered firmly, looking him straight in the eye, "Intimately." before stretching his chin forward and closing his eyes.

Thor once again baffled, discreetly turned back and left their suite.

**********

"I'm sorry Mobius. Of course I had no malicious intent. I guess I just wanted to make sure that Loki was happy. It was something I didn't expect to see. I think I wanted to see it for myself, I'm sorry I was kind of a stalker, I-"

Mobius stopped him by putting a hand on his forearm, "It's okay Thor, you don't have to justify yourself. I know Loki's life, his whole life, so I understand perfectly well the need to reassure you, but I can promise you one thing, that I will always do everything to make him happy. That will always be my priority. Loki is the only family I have so I will always take care of him."

Thor nodded visibly moved as a voice echoed behind him, "You see, brother you don't have to worry. My happiness is truly real."

As if to prove what he had just said was true, Loki approached Mobius and put his arm around his waist before kissing him on the cheek.

"This man Thor, is the person who allowed me to change what I thought was my destiny, he saw the good in me, and in doing so I finally believed that I was capable of doing good."

Thor answered softly, "I always knew you were capable of doing good, little brother, but I'm glad you believe it now too."

Then he stepped forward and took the two men in a strong embrace before stepping back and adding, "Mobius, there was only one thing that was wrong with everything you told me before."

Mobius and Loki looked at him in surprise.

Thor added with a gentle smile, "You said Loki was your only family, but that's not true, it's not true anymore. Welcome to the family. We are your family and you are ours now."

_________

Series of Oneshot : Together, for all time, always

Fairy Tale used : Riquet and the tuft, oft underrated or shallowly interpreted. Shaving scene, inspired by Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle shaving scene in CSI

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

[ripjaws]

Ben 10 Survey Results!

Huge thank you to everyone who submitted a response, it was really fun looking through them all and I was genuinely surprised by the results of some of the questions.

Hopefully this will work under a read more because it's quite long and I don't want people to have to scroll a hundred years to get past it.

If anyone has any questions or anything please feel free to ask! :)

Thanks again!

General

Q1. How would you describe your gender?

36% - Female 25.3% - Male 24% - Non-binary 8% - Prefer not to say 4% - Agender 2.7% - Genderfluid

Q2. How would you describe your sexuality?

32% - Bisexual 20% - Heterosexual 20 % - Asexual 8% - Lesbian 6.7% - Prefer not to say 5.4% - Pansexual 4% - Gay 1.3% - Demisexual 1.3% - Questioning 1.3% - Polysexual

Q3. Current age

48% - 20-24 39% - 15-19 13.3% - 25-30 1.3% - Older than 30 1.3% - Younger than 15

Q4. Age when you first became interested in Ben 10

86.7% - Younger than 15 9.3% - 15-19 2.7% - 20-24 1.3% - 25-30

Episodes and season

Q1. Which series did you watch first?

88% - Original Series 9.3% - Alien Force 1.3% - Omniverse 1.3% - Reboot

Q2. Rank the series in order of preference

[IMAGE ID: Five separate groups of five vertical bar charts. The individual columns for each group are coloured in the same order and corresponds to what ranking they recieved on that question of the survey. According to the key at the top of the image the order is; blue = 1, red = 2, orange = 3, green = 4 & purple = 5. The Y axis of the graph goes from zero to thirty in intervals of ten.

The first group is labelled ‘Original Series’ and shows that it got twenty votes in blue, seventeen votes in red, sixteen votes in orange, ten votes in green & twelve votes in purple.

The second group is labelled ‘Alien Force’ and shows that it got nine votes in blue, eighteen votes in red, twenty-one votes in orange, twenty-two votes in green & five votes in purple.

The third group is labelled ‘Ultimate Alien’ and shows that it got thirteen votes in blue, ten votes in red, fourteen votes in orange, twenty-two votes in green & sixteen votes in purple.

The fourth group is labelled ‘Omniverse’ and shows that it got eighteen votes in blue, fifteen votes in red, seventeen votes in orange, fifteen votes in green & ten votes in purple.

The fifth and final group is labelled ‘Reboot’ and shows that it got fifteen votes in blue, fifteen votes in red, seven votes in orange, six votes in green & thirty-two votes in purple. END IMAGE ID]

Q3. Favourite season (Original Series)

40% - Season 1 18.7% - Season 2 18.7% - Season 3 17.3% - Season 4 5.3% - Don’t like/Haven’t watched

Most popular episodes were Ken 10 (S4E10) & Kevin 11 (S1E7)

Q4. Favourite season (Alien Force)

52% - Season 2 28% - Season 1 16% - Season 3 4% - Don’t like/Haven’t watched

Most popular episodes were Alone Together (S2E2) & Save the Last Dance (S2E4)

Q5. Favourite Season (Ultimate Alien)

36% - Season 1 25.3% - Season 3 20% - Don’t like/Haven’t watched 18.7% - Season 2

Most popular episodes were Forge of Creation (S1E16) & Duped (S1E2)

Q6. Favourite Season (Omniverse)

18.7% - Don’t like/Haven’t watched 18.7% - Season 2 16% - Season 5 12% - Season 6 10.7% - Season 1 9.3% - Season 8 8% - Season 4 5.3% - Season 3 1.3% - Season 7

Most popular episodes were And Then There Were None (S6E1) & And Then There Was Ben (S6S2)

Q7. Favourite Season (Reboot)

60% - Don’t like/Haven’t watched 17.3% - Season 4 10.7% - Season 3 6.7% - Season 1 5.3% - Season 2

Most popular episodes were Omni-tricked (S1E37) & Innervasion (S2E36)

Q8. Which live action movie did you prefer?

40% - Alien Swarm 22.7% - Race Against time 22.7% - Didn’t like either 14.7% - Haven’t watched either

Characters and aliens

Q1. Favourite main character

45.3% - Ben Tennyson 28% - Kevin Levin 17.3% - Rook Blonko 9.3% - Gwen Tennyson

Some ‘Why’ responses:

Ben -

I know it's a really basic pick but I enjoy Ben alot as a character. Even though I feel like he took an extremely sharp turn into immaturity in the final season of Alien Force onward (from what I've heard it was due to ratings), it still fit well after a bit of time of adjustment. Him being rash and selfish at times while still having a good heart feels...very human. I'm a huge fan of flawed protagonists and Ben is a prime example of such, imo! Plus I hradcanon that he has autism and it's a big comfort for me :)

I love his potential as a character and the way he hands having such power and responsibility thrust upon him. Ben has done so much for the people in his life and the universe, and I absolutely adore him.

I think of him like a kind person who tries his best to the right thing, he's pretty chill and optimist and in my mind he's a chaotic bi and i can relate to that

Kevin -

I like that he's always been an antihero in the original series. And in the reboot I really like the direction the showrunners are taking his character. He has a different backstory, motivations and I'm really enjoying his character development. It's a fresh take on his story and they're treating it with care, which I really appreciate. His Antitrix aliens also have some really incredible designs.

Cool powers, uncommon character in children's media, especially as a primary character often cast in a good light (ex con, high school dropout, masculine, not emotionally mature). His character development is some of the best in the series.

Gods, we could be here forever... Okay, short version- 1) I can relate to him on a mental health level, especially in the OG series we seemed to have similar issues and to handle them in similar ways 2) there's a lot of depth and variance to his character, he's angry and aggressive and dangerous but also a dork, a sweetheart, and very affectionate once he lets his walls down, he loves cars and supernatural romance, violence and magical girls, he'll rescue an aggressive dog for no reason other than it needed help but also he might consider how much he could get for selling you, he's a complex character and he's allowed to be in a way the Tennysons can't because of how firmly they sit in the Hero seat 3) for all of this, we never really know all that much about him and his experiences, at least in comparison to what we know is there- we never learn about his time traveling the galaxy, we haven't heard anything about his time stuck in time, it's only in the reboot we're getting trustworthy information about his background and even then it's rare tidbits- he's ripe for exploring in fic, headcanon, and so-on 4) his powers in the OG series, his status as mutant or alien or both who knows anymore leaves a lot of doors open to play and to look at the world through different angles 5) dude has turned into six different monstrous chimera forms over the course of the franchise and honestly you have to support that sort've shit in media otherwise they might stop

Rook -

Alien catboy with a glorious voice and have you seen those arms??? And he's so polite while also being hilarious when he gets a little rude/snarky and his character development is amazing!!

While I would normally say Ben himself, Rook is his only friend that hasn't tried to kill him. Additionally, he provides Ben with guidance as well as support the Gwen and Kevin are fickle about.

Having an actual alien joining the cast and serving at Ben's foil worked well to me.

Gwen -

Smart, talented, funny, snarky, confident, and super cute. Jock-prep-nerd energy all in one. Deserves the world. Criminally ignored by the majority of the fandom. Knows karate and judo?? College at 16?? Icon.

Angel, can do no wrong, was capable of so much more than the show let her do, potential to be the most powerful member of the team if they'd just let her go a lil feral sometimes :/

She was a good voice of reason most of the time. Her powers were really interesting and overall I think she had a lot of wasted potential having to be sidelined since the series was about Ben ultimately

Q2. Favourite minor characters

40 votes - Paradox

22 votes - Max Tennyson

18 votes - Tetrax

17 votes - Argit

16 votes - Julie Yamamoto

15 votes - Azmuth

12 votes - Ester

10 votes - Looma Red Wind

9 votes - Glitch

9 votes - Kai Green

7 votes - Alan Albright

6 votes - Jimmy Jones

4 votes - Cooper Daniels

3 votes - Eunice

3 votes - Helen Wheels

2 votes - Elena Validus

2 votes - Manny Armstrong

1 vote - Cash Murray

1 vote - Driba

Other votes went to Penny Bennyson, Kenny Tennyson/Spanner, Lucy Mann, Rook Shar, Eddie Grandsmith, Myaxx and Pakmar.

Q3. Ship or Zed

64% - Ship 36% - Zed

Q4. Favourite main antagonist 

20% - Albedo 13.3% - Kevin 11 12% - Vilgax 10.7% - Charmcaster 10.7% - Zs’Skayr 9.3% - Malware 5.3% - Forever Knights 5.3% - Eon 4% - Highbreed & DNAliens 4% - Aggregor 1.3% - Servantis & Rooters 1.3% - Khyber 1.3% - Dagon & the Esoterica

Some ‘Why’ responses for top 3:

Albedo -

When I first saw him during the airing of Good Copy, Bad Copy, I was scared that Albedo might be a one-and-done evil clone that doesn't get much development. These fears went away, and I was pleased to find out about his backstory and motives, just a sour soul in an unpleasant situation. Even in Ultimate Alien with his reappearance episode, he tries to work on his own to cope in a horrid human world. He isn't necessarily malicious until Ben gets in his way, he just wants to return to his own body and leave, even stating that he wasn't going to fight Ben anymore while he had temporarily returned to his Galvan form. I know DJW stated in some interview that Albedo could never be redeemed, but I believe there's some hope if he gets help. And I'm a sucker for those redemption arcs :)

Tragic frog man that could have been helped but nobody helped him and he doubled down on his hatred which led to him getting stuck in a cycle of revenge and punishment and it's the tragedy of how much better things could have been for him if someone just helped him that I love so much!!

Kevin 11 -

He’s very dangerous and has a terrifying power to absorb electricity and living DNA to have the same powers of who he absorbed it from and even turn himself into a mutant with all those powers combined leading to destructive power 

Kevin was a good antagonist and a good protagonist, although i feel the transition was rushed. Anti-hero kevin in the reboot is great!

Vilgax -

He was always the endgame villian for Ben, despite how many battles they've had, despite countless losses, he always tried to stay one step ahead, and plan everything.

"Speak with care, Psyphon. Your counsel is valuable...not irreplaceable."

Q5. Favourite minor villains 

38 votes - Animo 20 votes - Hex 18 votes - Michael Morningstar/Darkstar 14 votes - SixSix 13 votes - Zombozo 9 votes - Vreedle family 9 votes - Vulkanus 8 votes - Rojo 5 votes - Inspector 13 5 votes - Billy Billions 5 votes - Will Harangue 4 votes - Fistrick 4 votes - Nyancy Chan 3 votes - Lord Decibel 3 votes - Simian 3 votes - Subdora 3 votes - Viktor 2 votes - Addwaitya 2 votes - Fistina 2 votes - Kraab 2 votes - Psyphon 2 votes - Steam Smythe 2 votes - Sunder 1 vote - Liam 1 vote - Ssserpent

Other votes went to Maurice & Sydney, Bugg Brothers, Alternate evil Bens, and the Mummy.

Q6. Favourite canon relationship

66.7% - Gwen & Kevin 13.3% - Max Tennyson & Verdona 5.3% - Ben & Kai 4% - Rook & Rayona 1.3% - Julie & Herve 1.3% - Max & Xylene

Q7. Favourite non-canon ship

36% - I don’t have one 30.7% - Ben & Rook 6.7% - Ben & Kevin 4% - Ben & Julie

Other responses included Ben & Rex, Kai & Julie, Looma & Attea, Alan & Cooper, Ben & Looma, Kevin & Manny, Gwen & Cooper, Ben & Ester, Max & Phil, Azmuth & Paradox, Cooper & Elena, Kai & Ester, Ben & Zak Saturday, Ben & Eddie, Ben & Albedo, Ben & Kevin & Gwen, Kenny & Devlin, OC & canon, and Ben & a therapist. 

Q8. Favourite alien introduced in the Original Series

18.7% - XLR8 17.3% - Upgrade 13.3% - Ghostfreak 10.7% - Diamondhead 9.3% - Heatblast 8% - Wildmutt 6.7% - Ditto 2.7% - Blitzwolfer 2.7% - Snare-oh 2.7% - Grey Matter 1.3% - Cannonbolt 1.3% - Four Arms

Q9. Least favourite alien introduced in the Original Series

22.7% - Eye Guy 18.7% - Spitter 8% - Articguana 8% - Frankenstrike 6.7% - Upchuck 6.7% - Stinkfly 5.3% - Buzzshock 5.3% - Snare-oh 4% - Four Arms 2.7% - Blitzwolfer 2.7% - Ditto 2.7% - Wildmutt 2.7% - Grey Matter 1.3% - Cannonbolt 1.3% - Diamondhead 1.3% - Ghostfreak

Q10. Favourite alien introduced in Alien Force

46.7% - Big Chill 17.3% - Rath 8% - Goop 6.7% - Lodestar 5.3% - Swampfire 4% - Chromastone 4% - Spidermonkey 2.7% - Alien X 2.7% - Echo Echo 1.3% - Humungousaur 1.3% - Jetray

Q11. Least favourite alien introduced in Alien Force

18.7% - Lodestar 17.3% - Brainstorm 13.3% - Alien X 10.7% - Humungousaur 10.7% - Spidermonkey 8% - Jetray 8% - Chromastone 5.3% - Goop 5.3% - Echo Echo 2.7% - Rath

Q12. Favourite alien introduced in Ultimate Alien

18.7% - Juryrigg 16% - AmpFibian 14.7% - Clockwork 12% - NRG 8% - Armodrillo 8% - Shocksquatch 8% - Terraspin 8% - Water Hazard 2.7% - Chamalien 2.7% - Fasttrack 1.3% - Eatle

Q13. Least favourite alien introduced in Ultimate Alien

30.7% - Fasttrack 18.7% - Eatle 13.3% - Juryrigg 9.3% - Chamalien 8% - Shocksquatch 6.7% - Terraspin 5.3% - Water Hazard 4% - Clockwork 1.3% - AmpFibian 1.3% - Armodrillo 1.3% - NRG

Q14. Favourite Ultimate Form

38.7% - Echo Echo 24% - Big Chill 10.7% - Swampfire 9.3% - Way Big 8% - Wildmutt 6.7% - Spidermonkey 1.3% - Cannonbolt 1.3% - Humungousaur

Q15. Favourite alien introduced in Omniverse

29.3% - Feedback 13.3% - Pesky Dust 12% - Gravattack 9.3% - Ball Weevil 8% - Bullfrag 6.7% - Whampire 5.3% - Bloxx 4% - Atomix 4% - Walkatrout 2.7% - Gutrot 1.3% - Crashhopper 1.3% - Kickin Hawk 1.3% - Toepick 1.3% - The Worst

Q16. Least favourite alien introduced in Omniverse

24% - The Worst 14.7% - Bloxx 12% - Mole-Stache 8% - Bullfrag 6.7% - Astrodactyl 6.7% - Kickin Hawk 5.3% - Atomix 5.3% - Gutrot 4% - Crashhopper 4% - Walkatrout 2.7% - Toepick 1.3% - Ball Weevil

Q17. Favourite alternate Ben timeline

29.3% - No watch Ben 24% - Gwen 10 17.3% - Ben 10,000 8% - Mad Ben 6.7% - Dimension 23 6.7% - Eon 4% - Nega Ben 2.7% - Benzarro 1.3% - Bad Ben

Misc.

Q1. Favourite watch design

37.3% - Original Series 29.3% - Omniverse 17.3% - Alien Force 9.3% - Ultimatrix 6.7% - Reboot

Q2. Favourite alternate watch design

29.3% - Biomnitrix 20% - Gwen 10 18.7% - Negatrix 17.3% - Antitrix 8% - Power Watch 6.7% - Hero Watch

Q3. Favourite planet visited

32% - Anur Transyl 20% - Revonnah 13.3% - Mykdl��dy 10.7% - Galvan Prime 9.3% - Vilgaxia 6.7% - Piscciss 5.3% - Petropia 2.7% - Khoros

Q4. Favourite locations

34 votes - Undertown 23 votes - Ledgerdomain 23 votes - Null Void 22 votes - Bellwood 19 votes - Friedkin University 18 votes - Mr. Smoothy 16 votes - Forge of Creation 15 votes - Los Soledad 7 votes - Burger Shack 7 votes - Plumber Headquarters 4 votes - Incarcecon 2 votes - Mt. Rushmore Plumber base 2 votes - The Perplexahedron 1 vote - Plumber Academy

Q5. Favourite Vehicle

33.3% - Kevin’s car (Original) 25.3% - Rustbucket 18.7% - Proto-TRUK 13.3% - DX Mark 10 5.3% - Kevin’s car (Omniverse) 4% - Glitch

Q6. Favourite Kevin mutation

40% - Original series 20% - Ken 10 future 12% - Ultimate Alien 8% - Omniverse 8% - Alien Force 6.7% - Omniverse flashback 5.3% - Reboot

Q7. Favourite Omniverse redesign

66.7% - Ben 26.6% - Kevin 6.7% - Gwen

Q8. Least favourite Omniverse redesign

76% - Gwen 18.7% - Kevin 5.3% - Ben

Thoughts

(Putting every single response here would make this insanely long so I’ve just put the most detailed/most echoed responses & include all sides of opinions when possible.)

Q1. Thoughts on the Osmosians retcon?

Okay, first up, do you know how much work I had already put into building shit surrounding those fuckers by the time of the retcons? I had been working on this crap since AF season 2! But no, they gotta go ruin that in one fell swoop, thank you, much appreciated. Second up, I wibble on it? Like, working with mutants is fun and interesting and I've done plenty of shit with them as well, but in the end I'm always going to be a pro-Ossys person. Mostly the retcons left more questions than they gave answers (how, if Osmosians never existed, did everybody and their mother know Kevin was an Osmosian? why, if Osmosians never existed, did none of the people not-involved in this whole disaster with Servantis's mindfuckery look at Aggregor being reported as an Osmosian and go 'wtf that's not a thing'? do they really mean to tell me that not only did Kevin never bother to look into his heritage, but neither did research-happy Gwen? or am I expected to believe the Rooters made enough fake information and put it out publicly that they fooled literally everyone? and if they did then why? when it would've done the same thing with less effort if they'd just, let Kevin be a mutant with a Plumber father who died) and I feel like they didn't really give enough to justify them. One of those cases of 'making your work less interesting to make it more 'accurate''. Personally, I forever keep working on Osmosians (where's the line where it just starts becoming your shit, I think I may be heading there) and I love on mutants and I flip between or combine the two as needed for whatever story I want to tell.

While the fake memories plot isn't great I think it's for the best because the original series meant for Kevin to be a mutant while UAF changed it to alien. I like him better as a mutant human. Too much alien connections in UAF.

I could scream for hours. Easily one of the worst decisions they ever made. Omniverse picks and chooses what canon to follow from AFUA + the original run and throws it in without care or concern to what it means for the timeline. Retconning something and keeping the effect it had is just bad writing. Kevin coming to terms with not being human and that’s okay was important to me when I was a kid. Knowing that he’s just been on an unending series of brainwashed nonsense all his life deprives him of his agency. I hate this decision more than several dozen essays could ever convey.

I wasn't mad about it. Mainly because I liked the idea of Kevin being a mutant than an alien. Alien Force really was pushing that aspect even with Gwen. To the point where she called her powers 'not spells' because of her heritage. Stupid that the rooters and fake memories were a thing, but necessary.

I was never a big fan of the Rooters Arc, but this doesn't bother me too much. It makes UA a little weird with Aggragor, but again, it doesn't really bother me, as most of Omniverse didn't explore Kevin (While UA Did), and was mostly about Ben.

Osmosians were such a cool idea, and it would've allowed for more exploration into what Mike Morningstar was as well, but just writing them off as mutates is so boring. As well as it makes Aggregors whole part not really make sense, like who is he then.

While well executed, it was unnecessary. You could have had the same story line where Kevin was used to mutate other kids and still had him an Alien. You could have had it where it was another alien species that used Osmosians to morph other species to theirs; a call back to the DNAliens if you want.

Q2. Thoughts on how the Ultimate Kevin situation was dealt with in UA?

Terrible. They wanted to go far. They wanted to go dark. But they didn't think their viewership could handle it so they dialed it back. I will always be curious to know what they would have written if they didn't have those constraints. Because the final product was a mess of contrasting tone and unsure footing about how far to go with questioning our hero's moral compass. They wanted to push Ben to see what he would do and apparently, we got that he would kill Kevin and maybe Gwen if she got in the way of saving the universe.... but not really because he didn't. And then the gang is happy all back together like none of it ever happened. They wanted to explore dark themes but have it leave no consequences on the characters. Also... it was so ableist and awful and Kevin deserved better than how Ben and Max (and the writers) treated him.

If they did everything the same but the argument was 'we need to capture him and lock him away' instead of 'we need to kill him'? I would be fine. It's the fact that they slipped so quickly into murder, into murder by his 16-yo bestfriend, that gets me. Like, there's apparently no space between 'recklessly risk our safety trying to talk him down' and 'Ol' Yeller his ass' and that just does not sit right with me.

Ben should have looked for alternate solutions before jumping on the "Let's kill Kevin" train. I understand why he did (this took place immediately post-Aggregor so Ben was still traumatized about having lost so many people and because he failed and "let" Kevin get turned into Ultimate Kevin, he felt as though every person Kevin hurt would be on him) but I wish he hadn't.

Pretty good actually. I like Gwen's emotions becoming a hindrance to the job, I like Ben putting on his big boy pants and I like Kevin going up to Aggregor and saying "y'know, I was a big boy villain once and I'm tried of just getting kicked around" (obviously paraphrasing)

Other than the scenario being overplayed, I think Ben was right. Kevin was eventually going to end up killing Gwen and he'd already put others in the hospital. He needed to be stopped.

Ben jumping straight to murder, yikes. Kevin dismissing Gwen to hang out with Ben almost as soon as he turned back to normal, yikes. Otherwise, it was an interesting plotline.

Really bad. Really shows how awful max and the plumbers really are. I mean , the guy saved the universe and now he clearly needs help but all they wanted to do was kill him.

it really felt like Ben just wanted to murder Kevin because he saved the universe that one time and Ben couldn't stand someone else being the hero for once

The worst, Max straight away wanting to put him down makes u wonder how long he's been waiting for that kind of opportunity.

I'm fine with it, maybe they could have spent some time dealing with the consequences of Kevin's actions, possibly even the ramifications it had on Ben and Kevin's friendship, but overall I'm ok with it.

Q3. Thoughts on the Plumbers

Plumbers ain't shit. Individuals can be acceptable or not but the organization as a whole has too much power, not enough oversight, utilizes child labor, uses a deathtrap of a hellscape dimension as a penal colony, has been shown onscreen sentencing people to imprisonment in said dimension without a trial, and I'm sorry the fact that a Plumber official could walk into a base with his team, assault several members of staff, attempt to kidnap a boy, admit to having and planning to continue to run illegal experiments on him and others, admit to having altered the memories of other Plumber officials, all in front of the entire base, and nothing was done until he tried to kill the golden child Ben 10 and failed, got his ass kicked by one of his victims, and in a place where presumably there were security cameras? And that the response was, again, to sentence him and his team without trial, take all the evidence, and peace out without so much as looking at nonetheless apologizing to his victims? Yeah, that don't fly. Doesn't sound like an organization that has it's shit together. Either the Plumbers don't have their shit together or the higher ups were in on it until it became something that could actually damage their reputation, and either way I Do Not Approve.

They're pretty cool. I know everyone's talking about how Plumbers are space cops and therefore absolutely corrupt and bad but this is a fictional universe in which corruption in organized forces isn't a necessity. Plumbers don't function the same way real cops do, they don't follow they same chain of command, they don't have the same motivations and they definitely don't have the same biases. Plumbers perform an essential function in the Ben 10 universe, which is to capture and contain aliens who aim to hurt anyone (or those who Ben defeats).

My knowledge of the Plumbers' unfortunately doesn't go beyond UA. They're not my favorite thing ever. Some of my least favorite episodes were the ones where the Plumbers or Plumbers' kids are involved, except for the episode "Everybody Talks About the Weather". The way Alan is introduced is really cool and very X Files-esque, and it ties into the DNAlien plot very well. But throughout the series I stopped caring about the Plumbers in general and I think that concept was given too much attention.

They don't do what they're meant to. They act like heros yet I don't think I've ever seen them do anything heroic. The DNAliens situation, the aggregor situation, dagon etc etc. Where were they??? Why did they leave the fate of the universe in the hands of a 16 year-old boy? Ben has the omnitrix sure , but he's still just one guy, how much can he fight? They showed up every once in a while but that's it. They were useless.

Of course the Plumbers have their problems, but looking at most characters we've met that were plumbers seem to be pretty good people. Max, Patelliday and Rook (and even Kevin, technically) are great examples of Plumbers, Servantis being a bad example of one.

Honestly liked it when it was disbanded. It’s cool they introduced Rook but like there’s so much wrong with how they run most things. My favorite version of the plumbers was tbh the first live action movie. Where it was just a bunch of old people watching out for Ben cause they actually cared about the people they protected (in this case Ben).

Q4. Thoughts on Grandpa Max

(The responses to this one were way more divided than I thought they would be omg)

He said Kevin was a mad dog that needed to put down. He's terrible. Military. Secretive. Kept his kids out of the loop and probably told the grandkids not to tell them about a huge and extremely dangerous part of their lives. Thus creating a gap between them and their parents that didn't need to be there. Child endangerment. Other than that....? He's important to Ben and Gwen so I tolerate him and he had some good life lessons to share. Also legendary adult figure in a kids cartoon who had relationships with multiple aliens.

He’s incredible, he worked in the Air Force, was going to be one of the first people on the moon (But he refused because he joined the Plumbers) had children with an Energy Being, he has a few grandchildren, and not to mention knows how to still kick butt despite him being in his 60s and was there to help Ben grow

He’s a complicated old man. Love him to bits in the original run and I love him in AF! He’s a utilitarian doing what needs to be done and suffering the consequences when need be. He does what he thinks is going to lead to the best possible outcome for the most people in any situation.

Needs to get knocked off his pedestal more often, both in and out of canon. He's got good traits, they're very nice, but there's other shit that gets glossed over, ignored, brushed aside, too easily forgiven, and just. They really needed a character who served double duty being a counterforce to him. Somebody to go 'wtf is wrong with you?' or 'yeah, no'. Ideally this would've been Patilidae, but no. We couldn't be so lucky.

Conflicted. Was he grooming Ben for plumber work, or just trying to support him in a situation he knew would be dangerous? It’s not made very clear...

I think he's got some sort of narcissistic personality disorder. I just can't forgive him for making Ben carry the burden of the Omnitrix at the age of 10 without ever explaining anything, and for not letting Ben and Gwen know he was alive after the Null Void grenade incident in AF. He clearly could have, if Helen could reach Gwen so easily. I think he views Ben more as an asset than a grandson at this point and that's really sad.

I love him! The progression from family hero to questionable old man felt kinda natural, like learning about a family member as you grow older and realizing they aren't perfect

He's awesome. He was a good role model for Ben and he was very supportive to both his grandkids. I hate that they made him mute in Omniverse and changed his design so drastically. I loved Max in every season from the original till Ultimate Alien. After that, he was pretty much just a prop.

Q5. And finally, give me your most controversial Ben 10 opinion!

It seems to be the worst thing to say that Ben isn't perfect and that Kai isn't demonic. And it's pretty standard for the women of color characters in every fandom to get the most hate so to me all the hate towards Kai when her personality is so close to Ben's AND she's also more hated than the ex-villain and the actual villains that tried to kill Ben multiple times just seems- hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. But really, and really I've needed to say this for a long time but I'm afraid of being strangled. Some fans will denounce incest/pedo shippers and people that interact with them and then reblog from a proud Bwen shipper with no self-awareness. Please I have the tags blacklisted are you safe to interact with and you just don't know? Or you're just saying you hate Bwen shippers to give yourself an out for reblogging their content????? Or are you all closeted incest shippers trying to maintain a public image???? I'm at my limit.

I do not think the reboot should have existed tbh :,D I know that it has a ton of fans and all due respect to them, but from what I've seen of it I don't think it was worth tossing away four interconnected series' worth of development and starting from scratch to end up with what we have now. I would be fine with it existing if we got an Omniverse continuation alongside it, but CN screwed OV over by the decisions they made near the end of it's run. So it's probably impossible it would return, even moreso because of the reboot already airing, and it would probably confuse younger audiences that don't know about Omniverse if two Ben 10's were running separately. I just really miss Omniverse, it had more potential and the reboot placed the final nail in for it to ever return.

The Ben 10 reboot is fun and meant more for kids rather than the ones watching for nostalgia. I didn’t like how Gwevin were sidelined and downplayed to make Ben look better. Sometimes it felt like Gwen was a bit naggy towards the two of them. I didn’t like how the fact that she was the only female lead how she had sometimes act like a parent or that they put Gwen and Kevin together just because. Their relationship felt forced and awkward a lot of the time. Omniverse’s designs while controversial were fun and unique but I didn’t like what they did with Gwevin, especially Gwen.

Kevin is totally smart enough to figure out an Omnitrix with the blueprints in front of him, we see him do amazing shit with technology- including the Omnitrix- in the OG series, people just don't notice he's as brilliant as Gwen because the show never made it as big a point that he and Ben were so very smart like it did with her before the reboot, so now they're being forced to acknowledge that Kevin might have two braincells to rub together and they're pushing against the supposed 'change'.

idk if it's controversial but there should've been way more episodes of just gwen & kevin & rook without ben or ben having a very minor role in the episode. just more time for those three to shine and show off how capable they are without ben always having to come in to save the day at the end

Gwen and Kevin aren't good friends to Ben. I mean they were initially, but once he got famous and they didn't, they stopped putting more than a half-assed effort to help him. They also don't really consider his feelings nor really care about the toll heroing takes on him.

The Reboot has the best jokes in the entire franchise and I don't why people give it so much crap.

Kai Green is an abuser and I refuse to find anything redeemable about her character. "Worthy to wield Excalibur," my entire ass. And Ben and Julie's breakup was good for them both, as people, and just as much her fault as it was his.

Ben 10 is an incredibly flawed show and people need to stop getting butt hurt when the blatant misogyny, and copoganda in the show get pointed out or when any even minority critiques Ben's character.

Ben is the worst character in Ben 10 and the whole franchise would be better off without him.

Azmuth is fine for the most part and malware was not exactly the most understanding person

I think Ben should've stayed single. Every episode where romance (or the girl Ben was dating) was the focus of the episode was pretty boring to me, personally.

Ben's parents were right to try to stop him from being a hero, so were Gwen's.

Ultimate alien force season 2 and 3 were amazing.( not comparing the OS since obviously that's the best, or omniverse since I haven't watched all the episodes of that)

Pierce deserved to die for being a boring character. I just wish his death had actual consequences.

The reboot is a genuine improvement over the original continuity in MANY ways!

Oh geez, um, Kai was a good character, just her and ben were obviously toxic. Not everyone needs to like Ben and she isn't an abuser, they just don't get along and that's fine but by God, why did the writers have to force them in a relationship? That's all I could really think of on the spot. Oh! And that the first two season of AF were a watered down version of Ben and the plot focused more on Gwen and Kevin than it did Ben. He felt like a side character and I'm not mad about that, but I don't understand why people praise that characterization of ben when I remember more about gwen and Kevin then Ben. Dude, I've been watching the show for the past week and I can name more about kevin and gwen because they're memorable.

Azmuth's hot af, but y'all aren't ready for that conversation...

----

If you’ve made it this far then thank you!

Again huge thank you to everyone who submitted a response and if you have any questions/comments please feel free to leave them in the replies/send me an ask/dm/whatever ^^

[shyneanon]

I don't entirely know the details either. It could be a debt of some sort (maybe he stole some donuts from her lol), or just an random dislike of him. Idk, I just have a feeling a lot of the UF cast have a mutual loathing of Fell XDD

Splynter gave me a prompt about UF Sans having to go speak to Muffet. I knew they disliked each other, but didn’t really know the details of their dynamic, so I  asked. Honestly I agree, I feel like most of the Underfell cast just hates Sans. Which makes sense, considering pretty much everyone seems to love Sans in Undertale. Kind of reversed.

I’m not... sure how accurately I wrote UF Muffet, but I tried. I hope you like it!

---

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit.

Sans stood outside of the door to Muffet’s, feeling countless beads of sweat running down his forehead. Sure, they were on the surface now. He was… pretty sure she wouldn’t hurt him.

But there weren’t really any guarantees.

And besides, even if she didn’t hurt him, she would find some way to make his life miserable. He just needed to get in and back out as fast as possible. Why couldn’t Boss have done this?! He’d asked, but apparently Boss had taken that as a “Sans needs to learn to not be such a fucking wimp all the time.” He wasn’t a wimp! This was Muffet they were talking about! And she hated him! Him specifically! She would listen to Boss, at least a little bit…. Ugh. There was no point in stalling. He just needed to go in already.

He forced himself to place his hand on the door handle and push it open, rushing inside before he could change his mind.

The bell attached to the door made a little jingling sound as the door shut behind him, and he froze immediately. Muffet was right at the counter, wiping it down. She hadn’t noticed him yet.

“I’m afraid we just closed,” she began, but immediately paused after turning her head and seeing who had just entered the store. Sans felt himself start to sweat again and looked away.

“Hi, how are ya?” He tried to say it casually, but didn’t make eye contact. He didn’t want her to think he was being disrespectful.

She gasped, an utterly false gasp of joy. “Oh, Sans! How are you? It’s been so long!”

An army’s worth of spiders scuttled down from the counter and surrounded him in a semicircle.

“Too long.”

She giggled. Sans could feel himself shaking a little. It’s fine. She won’t hurt me. She knows Boss would kill her if she hurt me, even if it is against the law. Reminding himself that his brother really did care made him feel a bit better.

“What’s the matter? Go ahead and tell me what you’re here for, hm?”

He managed. “I got some’a yer money I owe ya.”

“Oh! Really?”

He nodded vigorously, pulling out the cash from his pocket. At the sudden movement, the spiders instinctively moved forward, but relaxed when they saw that he meant no harm.

“Oh! How lovely!” She looked down at something he couldn’t see behind the counter.

God no.

“Why don’t you go grab it, pet?”

There were several snarling sounds and Muffet’s horrible pet crawled over the counter and over to Sans. It opened its drooling mouth and displayed its sharp teeth. Making sure to barely hold the cash between the tip of his thumb and index fingers, Sans held it out and let the pet grab it, flinching when it bit down. Thankfully, his bones were untouched.

“Aww! It likes you so much!”

Just make this end, dammit….

“Why don’t you give it a few pats, hmm?”

“H… huh?” Sans felt himself start to sweat again. He smiled nervously. “I mean… I would, but I, uh--”

“It will be sad if you don’t!” She flashed him a smug smile. “And I’ll be very upset if you make it sad.”

ffffffffff

“R… right,” he said, and reached out. It flinched, which made him flinch, but he eventually patted its head. It started to growl, but he knew better than to stop, so he just continued and prayed that it wouldn’t decide to bite his hand off.

“Aww. It enjoys being pet so much! You can stop now.”

He immediately withdrew his hand, shoving it in its pocket, and the pet scurried back over to Muffet and handed her the cash. She started to flip through it.

“Well! Finally, we…”

She trailed off, counting the money again, and Sans started to shake once more. Had the pet swallowed some of the cash? Please no.

Her eyes went from the money to him.

“This is only half of your owed amount,” she said, her voice riddled with distaste.

“Y… Yeah.”

All five of her eyes narrowed as she stood up completely straight. “I thought I told you not to come back until you had all of my money, Sans.”

OK, time to completely cast aside his pride.

“I know!” he said. “I’m sorry! I wanted tah wait till I had it all, but Boss--”

“Hmmm, or wait forever?”

“N-- no, I was savin’ it up, but we had ‘n agreement an’ I didn’t wanna--”

“You know,” she interrupted, although he hesitantly tried to continue blabbering. “I just realized my pet hasn’t had any food since lunch.”

The pet, which was still standing on the counter, turned and stared at him with its beady eyes. He tried not to look too afraid. Technically, he could annihilate Muffet and her pet if he wanted, but he didn’t want anybody to know about what he was capable of.

“That’s illegal,” he said. “Yer shop’ll get shut down.”

“Oh trust me,” she said, “I can make sure no one pins it on me.” A bit of a manic smile. “It’s not as if they’ll have a body as evidence.”

“My bro’ll know you did it, he’ll kill ya.”

“Mmm. Your brother is only so strong.”

That may as well have been an insult, considering the Underground’s culture. Sans didn’t think before speaking-- a bad habit he often suffered from. “Shuddup, my brother’s stronger than you’ll ever be!”

A moment of silence as they both realized what he’d just said. They just stared at each other. Sans started to panic. He didn’t want to shortcut right in front of somebody. She was going to let that stupid pet eat him and--

No, the door was right behind him. He could run! Cowardly, sure, and embarrassing, but he’d be alive. He turned-- only to find someone towering over him.

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?”

“Boss!” Sans practically yelled in relief. His brother raised a brow at him, but didn’t say anything.

“Oh!” said Muffet. She suddenly looked nervous. Only so strong, my ass. “Hello, Papyrus! Your lovely brother here was just paying me some of his debt. I’m quite appreciative!”

���AS YOU SHOULD BE,” said Papyrus stiffly. He must have seen Muffet’s sadistic smile through a window. Sans turned back around, giving Muffet a smug smile of his own when his brother wasn’t looking. How the tables have turned, huh?

She kept her fake smile plastered on her face, and her attention on Papyrus. “We just now closed, but you and I are always such good friends! Would you like something? It’s on the house! I made cupcakes just a few hours ago, they’re still--”

“NO,” said Papyrus, “WE ARE NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR SECOND-RATE FOOD.”

She looked like she’d just been slapped in the face, she was so horrified. Sans saw his chance and sauntered up to the counter, the spiders on the floor scuttling out of the way.

“I’ll take some,” he said, giving her a massive, shark-toothed grin.

One of her eyes twitched.

“I mean, ya did say I’m real lovely, right? ‘N we’re all such good friends.”

“... Of course,” she said, though the murderous rage radiating off of her was quite palpable. “Anything! What would you like?”

“Ya said ya made cupcakes?”

“Yes, I did in fact do that.” She pointed at six cupcakes immaculately decorated with clean frosting.

“Nice. I’ll take all six.”

“All six? I didn’t say you could have...” She stopped, looking over in Papyrus’s direction, and her grin became somehow more forced. “... I mean, of course, yes! Six cupcakes coming right up!”

It was almost like she had to force her limbs to grab the cupcakes, put them into a box, and then hand them to Sans without asking for any pay.

“Aw geez, Muffet, yer always such a great friend,” he said, beaming maliciously up at her.

“Always. You two take care now!”

“See ya,” he said, and headed for the door. Papyrus said nothing, just held the door open for him. Once he’d left, Papyrus followed.

“YOU KNOW I ONLY LET YOU TAKE SIX CUPCAKES BECAUSE I SAW THAT SHE WAS THREATENING YOU DESPITE HAVING THE MONEY.”

“Yeah, thanks fer saving my ass.”

“LANGUAGE! DON’T SPEAK LIKE A BARBARIAN, SANS!”

“Sure.” Sans opened up the box, grabbed a cupcake, and began stuffing his face. “These are so fuckin’ good,” he said through a full mouth.

Papyrus sighed with exasperation.

He then held out a hand. Immediately understanding, Sans handed him a cupcake.

“Ya didn’t mean, it right? When ya said her food was second-rate?”

“OF COURSE I DIDN’T!” said Papyrus as he carefully unwrapped the cupcake. “HER PASTRIES ARE AMAZING! BUT SHE WAS THREATENING YOU! SHE DESERVED TO FACE CONSEQUENCES, EVEN IF KILLING HER ISN’T AN OPTION!”

Sans was too absorbed in his sweets to reply.

“... I’LL ADMIT, WATCHING HER SQUIRM WAS QUITE SATISFYING.”

“Yeah,” said Sans, “it was hilarious.” His smile faltered. “You’ll, uh, probably need tah take the second half of th’ debt to ‘er when ya get it. She’ll… prob’ly kill me if I try tah give it to her.”

“... THAT’S PROBABLY TRUE, YES. I’LL DELIVER IT.”

Cool.

Sans shoved another cupcake into his mouth.

[gusu-emilu]

Cantatio: Chapter Eleven

Ship: Lan Zhan / Wei Ying (POV Lan Zhan)

Summary: Jin Zixuan is missing, and Lan Zhan is growing suspicious of Wei Ying.

Cloud Recesses Academy AU, Rated T, No Warnings Apply - read on AO3

The coast was clear if they wanted to sneak away.

Bichen quivered in his grip.

“Do not disrespect the elder. Uphold the value of justice. Do not shirk your duty,” he told himself.

But before Lan Wangji finished the list of rules he’d be breaking, he had already slipped out the doorway and unsheathed Bichen, with Wen Qing at his heels and Wei Ying’s name on his lips.

< Ch. 10 | Ch. 12 > | chapter list

After hearing the news of Jin Zixuan’s capture, there was not much else to do but wait for his return. In the meantime, Lan Wangji tried to report his recent misconduct to his uncle, but the clan leaders already hurried away to organize more search parties.

Song Lan and Nie Mingjue were the only two authority figures left. They corralled everyone into the Main Hall to safely await results from the search parties.

Nie Mingjue stood in the front corner of the room scowling at the noisy disciples. After a few minutes, Song Lan began restlessly pacing along the wall. Then he strode to the front of the room as if about to make an announcement.

Like the beginning of Beings & Creatures the previous day, Song Lan stood as if frozen, that same subdued sorrow hovering around him in a haze, until every pair of eyes was fixed upon him. Then he said, “We will continue our lesson on animating guardian statues. It seems especially relevant today.”

Although the disciples were still intimidated by Song Lan, they had warmed up to him after an exciting class yesterday. It also helped that they had witnessed him tear down Wen Chao, the most hated disciple in the class. Now, instead of gaping up at Song Lan, they were bold enough to whisper to each other about the announcement once he finished speaking.

“Although taking immediate action is important when addressing a crisis—in this case, that immediate action is finding Young Master Jin—it is also essential to address the root of a problem. Someone please inform the class what the root of today’s problem is.”

The hall was silent except for a few disciples shifting their robes or murmuring to each other.

Nie Huaisang flapped open his fan, the whoosh echoing through the hall.

“HUAISANG!” Nie Mingjue bellowed. “You open that fan, you answer the question!”

The fan snapped closed and disappeared into juniper sleeves. Nie Huaisang waved his hands in front of himself as if fending off the dozens of eyes now fixed on him. “Oh, no, no, I don’t know! Don’t call on me!”

“If no one answers the daozhang’s question, that filthy pet bird of yours is getting released into the woods this afternoon!”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes darted around the room in panic, searching for a brave disciple to save him as if he were the sparrow about to be abandoned in the wilderness.

In the back of the hall, a hand slowly rose into the air. Upon seeing it, Nie Huaisang sighed with relief.

It was Wen Ning, his eyes wide but eager. Wei Wuxian sat beside him and patted him proudly on the back.

Nie Mingjue snorted.

“Young Master Wen?” Song Lan called.

“W-W-Well, Young Master Wei and I were just discussing that no one seems to know exactly how the lion was animated. S-So…maybe that’s the problem?”

Song Lan nodded slowly. “That is correct.”

Wen Ning beamed, and Wei Wuxian swatted at Wen Ning’s arm excitedly. Wen Qing turned around and smiled at them.

“But only partially correct.”

Wen Ning’s face fell.

Song Lan cocked an eyebrow and relaxed his shoulders, the silvery-gold hilt of his sword shifting behind him. “Thank you, Young Master Wen, for starting us off.” He turned to Nie Huaisang. “Perhaps Young Master Nie can complete the answer. Clan Leader Nie seems to deem you quite capable of it.”

Nie Huaisang scratched the back of his head. “Oh, no, no, I’m sorry, my brother expects too much of me, really…” His eyes wandered to the ceiling, circling around vacantly.

“But if I had to guess…like, if I was forced at sword point—wow, that would be scary!—ummm, I would say that the problem isn’t how the lion was animated. It’s by who.” He threw his hands in the air. “But I’m not sure! I don’t know anything! I really don’t. Please don’t call on me again, daozhang…”

A faint smile crossed Song Lan’s face. “This is the correct answer.”

Having saved himself and his pet bird, Nie Huaisang snapped open his fan once again, flapping it merrily in celebration. Nie Mingjue scowled even more, but his shoulders relaxed a bit.

“Does anyone know why we do not need to ask how the statue was animated?” Song Lan asked.

“Because we just learned how to do it yesterday,” Jin Zixun shouted, clearly pleased with his useless response.

Song Lan blinked for a few moments. “Anyone else?”

Lan Wangji lifted his chin. “Animation by humans is impossible," he said.

Every disciple in the room turned to stare at him. However, the only pair of eyes he felt was Wei Wuxian’s.

A pair of eyes that Lan Wangji was growing more and more suspicious of.

Despite answering the question, Lan Wangji did not fully believe his own words.

“Very good, Second Young Master Lan. To animate a guardian statue so powerful, a quarter of the Cloud Recesses’ population would need to lay hands on it and connect with its spirit. One or two people could have gone unnoticed, but such a commotion could not have, not even in the dead of the night.

“Furthermore, the guardian lion did not protect the Cloud Recesses upon coming to life, as was its duty. Instead, it attacked a disciple. Mere mortals are incapable of convincing a guardian lion to violate its duty. Their method of communication is ancient, cryptic, and spiritually demanding. They are not easily persuaded to stray from the prayer intentions that created them.

“Therefore, the question is not how. We would waste our time to focus on this. The question becomes whom, or—more precisely—what. That is our true adversary, not the lion.”

The hall hummed with speculation. Wei Wuxian crossed his arms and nodded approvingly.

But Lan Wangji still did not agree.

He was very, very suspicious.

Who had animated the pixiu yesterday with no sign of drained spiritual energy and then refused to explain how? Who had been outside the mingshi last night? Who hated Jin Zixuan for what he did to Jiang Yanli?

Wei Wuxian had the means, the evidence, the agenda. Slightly out of order, yet still compelling.

But would Wei Ying really do something so malicious?

How could he seem so calm this morning if he really was responsible?

Strange things had happened in the Cloud Recesses before, without any known human interference, such as the appearance of the monster beetle in Wen Qing’s room. This could be another case. Perhaps the guardian lion statue had even been animated by the melody of the haunted guqin.

And yet.

Wei Wuxian was a trickster, and sometimes his pranks went too far. What had happened to Jiang Cheng just last night after drinking a poorly-made sleeping potion?

Wei Wuxian might not have had a mean streak, but he did have one for recklessness.

Plagued by these thoughts, Lan Wangji struggled to focus on the rest of Song Lan’s improvised lesson, only catching bits and pieces, itching to simply stand up in the middle of class and march over to Wei Wuxian.

The lesson was so lively that Lan Wangji wished he could have paid more attention. Song Lan preferred to let the disciples do their own thinking, and let them speculate what might’ve animated the lion. Lan Wangji caught mentions of hungry ghosts, magical beasts possessing golden cores, demons, Heavenly Immortals, even dragons. Then Song Lan guided the class through the process for detecting traces of a creature’s visit. The disciples grew more and more enthusiastic as they exchanged ideas, their energy filling the room. The disciples were forbidden to go outside to search for the guardian lion, but Song Lan promised to speak to the clan leaders about letting a team pilot the detective work.

When the lesson finished and the hall plunged back into a mill of voices, Lan Wangji walked toward Wei Wuxian immediately. But after only a few steps, another thought seized him. He swerved and headed toward Wen Qing, who was in the midst of praising Wen Ning for speaking up during the lesson.

“Lady Wen.”

“Second Young Master Lan?” She lifted her hands to the top of her head to adjust her golden hair piece with an air of regality. “You look tired. Join the club.”

Unsure of what to say to that, Lan Wangji simply nodded and asked, “Did you observe Wei Ying during Beings & Creatures yesterday?”

She sighed. “No. I was busy focusing on my own pixiu. I don’t have much of a golden core, and Young Master Su is a very lackluster partner. We couldn’t even animate it.” She finally let go of her hair piece. “A-Ning, did you watch him at all?”

“Yes. He brought the pixiu to life without his partner’s help.” Wen Ning grinned. “He’s really awesome, Jie!”

Wen Qing’s eyes widened. “He did it by himself? Are you sure?”

He nodded.

Wen Qing turned to Lan Wangji. “That’s the reason you were hollering at him during class?”

I did not ‘holler’ at him, Lan Wangji thought, but his reply was, “Half the reason.”

“…We’re thinking the same thing right now, aren’t we?”

“Mn.”

“Have you talked to him?”

Lan Wangji shook his head.

Wen Qing gave him a look of disappointment. “You should talk to him.”

Lan Wangji turned away, intending to search the room for Wei Wuxian, but he was unable to focus on identifying any particular person. “…Come with me.”

Wen Qing rolled her eyes. “What, are you scared of him?”

“No. But he is scared of you.”

Wen Qing grinned for the first time he’d seen. “Still relying on me to do your dirty work for you? I’d say it’s almost like we’re becoming friends, Lan Wangji.”

Lan Wangji froze at these words.

Friends...

Finally, he managed to nod a goodbye to Wen Ning, then swiveled around and strode away before a small smile could cross his face in front of the Wen siblings.

Behind him, Wen Ning said, “Jie, is Young Master Wei in danger?”

“No, A-Ning. He’s fine. Stay here.”

A few moments later, he heard Wen Qing’s footsteps behind him.

They paced around the perimeter of the hall hunting for Wei Wuxian. When they didn’t find him the first time, they passed through the center of the hall, circled around one more time, studying every person in the room. A sinking feeling of dread grew inside Lan Wangji with each step.

Wei Wuxian was gone.

* * *

With Wei Wuxian nowhere in sight, the next best option was to confront his brother.

Jiang Cheng stood glaring out the doorway of the Main Hall, clutching his sword. His shoulders were tense and his legs were slightly spread apart, as if he were about to join the starting line of a race.

“Young Master Jiang, have you seen Wei Wuxian?” Wen Qing asked.

Jiang Cheng scowled at her, as if offended that she had spoken to him. Then he noticed Lan Wangji, and turned to stare out the doorway again.

“Him? Tch. That dumbass ran outside a minute ago. I was going to tell Clan Leader Nie, but I’m thinking I should just go after him myself before he gets killed.” He paused. “So I can kill him,” he added.

So it was confirmed. Wei Wuxian had left. Was he seeking Jin Zixuan and the guardian lion that captured him? Was he running away from suspicion? Was he just bored in the Main Hall and looking for fun?

“Why?” Lan Wangji asked.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. He mimicked his brother’s overly-excited voice. “’I’m going to save Jin Zixuan so I can stand on his head while he apologizes to Shijie!’ The idiot. The clan leaders have been searching for ages. He’s deranged if he thinks he can find him.”

A wave of relief washed over Lan Wangji. Even if the guardian lion’s animation had really been Wei Wuxian’s doing, he could not have intended to seriously harm Jin Zixuan.

However, facing off with a guardian lion was not a feat that one could do alone. He needed help.

Jiang Cheng glanced around the hall, then tightened his grip on his sword. “Anyway. I’m hunting him down. If anyone asks, you didn’t see anything.” He sprinted outside, unsheathed Sandu from its dark purple scabbard, and jumped onto the blade, soaring into the clouds.

“Follow him,” Wen Qing said.

“I will tell the daozhang and Clan Leader Nie.”

“Didn’t you just hear Jiang Cheng? He doesn’t want anyone to know about this.”

“Authorities must be informed.”

Wen Qing crossed her arms. “Young Master Wei and Young Master Jiang just left. We can bring them back before anyone notices—that is, if you stop clenching your fists and get on your sword.”

Lan Wangji glanced down at his hands. Feeling a bit embarrassed, he relaxed them and placed them in their usual proper position—one holding Bichen at his side, one behind his back. Then scanned the interior of the Main Hall to check if anyone was watching them.

Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue were having a light-hearted discussion with Jin Guangyao. Song Lan was frozen in Lotus Position in a corner of the room, his eyes narrow and unfocused.

The coast was clear if they wanted to sneak away.

Bichen quivered in his grip.

Do not disrespect the elder. Uphold the value of justice. Do not shirk your duty.

But before Lan Wangji finished the list of rules he’d be breaking, he had already slipped out the doorway and unsheathed Bichen, with Wen Qing at his heels and Wei Ying’s name on his lips.

Holding his sword in front of him, he nodded toward Wen Qing.

She sucked in a breath and unsheathed her own blade. “Let’s go.”

Lan Wangji leapt onto Bichen and zipped into the sky beside Wen Qing. They soared through the clouds and mist with the speed of a dragon, cold air slicing at their cheeks.

They soon caught up to Jiang Cheng on Sandu.

“The hell are you doing?!” he snarled.

“Helping you get your shidi back!” Wen Qing shouted.

Jiang Cheng scoffed. “As if I want him back! Once we’re done, you can have him!”

As they flew over the green swath of forest, an uncomfortable thought entered Lan Wangji’s mind.

Since when had he stopped trying to discipline Wei Ying, and started trying to get him out of trouble instead? It had only taken a day at most. Was Lan Wangji really this soft?

A worse thought followed.

Was Lan Wangji fated to become another Jiang Cheng in Wei Ying’s life? A beloved brother, sure, but one who was always a sword’s length behind, chasing after an unbounded energy he could not hold?

That wouldn’t do.

Just as Wei Wuxian’s smirking face appeared in his mind’s eye, he spotted the real Wei Wuxian streaking through the air on his dark blade.

“WEI WUXIAN! GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW OR I’LL KNOCK YOU OFF YOUR UGLY SWORD!” Jiang Cheng shouted.

Wei Wuxian gleefully waved at them, nearly falling off the sword himself without any help from his brother. He shouted something back, but the words were drowned out by the howling wind. His red hair ribbon whipped behind him like the feathers of a phoenix as he sped away.

Wei Wuxian’s pace continued to increase. But Sandu and Bichen were closing the gap.

Suddenly, Wei Wuxian pointed at the forest to his left. He swerved and rocketed down in that direction, plummeting through the air like a torpedo.

What was he thinking? At this speed, he was going to crash!

Bichen and Sandu shot down after him. The swords buzzed in anticipation of the forest canopy that they were about to smash through. Wind battered Lan Wangji’s face.

At the last moment, Wei Wuxian’s sword leveled off just above the tree line. He swooped to the right and dove into a break in the treetops next to a mountain cliff.

He was headed straight for the ground, where a giant boulder met the grimy dirt.

Now he really was about to crash!

“Wei Ying!” Lan Wangji cried.

Whoosh!

Wei Wuxian charged at the foot of the boulder. But he didn’t smash into the ground like Lan Wangji had dreaded. Instead, he vanished.

Lan Wangji, Wen Qing, and Jiang Cheng dismounted their swords over a patch of grass beneath the boulder. Jiang Cheng marched toward the rock. Thin black strands of hair coiled over the top of his head where his sleek locks had been pulled back, now a mess from taking a vertical drop at such a high speed. Wen Qing and Lan Wangji looked just as windstruck.

Wen Qing rested a hand on Lan Wangji and gasped for breath as she clutched her stomach. “This is why…I prefer medicine…over the way of the sword.”

Lan Wangji gingerly removed her hand from his shoulder.

The moss-covered boulder towered over them, reaching the height of a pagoda. They approached the crack that Wei Wuxian had vanished into. As they angled closer, the crack expanded into a dark tunnel that burrowed beneath the boulder.

It was the opening to an underground cave.

“The hell is he thinking!” Jiang Cheng stuck an arm out toward the tunnel. He looked like he wanted to strangle the entire boulder above it. “Don’t tell me he actually found the lion and followed it into this cave! He hadn’t even been in the air for five minutes!”

Lan Wangji and Wen Qing exchanged hesitant glances.

If this was true, and Wei Wuxian had entered the cave after the guardian lion, then he would need all the help he could get.

“Well? Who’s going in first?” Jiang Cheng said.

After a few moments, Lan Wangji stepped inside.

The mouth of the tunnel was coated with mud, descending to murky black depths that glared up at him hungrily.

He slipped.

Slammed on his back.

Clenched his eyes shut and slid down the tunnel, accelerating faster and faster as the slope tilted steeper and steeper, until the darkness swallowed him whole.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by liking, reblogging, and visiting me on AO3! New chapters posted every Monday on AO3 and Tuesday on Tumblr.

Ch. 12 > | chapter list

[artisticflutter]

AU August - Day Twenty-Two: Sci-Fi

Yoohoo! This one took a while because... it just did. I’ll have notes one things that help visualize what everything looks like dooon’t worry~

Series: Final Fantasy IX Rating: T Genre: Romance, Sci-Fi Pairing(s): Zidane x Garnet (Zidagger) Summary: Garnet’s anxious. She knew she was meant to be wedded to the ruler of Terra, but this would be her first time properly meeting them. Warning: A prequel to a previous crossover fill! (aka the Miraculous Ladybug one)

Garnet held her hands daintily folded one over the other before her, though her fingers hidden beneath twitched slightly. It hadn’t been that long since she’d been crowned, but by the law of the crystals, the time had come.

Gaia and Terra - two planets that orbited the same sun and shared two moons between them. It hadn’t always been like this - Terra with many of its advancements years ahead of Gaia had managed to move through space. It wasn’t always cordial between them either as Terra had been hostile, their superior technology however finding itself matched by Gaia’s magic. But when a Gaian and a Terran came together, the fighting had stopped. The crystals which all life came from, but Terra’s had been dying. It was by choice the two saved the crystal and brought peace between the worlds; and by the crystals it continued, the two planets as a collective coming to be known as Gaea.

Chosen by Gaia’s Crystal at birth, Garnet would wed the King of Terra and together, they would continue overseeing both planets. Even though they ultimately would, she still wondered what her betrothed would be like. Terra’s crystal wouldn’t choose someone terrible, but both of them would have to see past mortal problems and see the natural and extraterrestrial. Even if they were ‘good’, she was worried - what if the King was a cold and affectionless individual? They still had to care about the Kingdoms on each planet and their citizens to a fair degree; and they should be capable of caring for each other.

She remembered going to Terra once and it was quite the opposite of Gaia. It had felt cold, and it was difficult to tell what was nature from the machine; however, she had felt life pulsing from the planet. And thinking back to that visit, she did manage to recall they never left the main Kingdom of Bran Bal. There could’ve been more to Terra such as natural elements that she just hadn’t seen. Perhaps after she was wedded, she could see more of it?

A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts and it opened soon after.

“Your Majesty, Terra’s ship approaches,” her General, Beatrix, informed with a bow. Turning away from her window, Garnet nodded.

“Thank you, General...” Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “... I’m ready.”

Stepping outside her door, Captain Steiner was waiting to escort her together with the General. He snapped a salute to Garnet and she nodded her head back in acknowledgement. These two had been her knights and personal advisors since her childhood - she was going to miss them. Whoever became her new knights after the union, she hoped to get along with them.

The grand crystal of Alexandria shimmered as always in the sunlight, its radiant brilliance also a reflection of the planet’s health below. Today, there was a difference - not that anyone could see it, but the way the lights danced from its surface in cool waves, it was greeting the sleek blue ship descending from the sky in its own way. It was easing its entry into their atmosphere and lower, stilling the lake as it came to hum above the water.

Garnet mentally noted that the design of the Terran ship was very much their planet. Still, perhaps Regent Cid just liked to over design his ships with unnecessary bits. She resisted a giggle and trained her expression as the teleport circle appeared before her, Beatrix, and Steiner.

The first to appear was a woman around her height with fair skin just a touch darker than Garnet’s own and wearing what was a deceptively simple attire with rosy geometric shapes upon white material. Her golden blonde hair just barely reached her shoulders and her green eyes gazed around the stone platform briefly before catching Garnet’s eye. She bowed, “Your Majesty, Queen Garnet, I am Mikoto, the King’s Advisor. On his behalf, I greet you first.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mikoto,” Garnet replied, giving the woman a smile. “I welcome you.”

With a deep bow, Mikoto stepped off the teleport circle. And with her aside, it glowed again and the next figure emerged. They were tall - much taller than Garnet herself, and even standing above Steiner. Long silver hair, cool blue eyes, their complexion was paler than hers and Mikoto’s, and his attire was more. It was closer to the attire of a nobleman of Gaia than what she would expect of Terra, but she could also see the sharp, geometric elements in the accents.

“Your Majesty,” they - he - said with a deep bow. He had a look when he stood, but she couldn’t decide if it was a smile or a smirk, but it wasn’t malicious. “I am Kuja, the King’s Strategist. On his behalf, I greet you second.”

“Pleased to meet you as well, Kuja,” Garnet answered, smiling at him too. “I welcome you.”

Now with a slight nod, he moved aside and Garnet felt her heart speed when the circle glowed again. Was the King coming now? Were the Advisor and Strategist their guard then? She almost wanted to check her dress over to make sure nothing was out of place, but it was too late, another body was appearing.

And she felt her face turn red.

Standing taller than Mikoto, but shorter than Kuja, he had dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and his skin suggested he might be far more familiar with sunlight. And there was plenty of skin to see, more than Garnet had purposely seen exposed on anyone. The off-shoulder cloak exposed plenty of chest and the skirt he wore - while long on his legs - was quite low at his hip. Was that a tail, too? She couldn’t even focus on the blue designs or trim; she was struggling to focus on his face. And out of the corner of her eye, Kuja was smirking.

Oh, strategist indeed.

“If I may, Your Majesty,” Mikoto’s voice cut in, almost making Garnet jump. “Introducing His Majesty, King Zidane of Bran Bal and the Chosen of Terra’s Crystal.”

“Ah… Um, yes. Greetings, King Zidane…” She was doing her best to maintain her composure, but he smiled. Oh dear, he was the very opposite of that cold personality she was concerned previously about. “Welcome to the Kingdom of Alexandria and Gaia. Shall we attend to matters in the conference room?”

“Hold on a moment.”

Garnet blinked and watched, slightly flushed still, as Zidane reached under his cloak. In a moment, he pulled out… a flower, covered by a glass dome and set on a pedestal. Wait, that flower… she’d seen it before.

“I don’t know if you remember, but even if you don’t, I believe I should present my wife-to-be with a gift.”

“Oh…” Garnet gazed upon the flower longer, stepping closer. “... It… looks like the buildings around Bran Bal. Though, the blossom curls up… Wasn’t it glowing before?”

“They shine in the dark, but look purple under Terra’s moon,” Zidane explained, beaming as she accepted the pot. “But that’s probably why you don’t--”

“... No, no, I do recall a boy handed me one. I was awfully rude that day, but a meeting had gone past my bedtime. I was half-asleep… and didn’t you run away once you did?”

“What? Me? Run away??” Zidane gasped, but then, he scratched his cheek. “I… may have done that. I was a little nervous when I was a kid. Most of that is my Strategist’s fault.”

There was a look shot Kuja’s way and the taller man looked far too pleased with himself. Garnet was bewildered by how casual the two seemed to be, but again, she was trying not to laugh. It wouldn’t be appropriate even if their antics were amusing. Zidane rolled his eyes and shook his head before smiling her way. “Right, I guess we should proceed with preparations…?”

“Mmm, yes. Come, this way.”

Handing over Zidane’s gift to Steiner, she accepted the King’s hand when he held it out to her. Meeting his eyes, and then walking alongside him, this marriage ordained by the Crystals may not be as bad as she feared.

---

Notes: Terra’s very much like itself in-game, but most plants and vegetation is outside of the cities save for specially domed zones that can raise/protect more delicate flora/fauna.

Meanwhile, imagine Gaia more like Treasure Planet movie in technological advancements enhanced further by magic. So still Victorian fantastical future sci-fi.

The flower is based off Jade Vines (look it up~).

[avanalae]

Hayden’s Cat

Here we go, all! Welcome to my fanfic for the glorious webcomic that is Hayden’s Notes! Please see the comic here on Tapas and check out the lovely creator, Yufei, here on Tumblr.

I warn you now that this is pretty much 5k words of pure self-indulgance. I wanted to write sass-baby Hayden with his reluctant softness taking care of something I made up so I could have a way of smothering and mothering the brat. So this is focused on Hayden and her, though Cat and Shy play a part, too, to varying extents.

So yeah, if that makes you interested at all, please enjoy! I’m not expecting many notes on this, but I didn’t write this for attention. I wrote it for myself and Yufei.

Fandom: Hayden’s Notes Characters: Hayden Carter, Cat, Shy, Original Female Creature Warnings: Mention of poaching and harm to creatures Rating: G Summary: Hayden is good at getting himself into messes and somehow coming out mostly alright in the end, sometimes even with a bonus! Things like a new artifact to examine, a riddle to solve, or a mystery to puzzle out. Or, sometimes, a new friend.

___

It had been entirely unintentional.

Completely and utterly coincidental.

Honestly.

…

Alright, so maybe he has a problem sticking his nose into things but that’s not a bad quality. People are curious by nature, after all. But maybe in his case it leads to more problems than anything else.

But no matter how hard he tries, no matter his attempts to not get involved, what happens?

He gets involved.

_

Hayden had been on the hunt for a rare artifact making the rounds through the black market in town. Something like a monkey’s paw, according to the rumors, but rather more catastrophic. It sounded terribly interesting when he first heard of it, and he isn’t in the habit on denying himself. Day three into his investigation leads him to a warehouse. Obvious and so typical Hayden nearly feels his interest drop into nonexistence, but he plows on.

As it turns out, though, he’s going to have to reconsider the source this tip came from. Not only is the artifact not here, but he almost stumbles right into the middle of an illegal creature circus. Scrambling out of sight and cursing himself for not noticing the silencing wards sooner, he takes a moment to assess the situation.

He should leave.

In fact, he takes two whole steps back the way he came, fully intending to do just that.

But then there’s a crack of a whip and a pained trill from the stage. He looks back and seals his fate. This is going to be annoying.

After a heavy sigh and running his hands through his hair several times, he straightens and takes stock of himself. Not much in the way of supplies, unfortunately, just the standard things he takes when he leaves his house. Which, granted, is much more than the average person would have on hand, but is not nearly enough to easily take on this whole mess. So, he uses one of his emergency disillusion spells with a sigh at the cost of having to replace it.

He keeps them on hand because so many places, especially the not so legal ones, use detection spells for things like invisibility. However, because they are so often in use (usually in said illegal places), they often don’t check for most illusions.

He has only half an hour before it wears off, so he gets moving.

_

Hayden is very frustrated.

He swats at the shisa snapping at him from its cage once again, only making the lion-dog growl harder. While not actually part lion, they usually reflect similar mannerisms of them. However, they are dogs and are beasts meant to ward off evil spirits. A double whammy. At least the hellhound is only staring intently at him, pacing restlessly in its own cage. He’ll set their cages to release after he’s long gone.

The birds had been easy enough to free, and he sacrificed another item to send an illusion out to the stage for the daltokki he had already released. There aren’t many more creatures after that, and most of them don’t even acknowledge Hayden as they flee. Whatever, he’s not used to being thanked, anyway.

Finally, he gets to the last cage (aside from the dogs, of course). It’s a small one on top of a crate. Inside is a young cat, likely not quite a full adult yet. Its curled up, staring at him, and Hayden takes a closer look. Its fur is dark brown, almost black, with bright eyes that are fully blue. There’s a slight darker hue that follows his movements, hinting at a separate pupil or the like.

Its unhealthily skinny and shaggy, with- oh. He steps closer, not responding to the tensing and hiss he receives. He can see ragged stumps on its back.

A katzengeist, he thinks as he runs through what he knows. A very reclusive and relatively solitary species. Not necessarily malicious but most definitely mischievous, typically heavily distrustful of humans. Generally small shapeshifting spirits with coveted illusionary capabilities, relatively limited power over the elements, and other minor abilities. They are born as cats with wings, though they can take many shapes as they grow in age and ability, they often have a preferred form aside from that one.

As it is, this one should be able to use its abilities to heal itself, to mend its wings and escape. However, Hayden is quite sure it is currently unable to. He glances between the undernourished form, weak trembling, and the iron cage. Signs that it wouldn’t be able to escape, let alone survive on its own for now.

He sighs and mentally rolls his eyes at himself. He is going much too soft. None of the others had been in good shape either, but at least they could run away. “Hey, if I release you, will you allow me to take you home and treat you?”

The swishing tail stills, and the threatening rumble stops. It stares at him incredulously.

“Come on, we don’t have much time. I can show you my home and you can stay there until you recover.” Its tail flicks once but otherwise it remains still. “You won’t be alone, of course. Other creatures stay with me or tend to come and go.” There’s faint noise coming from the stage now, clapping, possibly.

Hayden gives it a moment, trying to be patient. It pays off when the katzengeist huffs and relaxes. He nods and opens the cage quickly, helping it out of the confined space. With the catlike creature in his arms, he takes one last once-over of the room and checks the cages with the growling shisa and the tense hellhound.

Then he’s gone, hurrying away so the dogs can escape in time. He may hate the beasts, but he hates abusive humans more.

_

The katzengeist is mostly limp in his hold, but the weight is hardly an issue with its unhealthy size. He gets some struggle when he maneuvers it to check for immediate injuries and barely dodges another scratch to the face when he checks for gender. “Sorry, sorry, just wanted to check. I didn’t think you’d be up for answering me right now, don’t give me that look.” He gets an annoyed huff in response. “Besides, I didn’t want to keep calling you ‘it’ in my head when there was an easy way to check. I imagine I won’t be getting your name anytime soon, so I guess I’ll call you ‘Little Lady’ for now, if that’s fine.”

He’s almost to the library when he finally gets a response. So long, in fact, that he doesn’t realize what it was a response to, at first. But she goes limp in his hold and whacks his arm with her tail. A reluctant agreement, but agreement, nonetheless. She stays compliant as he adjusts her to dig his key out of his pocket and open the door to his place.  

“Welcome to my humble abode!” Hayden says dramatically, spreading the arm that isn’t holding Little Lady with some flair as they enter. Tossing the keys aside he strides over to the stairs. “I’m sure you’ll like it here, for however long you end up staying. You’ll meet everyone in time, it’d take forever to try and introduce you, considering how often they all like to hide away or come and go.” When he reaches the bottom, it’s unusually quiet. Not very surprising, it often is when someone else comes in with him, let alone someone or something unknown.

“Everyone, this is Little Lady. We’re going to help her heal for a bit until she feels ready to go, alright?” Lady’s tail twitches at the shift in the aura of the room. It’s not benign, but it’s welcoming enough to assure Hayden that no one or nothing is going to jump out right now. “See, it’ll be okay. I’m sure you’ll all get along fine.”

Hayden carries Little Lady over to the small table he set aside for treating injuries. A little health station of sorts. Not that he usually needs it, but it’s handy to have in situations like this. The young katzengeist is docile as he treats her, cleaning her up the best he can before covering the wounds. He’ll assume for now that until she’s stronger things will be slower to heal.

“Alright,” he comes back to check on her, “I’ve set up a little corner for you that you can adjust to your liking.” He holds out his hands and she sighs before leaning into him so it’s easier to pick him up. He holds her gently and carries her over to the basket where he’d added several soft blankets, towels, and other scraps he could find. The basket is a large thing from an old job, so he thinks it’ll work fine if she decides to grow some more while she’s here. “I added what I could find on short notice. You can poke around later to see if there’s anything you’d like to add. I just ask that you leave anything that looks like it’s being used or is in the closet alone.”

She pokes around at the cloth as she settles in, nudging things around as she adjusts her new temporary nest. “I’m sure you’ll leave the artifacts and such alone. I’m not sure why anyone would want things like that in their beds, regardless of having seen the things I have.” He grimaces at the thought but is quickly distracted as she finishes curling up. She’s mostly buried under the blankets, but she seems quite comfortable. “Alright, I’ll leave you to get some rest. I’ll have some food for you in the morning, sorry that I don’t really have anything right now. There’s water for you here,” He gestures to a small bowl near the basket and stands to stretch.

He walks away to get ready to meet with his own bed at last. Once he’s tucked under the covers, he finds himself listening for the soft breathing of his new tenant. It’s soft, but not nearly as labored as it was, with the occasional sigh along with the rustle of the blankets when she shifts.

His fingers find a familiar scar to rest on.

“Humans truly are… the cruelest of species, aren’t they?”

_

The next week isn’t too unusual, even with his new visitor. Little Lady is rather quiet and hardly leaves her little nest except to eat, use the facilities (she’d nearly bit him when he suggested a litterbox so he just leaves the bathroom available for her), and sit near him on occasion when he’s working on a project.

Shy had come out the third day of her stay and they had hit it off surprisingly well. His familiar is the only one she’ll let close, though that’s not a surprise, considering how cute the shadow speck can be. She also seems to at least tolerate the calbri – an ancient spirit that takes the form of a hummingbird – that he had stolen from poachers to study before returning it home. It’ll flutter around her and occasionally she’ll let it rest on her head.

Like he thought, she was getting stronger quickly. She moved much better, often hopping up on the table to see what he’s working on, and her wings had almost fully reformed. She appeared to have wings similar to a blue morpho butterfly, and he was hoping that she’d let him take a look before she left. He’d not seen one with insect wings before, though really, he’d only seen two and that was on accident and didn’t end well for him, so he probably shouldn’t count it.

_

Two weeks in, he brings home a pod.

When Cat first blooms, Little Lady starts sitting by its pot more often. Cat grows more quickly than a regular plant, of course, but she hardly seems to leave its side before it is 3 feet tall and much more active. Hayden is already growing fond of the pretentious little plant. It has plenty of personality, that’s for sure, and seems to be quite happy with him.

Speaking of, however… He glances at Lady. She’s almost completely healed at this point. Her wings are fully formed again, large and glimmering. She has put on weight, looking much healthier and is moving without any issue. But something seems to be holding her back, something that is weighing on her. Perhaps she’s thinking about asking to stay.

Hayden rubs the back of his neck.

He guesses he wouldn’t mind. She’s not usually any trouble, at least not to him. She is quite the trickster and gives as good as she gets when the others prank or pester her, but she doesn’t usually go out of her way to do so unless she’s quite bored or has a reason. She seems to enjoy spending time with him quietly, as well, considering how often she sits with him as he works. She has also started greeting him at the door, of all things. Sure, it’s from a few feet away, but when he gets back, she’s there waiting. She’ll watch as he eventually makes his way downstairs before moving and leaping down to continue with whatever she’d presumably been doing before he’d returned.

It’s nice, in a way. The waiting and quiet company.

And Hayden was aware enough of his own selfishness that he understands he doesn’t want to give that up.

_

Three weeks later and Cat has continued to grow. Shy and Little Lady continue to grow closer, and really start involving Cat with things. It’s hilarious to watch, because Cat has a way of bringing Lady’s childish side out; he’ll find her leaping from vine to vine on Cat as Shy chases her or the other way around. Things like that. He smiles when he sees it, it’s good for such a young creature to start acting more her age.

To show that the fight hasn’t left her.

_

A month in, he notices Little Lady stares at him more frequently when she thinks he isn’t looking.

One night he spots her on the way to get a drink. She sits upstairs, looking at the door. Just sitting, staring at the door, almost completely still aside from the occasional twitch of her tail.

The next morning, he catches her looking at him again but this time she doesn’t look away. She stares at him intently, her tail flicking twice.

He quirks a smile and tilts his head at her but doesn’t say anything.

Guess there’s no getting rid of her now.

_

Several days after she had decided to stay, Hayden is working on a project. He’s focused intently on the sculpture in from of him, trying to decrypt the runes carved into the sides. His head is propped up against a fist while the other hand taps the pen he holds against the table. He’s aware of Little Lady being on the table with him, she’d been there for a while and was watching Cat when he last looked.

He blinks at a tap against his arm. He turns his head, not bothering to move otherwise, yet. He chokes a bit when he comes face-to-face with Little Lady. She is sitting right next to the arm he’s propped his head on, her tail tapping at him as it sways. He stills, watching her, and she… she noses at his hand.

Hardly daring to move much, he slowly lifts his head and turns his hand just a bit-

And she leans in, her head fitting easily into the curve of his fingers. He scratches absent-mindedly, eyes sharp as she closes hers, letting him pet her for several minutes. He indulges her, relaxing a bit more himself, and manages a laugh when she butts her head against his hand to stop him. She turns and hops off the table, then, and pads off to do who-knows-what.

Hayden rubs his thumb and forefingers together, smiling. He can’t help but be glad at this moment, the first where she approached him instead of allowing contact for any number of reasons. But he knows what this means.

He’s the only one around here with human hands, after all, and nobody gives better scritches.

_

The sock in his hands is just a regular sock, he thinks.

Hayden stretches the material again, trying to identify what happened. He’s sure he had discarded this sock and its twin when the holes had become too bothersome. They were one of his favorite pairs, so he’d been reluctant to part with them, but sentimentality doesn’t help with blisters. Yet here they are, in much better condition.

He squints harder at it and takes off the one he’d just put on before noticing this to look at as well. They’ve been mended, it looks like, with some skill. They aren’t perfectly fixed, having been used far too long and far too much, but they could definitely withstand some more wear. He can’t help but try and puzzle it out, running his fingers along the fabric to find that they’ve been darned with thread, the color an almost exact match.

What or who would be mending his clothes? And how? And, actually, the better question would be why?

He decides to keep an eye out for now.

_

Little things go missing, sometimes, though certain things reappear after a while. His clothes, specifically.

On one memorable occasion, he’d thought he’d misplaced a shirt he’d unfortunately be stabbed through on a job. But one morning as he was getting dressed, he found it hanging in his closet, as pristine as it could have been. Not a speck of blood or sign of the rip. Well, not quite, as he can feel the slight bump of the stitching when he looks for it, but close enough. Suddenly mad with curiosity, he throws himself into his closet. He doesn’t have much in the way of clothes, so it doesn’t take too long in comparison to some other things he’s done spur-of-the-moment.

Hayden finds that 3 of his shirts have been fixed aside from that one, along with half of his pants and most of his socks.

“What is…?” He narrows his eyes and thinks. There are only so many creatures in his apartment right now aside from him, and not all of them would be able to do things like this. And he’s not sure on how many of those would be willing to or want to do such a thing.

He thinks further, looking back on the last week as well as he can. He’d been out on RSS business for a few days and had come back quite annoyed, but with a new, exciting project successfully snatched out from right under Wolfe’s nose. He’d been rather absorbed in that, but now that he thinks about it…

He glances over to the table by his bed. The glass he’d left there last night is gone. Half-dressed, he jogs over to the sink, and spots it quickly – washed and placed on the shelf with the few other dishes he has. He makes his way around the rooms, finding little, innocuous things. The blanket draped over his favorite chair has been neatened, folded, and laid more purposefully.  The papers he’d scattered on the table in his search for a specific one are in neater piles, similarly to where they had been before his impatient search.

The chair at the worktable scrapes against the floor when Hayden falls into it. He hides his face in his hands, rubbing in sudden frustration. How, exactly, had he not noticed this? “Ugh,” he pulls on his own cheek in punishment, “I can’t believe this. Is this some sort of prank?” He sighs and slumps further. Cat prods him with a vine and he doesn’t bother to react to it, too caught up in thoughts of an invader or some sort of-

“Urk-“ he chokes as he’s yanked back, the chair almost tipping too far before it lets go and he manages to fumble for balance. “Cat!” He turns and glares, but Cat only whacks him on his forehead. He covers the stinging with one hand, “What in the world is going on with you?”

Suddenly Shy hops up from the table to his shoulder, making questioning noises.

“What, I,” Hayden blinks, “I, uh, I’m fine.” Cat raises another vine and he jumps back, almost sending the chair over again, “I am! I’m just, well.” He weakly waves a hand at the room at large. “Have you guys noticed the whole…” he waves some more, searching for the words, “cleaning, uh, fixing… thing?”

He trails off and waits for any response, but Shy blinks off his shoulder and Cat very obviously turns her attention to other things.

Huh.

Well, the fact that they blatantly know what’s going on is sort of encouraging. In its own way.

Kind of.

_

In the end, it takes an embarrassing week of trying to figure it out, one job from the RSS turned down (much to uninteresting), subtle and not-so-subtle interrogation of his “flat mates,” and rather more spells than he thought he’d have to use, he finally gets it.

In the end, all it took was just paying more attention. Which is so much harder than people think or say it is, Hayden swears.

He started paying more attention to the things that appear around him. A fruit or other easy to prepare and eat snacks happen to appear on the table when he gets caught up in something and misses meals. Sometimes things he’s quite sure he didn’t get on the last grocery run will appear, which is even more interesting. Things he’s searching for, like his chisel or a dropped screw, will be easier to find or will show up in places he thought he’d already looked. However, it’s usually just small things, but that might also be because it’s typically harder to lose something large.

All these little things start adding up and eventually Lady Luck pokes him at just the right moment.

_

It’s the middle of the night when it happens, and since Hayden’s been a bit more high-strung recently due to the mystery, he wakes when he hears a subtle noise. He blinks sleepily, but registers another noise before he moves, so he plays dead while trying to look around as best he can. There’s a bit of a shimmer in the corner and he blinks away the last little bit of sleep.

There’s a little ball of faelight floating just above a small figure, sitting on the cabinet in the corner. It’s rather humanoid, and Hayden wishes he had his glasses on, but he does his best. It looks a bit childlike, but another minute makes him tentatively decide on female, at least in mannerisms. Dark brown hair curls around her shoulders and luminescent blue eyes focus on what in front of her. She’s wearing a simple cover, possibly some plain tunic that is sleeveless and covers her down to the knee. He looks for the ears but can’t see them from this distance or through her hair.

He suddenly notices she’s holding a sewing needle, one that is probably as big as her arm, and Hayden realizes it’s a standard needle. He didn’t realize he had any outside of the ones used for stitching wounds. Unless that’s what it was, but he can clearly see fabric around her once he looks. She fumbles with the large (comparatively) implement for a moment before focusing and running the needle through the cloth.

It’s certainly an odd thing to see and he doesn’t realize what exactly he’s watching until she shifts, and little wings furl out to help her lift off the table as she pulls the stitch tighter.

He chokes and she startles, dropping the needle and darting into the shadow of the cabinet’s shelves.

Bolting upright, Hayden does his best not to fall off the bed, “W-Wait!” He stands, but falters in his first step forward. Swallowing, he stops, scratching at his cheek. There’s no noise or movement, all but the two of them fast asleep, though Cat seems to be stirring at his quiet outburst. He looks over, a bit closer and at a better angle now that he’s standing and sees the familiar bundle of his coat.

“That’s…” he sighs, and his hand rises to run through his hair. “Sorry for startling you like that, Little Lady.”

She doesn’t respond, but there’s a slight shift in the shadow.

After a minute of the quiet, he steps back and sits on the edge of his bed. “You don’t have to come out, but can I talk?” No response. “You’re sneakier than I gave you credit for, that’s for sure. I didn’t notice until about two weeks ago that something was up. Who knows how long you’d been doing it! It’s quite impressive.

“It really threw me for a loop, you know. I never bother with such things, myself, and haven’t really had anyone to do those kinds of things for me… well, let’s just say a long time since I’d even thought about it.” He looks over to Cat, who is definitely awake, and has little tendrils creeping towards the both of them. He doesn’t know for what, though, so he keeps on guard. “And I’m sure you’ve been going out to get things, like the fruit and nuts I’m positive I’ve never gotten before. And the mending…” He looks back over to the jacket, and then back at the shadow she’s hiding in. “Thanks, Little Lady.”

The shadow brightens, just a bit, with a soft blue glow before dimming quickly.

Hayden sighs, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have surprised you like this. I certainly didn’t intend too. I’ll leave you be.” One of Cat’s vines tickles his ankle and he lifts his foot away, bringing his legs up onto the bed. “I bet you knew about this, didn’t you, Cat?” It’s a rhetorical question, but Cat’s rumble is evidence enough.

He turns and pulls the covers back up, trying to let go of the surprise and other, lingering emotions so he can get back to sleep. He can see a faint light through his closed eyes at some point, but he lets himself just fall into sleep that had quickly started tugging at him.

_

The next day, his coat is hanging on the rack and Lady is nowhere to be found in any form.

_

Hayden starts growing concerned when a week passes and he still hasn’t seen her. The little things keep happening, especially the snacks when he gets distracted, but they aren’t as frequent. He’s a bit of a talker anyway, so he’ll occasionally mention something like he would if she were there or will say thanks for the snacks when they appear. Unfortunately, Wolfe decides to drag him out one day for a case and it takes a few days before he can escape back home. He doesn’t have any new toys, but he does have some interesting information to mull over for a while.

He lets out a gusty sigh when he closes the door behind himself, tossing his keys aside and his coat in the direction of the rack. He stumbles down the stairs, half tired and half annoyed at Wolfe, straight to the kitchen area for a drink. “I’m home,” he manages after a long draft of water, patting Cat’s head when it curls around him.

Wandering over to his bed, he sits on the edge, contemplating going to sleep for the night this early when he catches something. He blinks and looks over to the bed-side table and sees Little Lady. She’s sitting on the edge of it, looking up at him with those big, blue eyes. The cup he’d set down on the table is full of water once more and there’s a damp cloth next to it.

She watches him closely as he reaches out and takes the cloth, surprisingly warm and damp, though not wet enough to drip. He cleans his face of the dust and grime, feeling better for it. He keeps it in his hands as they drop to his lap and he looks at her, taking in more of the details. Her thick hair is has bit of a curved cut, falling to the just to the base of her neck in the back and to her clavicle in the front. It curls slightly at the ends, the newer, shorter hairs by her face curl cutely against her cheeks. The tunic is as plain as he thought it was and is a bit ragged. He doesn’t want to ask where it came from, having a bit of an idea already.

“Hey, Little Lady, good to see you.” She looks down and kicks her bare feet a little. Her wings are lax, drooping against the table and he hopes that means she’s not about to dart away. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She looks up at him again, still kicking her feet. He stares when she opens her mouth.

“Lia.”

Her voice is a bit bell-like, though still a soft tone. He wonders if that was always her name, but it doesn’t matter, does it?

“Nice to meet you properly, then, Little Lia.”

He can’t help but chuckle when she huffs and looks down again, a bit of a blush on her cheeks despite her frown. Cat shoves him a bit, but it’s not aggressive, so he lets himself laugh a bit more.

Little Lady.

Lia.

[distant-rose]

Villains That Live in My Head (1/4)

Notes: I made a promise back in June to @effulgentcolors a story about dealing with intimacy and PTSD and I’m like two months late. Lyubi, I’m truthfully sorry for how late this is but admittedly, I’ve been struggling with this subject material because it’s not just PTSD, it’s violent PTSD episodes so we’re straddling a very thin line which could constitute as domestic violence, which naturally makes me  uneasy. However, I think it’s important to stress that the violence depicted in this story is not due to any sort of maliciousness but due to a violent PTSD episode and this story is about exploring how to deal with trauma and intimacy issues and get past such issues as a couple. This is some hard, heavy and upsetting stuff, but I’m trying to be as sensitive and tentative to the material as I can. I can’t stress enough that this isn’t going to be for everyone and to approach with caution because this is a story about violent PTSD and accidentally hurting your partner, and please read at your own risk. A special thank you to @initiala and @shireness-says for helping me struggle bus through this story. Summary: The wounds made when we're young tend to linger. It’s something Killian and Emma learn a little too well when a well meaning surprise goes terribly wrong.  Word Count: 3,300+ Rating: M

--

The truth is that Emma Swan has never had a real boyfriend, so to speak.

Sure, she was with Neal during her teenage years, but their relationship wasn’t necessarily conventional. Born out of loneliness and camaraderie, theirs was based mainly on survival, and survival doesn’t mean dinner dates in fancy restaurants or going to the movies. The most romantic thing he ever did for her was steal a family pack of pop tarts and some boxed wine when she turned sixteen and she thought it was the sweetest thing to ever happen. That had been the pinnacle of romance for her until “pick a partner who knows what he’s doing” and “ you traded your ship for me?”

She’s so out of her depth when it comes to being in a real relationship, but so far, it seems to be going great. Killian is attentive and generous with affection, which comes in a variety of forms from bringing her coffee every morning to playing with her hair. He listens to her when she de-stresses after work, plying her with alcohol and... not sympathy, necessarily, but empathy and an understanding that everyone else seems to lack. Everyone views her as the Savior, including her parents, but it’s nice to have someone who just sees her as Emma. 

And then there’s the sex. Which is another story altogether. 

It’s good, don’t get her wrong. He’s surprisingly sweet and very generous, with soft eyes and even softer touches. However, it’s also intimidating, because while Emma is the one-night-stand wonder, she wouldn’t call herself particularly knowledgable when it comes to sex. It’s mainly been insert Tab A into Slot B, repeat until satisfaction (and more often than not, no satisfaction - but that’s another story altogether). Such relationships didn’t necessarily lead to a lot of exploration or discovery. Quite simply, you don’t ask a complete stranger to help you discover your kinks unless you’re a serial killer or preternaturally uncomfortable in your own skin. Emma was neither of those things. So, her experience, while lengthy partner-wise, didn’t necessarily extend beyond what was considered relatively standard.

Killian, on the other hand seemed to have a fountain of knowledge and experience.

He didn’t necessarily brag about it to her per say -- aside from his rather outrageous innuendos -- but there was a certain sureness and innate knowledge that wasn’t something you could necessarily fake, and could only come from wealth of experience. While there had been some fumbling in the beginning (usually on her end), he was nowhere near as clueless as others had been on how to touch her. It had been more like watching someone relearn a path rather than discovering it for the first time. And while it’s been great to be with someone who didn’t need a road map to her clitoris, it was also a bit disconcerting to be someone who was, quite frankly, a lot more experienced than you. 

And even more mortifyingly, teaching you things about sex despite getting your v-card swiped more than a decade ago.

It makes her feel like she’s being trained a bit. And honestly, she kinda hates that.

She doesn’t like the fact that he seems to be leading her around a training ring like she’s some skittish horse and he’s some absurdly patient seasoned equestrian. It makes her feel foolish and, even worse, she can’t help but feel like she’s boring him. And the last thing she wants to bore him.

(Boring means getting left behind.)

She knows it’s irrational to think so, but there’s nothing Emma is more terrified of than being left alone again. Sure, she has her family, and her boyfriend literally gave up his home and his entire way of life to be with her, but that fear runs deep. No matter how many justifications her parents, Neal, or anyone else give her, that pain doesn’t just disappear.  

(In the spirit of Jake Peralta: cool motive, still abandonment.)

She isn’t sure that she’s in love with him. Considering the fact that her parents are the Olympic gold medalists of True Love, she’s more than a little gun shy when it comes to even broaching that subject. However, she knows she doesn’t want him to leave. She wants more than anything for him to stay.

And that’s how she reaches the decision to “spice” things up.

(And naturally, as it is with all situations where someone tries to perfect an already good thing, it blows up in her face. Spectacularly.)

She doesn’t remember how she settled on the idea of bondage, but it’s something she’s the most familiar with, and all kinky things considered, it seems pretty low level; exciting, but not as far out there as some of the other things she’s come across when perusing for ideas. She’s not looking to do anything Fifty Shades, but she thinks it might be fun to tie him up and make him the focal point for once. Killian always focuses on her, and it might benefit their relationship for things to be a little less one-sided when it comes to the bedroom.

Besides, Killian is a pretty adventurous guy, and a pirate to boot. She’s pretty certain he’s had more than a few nights of debauchery, featuring far more lewd acts than a little light bondage play. Hell, she wouldn’t be remotely surprised if he’s been involved in an orgy or two. He’ll probably find her plans as vanilla as everything else they’ve been doing.

(You know what they say when you assume. It makes an ass of you and me.) 

She doesn’t tell him her plans, mainly because she can’t imagine he would object and also because she wants to surprise him. After letting him take the lead in this aspect of their relationship, she wants to show him that what she lacks in experience, she can make up for with a willingness to explore new things. She wants to be on his level, not someone he needs to teach.

So, she doesn’t tell him. She just brings a box of condoms, a pair of cuffs and a smile.

It starts the way it always does - with a kiss that has them both swaying side-to-side until they teeter awkwardly backwards into his room. She chucks her bag on the nightstand, only to have it smack the table lamp and send both items to the floor. She can’t bring herself to care when she has Killian splayed out on the bed below her, pupils blown wide, lips bruised and noticeable tenting in his incredibly tight pants.

(Seriously, is he capable of wearing anything else? She might have to buy him a more relaxed fit, if only to help her sanity. While he doesn’t have much of an ass, they highlight the muscles in his thighs and make her eyes jump to places that aren’t necessarily appropriate for the public.)

And then there’s the hair.

She loves his hair and the way it’s starting to get a little longer and curl over his ears. She loves tugging on it and the noises he makes when she does. She leans forward, unable to resist threading her fingers through the dark strands as she tilts his head up for another kiss. He accepts it enthusiastically, a low pleased grumble emitting from the back of his throat as she gives his hair a playful tug. He pulls her into his lap, hips rolling upwards with impatience.

Clothes are shed gracelessly. It takes more than a few tries for her to unbutton his vest, cursing him for choosing such finicky clothing. It’s just so typical for him to pick style over functionality. He laughs at her impatience, eyes twinkling with amusement. She wants to rip the bloody thing off.

(Holy fuck, she’s starting to sound like him.)

“Why so impatient, love? We have all night,” he asks, chuckling as she finally manages to undo his buttons. 

She doesn’t respond immediately, more focused removing his hook from its brace and placing it on the nightstand. More articles of clothing have fallen victim to that hook than she cares to count, and she has such a limited wardrobe as is.

“Maybe I have plans,” she responds with what she hopes is a coy smile. 

Both of his eyebrows rise at this, a smirk spreading across his lips as he settles back on his elbows.  

“Plans?”

“Yes,” she says, running her fingers along the length of his collarbone. “Plans. Fun plans. And if you’re good, you might even find out what they are.” 

“I’m not sure I’m capable of being good,” he responds, leaning up and placing all too brief kisses along her jaw and neck. “But I promise you, you’ll certainly like it when I’m bad.” 

“We’ll have to see about that.”

She pulls him into another fierce kiss, using it to distract him as she reaches back to riffle through her bag for her cuffs. It gets a bit awkward, the angle not quite right, but Killian does his best to make it work. When she finally gets her prize, she makes a noise of triumph against his lips before pushing him back against the bed and reaching for his wrists. 

“Swan!” 

Killian’s eyes go wide with shock, growing even larger as he catches sight of the handcuffs. Emma expects it, but it doesn’t last long. His face contorts into a new expression, one that’s far from the enthusiasm. 

She doesn’t get much time to process it, however because the world turns suddenly on its axis. 

One minute she’s straddling his thighs, trying to handcuff him, and the next thing she knows, she’s on her back with Killian looming above her with his only hand pressed to her throat, and not in a way that’s remotely friendly. His fingers dig painfully as they press into her windpipe, cutting off her oxygen. Every muscle in his body is tensed and his chest keeps heaving as if he’s struggling to breathe. His eyes aren’t shocked; they’re panicked. 

They stare at each other for a few seconds, Emma still stunned by the turn of events while Killian looks more like a frightened animal than a person. Her lungs burn painfully and she chokes a bit as she tries to breathe. He jumps at the sound, his face changing from frightened to horrified. He pushes himself away from her forcefully, propelling his body until he’s precariously close to falling off the bed. He pulls himself into a sitting position and turns his back to her, fingers gripping the side of the bed as if holding on for dear life. Emma lays there, mind reeling, still stunned by the sudden turn of events. Her fingers move to touch where she can still feel the hard press of his palm. 

A million questions buzz in her head, each too fleeting for her to truly grasp but each more panicked and disturbed than the next. She doesn’t know what the hell just happened, but her pulse is thundering loudly in her ears and she has the same feeling of ice water in her veins that she did in the Clocktower when Gold was about to crush his heart.

Killian still has his back to her and while she can’t see his face, his shoulders are shaking, and she can still hear the harshness of his breath even over the chaotic orchestra her insides are playing.

“I…” The vowel sounds hoarse leaving his mouth. “I…I’m sorry…I…” 

He reaches for his clothes, pulling Emma away from the hornet’s nest in her head. She sits up, on instinct reaching out to him. He flinches and inches further away from her hand, which somehow hurts more than when he tried to choke her. A wounded noise emits from the back of her throat. He doesn’t acknowledge it. He picks up his shirt and pulls it over his head one-handed. It’s on backwards but he doesn’t seem to care.

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“I need to go,” he says shortly, not looking at her.

She opens her mouth to speak, but her words fall short. Emma doesn’t know what she wants to say. She knows she should say something, but what exactly, she doesn’t know. She still hasn’t processed what exactly happened.

Emma can still feel his hand on her throat.

(What the hell just happened?)

She’s still trying to answer that question, while Killian’s haphazardly pulling on his boots. She raises her hand again, but pulls it back. She wants to touch him, to do something, but she doesn’t know what to do and she can’t bear the sight of him pulling away from her again, like she’s something vile. 

Before she can even come to a course of action, the door slams shut. And she’s alone.

(Again.

She’s alone again.)

The thought leaves her feeling frozen, like she’s back in the ice prison again except this time she’s not surrounded by ice. It’s inside of her spreading over each and every one of her organs. She wraps her arms around herself in attempt at...warmth? Comfort? She isn’t sure anymore.

She isn’t sure of anything.

(What the hell just happened?)

One minute they were fine and about to have a good time, and the next thing he’s attacking her and then suddenly he can’t even look at her. All of it happened so fast that she’s still not quite sure what caused all of it. What the hell did she do?

She gets up, pins and needles shooting through her legs. They’re completely unhappy with her after sitting on the bed for so long. She doesn’t know how much time has passed, but she knows she needs to do something. Walking into the ensuite and turns on the light, she winces at the harsh intensity of the fluorescent bulb; sucking in a breath when she catches sight of herself in the mirror.

There’s an angry red ring around her throat.

She touches it again, this time more tentatively. The flesh is tender and a small hiss leaves her without her permission. Killian is long gone, but the phantom pain of his hand is still there. It had only been a few seconds but the feeling and the fear refuses to leave. 

Fear.

The realization hits her like whiplash. She had been afraid of him. He could have hurt her.

He did hurt her.

(Why?)

She doesn’t have any answers. She doesn’t know what she did for Killian to act like this, but he’s left her and she’s pretty certain he isn’t coming back. 

She hates the fact that hurts her more than the potential bruises.

Angry tears form at the corner of her eyes and she splashes water on her face to keep herself from seeing them. She glances at the clock, not necessarily because she’s interested in the time so much as she doesn’t want to see herself reflected in the mirror.

2:00.

Fuck.

She should leave. She hadn’t been planning on going back to the loft, but she knows she can’t stay here even if Killian doesn’t plan on coming back. She needs to get out of here and sleep somewhere else, where the imprint of his hand can’t follow her.

She pulls her hair into a messy, half-assed ponytail, not bothering it to smooth out the awkward bumps. Her limbs feel as heavy as lead as she puts on her clothes. She wants nothing more than to sleep, but she can’t. Not here.

The streets of Storybrooke are deathly silent as she walks back to the loft. It’s a cool night and the chill highlights the unnatural warmth pulsating from her neck. She pulls her jacket tighter around her. It has always been her shield from the world, but it’s protection was futile. What she needed protecting from had already gotten past her walls.

She can’t stop thinking about it, her brain like an old scratched DVD, playing the same scene over and over again in her mind. She can’t help but relive that moment when he was above her and she couldn’t breathe. She still remembers the look on his face; eyes wide, nostrils flaring and cheeks white. It hadn’t been anger on his face.

It had been fear.

What the hell did he have to be afraid of? He wasn’t the one with the hand on his throat.

Why did he do that?

Why did he leave?

The questions swirl around in her mind as she attempts to unlock the front door of their building. It takes her an embarrassing three tries to open it, but when she finally did, a sense of relief came over her. She’s home and she can sleep.

She’s so tired.

The door to the loft groans as she opens it, sounding unnaturally loud in the stillness of the night. The noise wakes the baby, his wails as ear-piercing as thunder. She can hear her parents waking up behind their curtain. 

She can’t face them. 

Not right now. 

Not after everything that happened with Killian.

She races across the room instead, making her way up the stairs. Her hands tremble as she clings to the bannister like it’s a life line, each ascending step feeling heavier and more precarious than the last.

It’s a relief when she finally reaches her bed and crawls underneath her covers, pulling them over her head in an attempt to cocoon herself away from the world. She wants to escape, to find some peace and quiet. Unfortunately, Little Neal doesn’t seem to want adhere that desire. His screams keep getting louder and louder.

“That’s a mood if I ever heard one,” she mumbles, burying her face in her pillow.

Her mother’s soothing voice sounds throughout the apartment as she attempts to lull Neal back to sleep. Slowly, the cries quiet down and the growing silence echoes inside of her. It’s then that the anger gives away to immeasurable sadness, tears dribbling at the corners of her eyes and leaking down her cheeks.

Once again, she’s alone and no one wants her. Not her parents. Not her brother. And especially not her pirate boyfriend, if he’s even her boyfriend anymore. She’s not so sure.  

(What the hell happened?)

It’s frustrating to be in this position again, hurt and confused as to why. She should have known it wasn’t going to work. She’s never been in a healthy and real relationship before and it was silly of her to think otherwise. She should have known it would blow up in her face.

(But why?)

(Why?)

(Why?)

It’s the question on her mind keeps playing over and over in her mind as she falls into a fitful slumber, hoping against hope that sleep will bring some clarity.

It doesn’t.

[faveficarchive]

I, Conqueror: Part 4

By SwordnQuil

Pairing: Xena/Gabrielle

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: The best Conqueror tale I’ve ever read, this story follows a similar line to Remember Nothing (No violence alt-universe Xena). Gabrielle wakes up to find herself in a universe where Xena has conquered Greece, Callisto is her right-hand, and the world trembles at her feet. Can she set to rights this world turned upside-down?

From her spot just to the right of the huge crowd, Callisto watched, grinning maliciously, as Gabrielle screamed. "So, the annoying little brat recognizes the death of a kindred spirit, does she?" Cocking her head, she watched with interest as Tao Feng gathered the distraught woman close to him, looking concernedly down at her. "And she seems to have found a little friend. How sweet."

The gears in her mind spun and, in response, her face lit up in a brilliant smile that reached all the way to her eyes. "Oh, my dear little Gabrielle! For the first time in your annoying little life, you just may be of some use to me after all!"

Then, like a specter, she was gone.

***

Tao Feng gathered the sobbing young healer to his body briefly before holding her out to the length of his arms and peering down at her in concern. "What is it, Gabrielle?"

"It could have been me," the bard murmured, half incoherent through her tears. "It could have been me up there. It could have been me!"

"I am afraid I do not understand you, Gabrielle. Who could have been you?"

"That woman!"

Tao Feng looked up quickly, then back down at the weeping blonde woman. "The one on the cross?"

Gabrielle nodded, her hand over her eyes.

"She is an insurrectionist, Gabrielle. She spoke against the Realm."

Taking her hand quickly away from her face, the bard lifted her head, fury sparking in her eyes. "She spoke for the people!"

Again, the elderly healer looked up, his seamed face paling as his almond eyes darted toward the marble platform. He couldn’t quite hold in a breath of relief when he saw the Conqueror’s gaze firmly upon the cross that was being planted into the ground beside the dais.

Tao Feng risked a quick glance at the crowd around them, gratified to see that they, too, were staring at the spectacle taking place near the Conqueror’s throne.

Then he looked back to Gabrielle, who was still staring at him with blazing eyes. "It is an unfortunate thing that is done here, Gabrielle. But a lesson was learned. Not so much on the girl’s part, of course. But the Conqueror’s laws are to be respected. The people must be made to understand that."

"Tell that to her," the bard snarled, throwing the hand he had resting on her shoulder away with brute force.

The healer looked around again, his heart thudding crazily in his chest. Speaking against the Realm was suicide even in the darkest of caverns. In broad daylight, surrounded by a massive army, with the Conqueror of Greece sitting mere yards away from them...

He reached out again, only to have his arm deflected.

"Don’t touch me, Tao Feng. Not right now."

The crowd’s low murmuring caused the healer to look up sharply. He sighed in relief as he watched Xena, in her palanquin, being borne up onto the strong shoulders of her attendants.

Murmuring turned to cheering as the Conqueror’s parade left the platform and started back toward the massive palace.

Once Xena and her followers were out of sight, the crowd began to break up, talking quietly among themselves, some shooting glances toward the mercifully unconscious woman hanging from the cross and guarded over by a half-dozen armed men.

Gabrielle finally looked up, toward the hanging woman, her eyes stony. She examined the men standing around the cross, studying their expressions and wishing she’d thought to bring her staff with her.

"We need to leave, Gabrielle," Tao Feng said softly, taking care to keep his body well away from hers, as requested.

"Not without her."

The healer’s eyes widened. "Impossible!"

Gabrielle rounded on the older man. "I’m tired of hearing you say that, Tao Feng! It’s getting old! I’m going to rescue that poor woman up there. Are you going to help me, or not?"

As Tao Feng continued to stare silently down at her, Gabrielle’s expression twisted into one of distaste and disappointment. "Fine. I’ll do it myself, then."

Her determined step away broke the healer’s paralysis, and he reached out an arm. "Wait. Please."

"Not this time, Tao Feng. I’m not going to be too late again. Not this time." From where she was standing, still some distance away, Gabrielle could see the woman’s struggling efforts to breathe.

"No. I will help you. But going in and fighting those guards, assuming they can even be defeated by the likes of us, and stealing that woman’s body will ultimately end in our own executions." He smiled. "There is a better way."

Gabrielle turned back, arms crossed over her chest. "I’m listening."

***

Pulling back on the reins, Tao Feng brought the horses to a smooth stop several feet from the guarded cross. Tucked inside the back of the wagon, Gabrielle put the finishing touches on her costume, pulling the black hood up over her head to hide her features. The healer turned back to her and nodded before standing up and stepping out of the wagon, his face set.

Returning the nod, Gabrielle carefully eased herself out of the back of the wagon and took up a deferential stance behind the horses, trying her best to portray a meek attitude.

Tao Feng, undisguised, stepped up to the guards, who looked down at him with contempt.

"What do you want, old man."

"I have come to remove the body."

"Not a chance. The Conqueror wants this bitch’s corpse hangin’ high for everyone to see."

The healer took an exaggerated look around the empty square, then turned back to the soldiers. "But there is no one here. The crowds have all left." He took a step closer to the group. "Please allow me to do my job. There are men in the main camp who must be attended to."

"Then go back and tend ‘em, ya old goat, and leave us be. The bitch comes down when the Conqueror says she comes down."

Tao Feng sighed, and then bowed deeply. "Very well. I shall leave. But if the Conqueror should complain of the corpse’s stench ruining her noon meal, I can only hope that you will be kind enough to tell her that it was you who sent me away when I tried to perform my duties." He slowly looked up into the blazing noon-day sun, shading his eyes with one hand. "It promises to be quite hot today. The decomposition should begin very soon." He bowed again. "Good day to you all."

The guards looked at one another.

Then up into the sky.

Then over their shoulders toward the nearby castle.

Then back at Tao Feng, who was waiting patiently.

"Oh alright," the lead guard finally said, gesturing with his spear. "But be quick about it, old man. I’ve got a meal waiting for me too."

Tao Feng bowed again. "Rest assured, I shall move as fast as is humanly possible."

Turning, he gestured to Gabrielle, who walked slowly, gracefully over to the group.

"And who’s this? Yer bodyguard?"

The men laughed as the head guard used the tip of his spear to slide the hood from Gabrielle’s head. The bard stiffened, but kept her head bowed, hoping that the black wig she was wearing had the fortitude to stand up to the soldiers’ examination.

"She is my associate, Hee La. She has come over with the soldiers from Chin. She is a most capable assistant."

"Looks a little scrawny to me," the guard replied, peering at the robed woman who was staring meekly at the ground beneath her feet.

"Yeah. I bet I know just how she assists ya, too," another contributed, complete with lewd gestures to punctuate his feeble attempt at wit.

The group laughed again.

Tao Feng smiled enigmatically. "She is much stronger than she looks."

"Whatever. Just get that carcass down from the cross now, old man."

"As you wish."

***

Tao Feng once again pulled the horses to a stop, this time just behind the large healing tent within the Greek encampment. Hopping quickly from the seat, he strode over to the rear of the wagon and peered inside. "Is she alive?"

Gabrielle looked up, cradling the broken young woman against her body. "Barely," she whispered, stroking the wavy golden hair tenderly. "Thank you, Tao Feng. You risked your life to save a stranger. I appreciate that." The bard smiled slightly. "I’m sure she does, too."

Though it wasn’t in the man’s nature to blush, Tao Feng could feel, to his extreme embarrassment, the heat traveling from his neck to his cheeks and ears. He cleared his throat gruffly, gripping the splintered wood of the wagon’s short lip. "We cannot keep her here, you know. She is most unsafe in the middle of the Conqueror’s main war camp."

Gabrielle nodded. "Yes. I know. I have a friend who I think can help. I’ll take her there."

Tao Feng nodded. "We must not waste time, then. Tell me where to go."

"No. I need to do this alone, Tao Feng. My friend is...very secretive."

"Absolutely not. This territory is much too dangerous for a woman traveling alone. Even a woman as skilled as you."

The bard smiled softly. "If you recall, Tao Feng, I traveled alone before I met you."

"And look at the trouble you’ve gotten yourself into since then!"

Gabrielle laughed out loud. "Speak for yourself, my friend." Her expression became somber. "Trust me, Tao Feng. I can take care of myself." Reaching out, she softly touched his arm with her free hand. "You’re needed here. Like you said to those guards, the wounded need tending to. I’ll be okay."

"But - "

"Please."

Whatever strength he might have had broke to pieces in the face of the beautiful woman’s soft plea. Tao Feng sighed, then nodded.

Gabrielle smiled brightly, squeezing the healer’s thin arm. "Thank you."

Tao Feng cleared his throat again, adopting his coolest expression. "Yes. Well. Just endeavor to return safely. And quickly. The men have need of you as well, healer."

"I’ll be as quick as I can. Take care of yourself, Tao Feng. And thanks again."

The healer bowed deeply, respectfully, then turned and, without looking back, slipped around the healing tent, leaving Gabrielle to her task.

***

Though it took nearly a day to walk the path, it took a fraction of that with two strong and spirited horses adding their assistance. Gabrielle gently pulled the wagon to a halt outside a cave that appeared at first glance to be deserted. Gingerly stepping out of the cart, she walked up to the cave opening. "Um...hello? Is anybody home?"

Silence.

"Damn. Manus, you have to be home. There’s no where else I can turn right now."

Sighing at the continued silence, Gabrielle walked back to the bed of the wagon and looked inside. The young woman was still alive, though her breathing was very shallow and her skin remained blue-tinged. "I’m sorry," she whispered to the girl, reaching out to stroke her cheek gently and shivering at the waxen chill of the young woman’s flesh. "I’m so sorry this happened to you."

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and the bard whirled around, pushing against the back of the wagon to protect the precious burden residing within. She relaxed a split-second later as her eyes beheld the very welcome sight of Manus, the Priest of the Fates, his aged face creased with worry.

"Gabrielle, what’s wrong? Are you alright? What is the problem? Are you alone? What do you need?"

Smiling slightly, the bard held up her hands. "I’m fine, Manus. Honest. I came here because I need help, and, well, you’re the only one I can think of to give it to me."

Manus’ face creased further. "I cannot interfere in this, Gabrielle."

"I’m not asking you to interfere, Manus. I’m asking for your help." Stepping away from the wagon, she gestured toward it.

The priest stepped forward, peering into the wagon’s straw-lined bed. Wide-eyed, he turned back to Gabrielle. "Who is she?"

The bard shook her head sadly. "I don’t know. She got caught, somehow, speaking against the Realm, giving voice to the people." Her face set in anger once again. "Xena crucified her."

Manus looked back at the woman. "But...she’s still alive!"

"Yes, I know. And I need to make sure she stays that way. That’s why I’m here." She looked down at the small man. "She’s not safe in Xena’s camp. She’s not really safe anywhere." She laid a hand on Manus’ shoulder. "Can you help?"

Manus looked down at the unconscious woman again. "Her injuries are very severe."

"I know."

"I can’t promise anything."

"I know that, too."

After a long moment, the priest nodded. "Then I shall do the best I can do. Help me bring her into the cave and close by the fire."

***

After unburdening the horses, brushing them down, and leaving them to wander the small corral outside of the healing tent, Gabrielle slipped inside the enclosure, her mind on nothing save for the comfortable cot awaiting her there.

Despite her exhaustion, both mental and physical, her step was much lighter, having left the grievously injured woman in safe hands. She only wished she knew the woman’s name. Did she have any family to mourn her? Anyone who would cry joyously when she walked back into their lives once again?

Or was she truly alone, like Gabrielle herself was alone? A single human being for whom the weight of the entire world rested on her shoulders?

Enough of that. Any more of those kind of thoughts and I’ll never get to sleep.

Blinking in the low lighting, she could see that Tao Feng had done his job well. Where she had left a full tent of injured soldiers, only two remained at her return, both resting comfortably.

From a spot in one shadowed corner, the healer finished washing his hands and turned, a slight smile on his somber face. "Welcome back. Were you successful?"

Gabrielle returned the smile. "Yes. She’s in good hands." She looked around the nearly empty tent again. "Looks like you were pretty successful yourself."

"All part of my plan to ensure that we would both be able to sleep soundly tonight."

The bard yawned and stretched her body, stiff from hours of riding in the uncomfortable wagon. "Sounds good to me. It feels like years since I’ve had a decent night’s sleep."

Tao Feng’s smile deepened. "Then my plan was a success." He gestured to the freshly made cot at his side. "Your bed awaits. Get in and dream of only pleasant things."

Doing as she was bade, Gabrielle groaned as she slipped in between the soft furs of the bed made up for her. She yawned again, rubbing at eyes filled with road dust. "You too, Tao Feng. Sleep well, my friend."

***

The night was dark and heavy with the scents of the earth reveling in the just-passed rain. The fire hissed as the damp branches protested the giving of their precious moisture to the heat of the flames.

Gabrielle lay on her back, luxuriating in the feel of the dry, soft furs dancing against her heated, sweating body. Her gaze was captured in the smoldering glance of eyes gone white-silver with erotic passion.

Raven hair, fragrant with crushed herbs, tickled her shoulders and breasts as the moonlight-gilded body of her sweat-sheened lover rocked sensually against her, stimulating her senses beyond belief.

Her fists planted firmly against the damp ground, Xena thrust against the willing body of her lover, her heavy breasts skimming sweetly over Gabrielle’s moist skin. She growled deep in her chest as her lover’s body opened itself more fully to her, feeling the wet heat as it seared a path along her lower abdomen and back with each thrust of her hips.

Panting heavily with passion’s exertion, Gabrielle turned her head and bit down into the plump, corded muscle of the forearm planted beside her. The action caused Xena to groan and thrust more forcefully against her, her lips parting as her flashing silvered eyes narrowed down to slits.

The heady scents, sights and sounds seemed to coalesce within the body of the bard and she felt that curious drawing up that preceded a breathtakingly powerful release.

Teeth still embedded in salty flesh, Gabrielle reached up with the last of her strength, latched onto her lover’s swaying breasts and drew forth the explosion waiting within her.

Green eyes snapped open in the tent’s night-blackness as breath rushed forth from labored lungs. Gabrielle sat up quickly, senses already tingling danger even through the passion haze of her fading dream.

Her heightened senses caused her to duck and roll, neatly avoiding a rudely grasping hand. The furs tangled around her legs softened her fall to the dirt-packed floor, but she shed the blankets quickly, jumping up and lashing out with one well-muscled leg.

A crash followed a grunting wheeze as the bard’s attacker collapsed onto a nearby cot, his heavy weight shattering the frame and dumping the man to the ground.

More hands grabbed at her, pinning her arms to her sides and encircling her waist. She whipped her head back at the one behind her, catching his trachea and forcing him to let go.

She then twisted, freeing first her right arm, then her left and lashed out with hands and feet, blindly keeping her attackers at bay.

"Back off!" she snarled as an errant hand found its way past her defenses and grabbed at her breast in an attempt to secure a handhold. She kicked back, and high, and got a breathless whimper that told her she’d been on target with the groin shot.

The man crumpled forward against her and she pushed back with all her might, sending him sprawling over several more of the empty cots.

The group closed in again and she fought them off as best she could, getting strong punches and kicks in to sensitive body parts every chance she was able.

After what seemed an eternity, the tent flap opened and a man entered, shadowed by the large bonfire blazing outside. "Stop now, or he dies."

Gabrielle froze as the man stepped slightly to the right, revealing the knife he held to Tao Feng’s long, thin neck. In that instant, the bard knew exactly what it felt like to be Xena during the first couple years of their travels together.

She found she didn’t like it one bit.

Raising her hands, she allowed the men to close in around her once more. She gritted her teeth against the almost overwhelming instinct to lash out against their coarse hands as they dug into her flesh.

The man smiled, the scars on his face giving it a lopsided, evil look. "That’s right, little girl. Play nice and the old man here stays alive."

"What do you want with me," Gabrielle ground out, trying to keep her breathing steady.

"We don’t want you, little girl. The Conqueror does."

Lewd chuckles filled the tent.

"In the middle of the night?"

The man shrugged, then grinned again. "They say that’s when she does her best work."

Laughter rang out again.

"I’ll be sure and tell her you said so," Gabrielle said, smiling insincerely.

The smile disappeared from his face. "Say one word, bitch, and your friend here sees what it’s like to breathe through the hole I’ll put in his neck."

"Fine. Take me to her then."

***

Xena lounged back into the deep well of her throne, garbed in a blue silk robe whose sheerness and cut drove her interior door-guard into periodic fits of apoplexy every time his eyes rose to gaze upon her.

Callisto stalked the huge room like a caged beast, her boot heels ringing on the stone flooring, only to be muffled as she stepped onto the lush carpeting which laid a crimson path to the throne. Her expression was decidedly gleeful as she paced, twirling locks of her long, blonde hair with every step she took.

Hearing the commotion before anyone else, the Conqueror gestured for the door to be opened, which it was, to admit Gabrielle surrounded by her retinue of guards. Walking the young woman to the throne, the guards bowed and the largest of them brought a knee to Gabrielle’s back as an enticement to kneel.

Stepping forward, Gabrielle ignored the blunt summons. Then, locking eyes with Callisto, she slowly, deliberately lowered herself to her knees before the throne, her back straight, her head unbowed.

Looking up at her guards, the Conqueror hid her amused smirk at their dishevelment. One was sporting an already blackening eye, another was rubbing at his throat, and another was holding himself ramrod straight, sweat beading between his bushy brows. Xena well imagined what had been done to him to cause that type of expression. With a flick of her hand, she dismissed the guards, who bowed and exited the room with alacrity.

Anger flashed in Callisto’s dark eyes, but she tempered it with a smirk. "So, the little Amazon knows something about protocol after all, does she? What a plus!"

Ignoring the taunt, Gabrielle turned her eyes to Xena’s, ignoring the temptation to let her gaze wander lower to take in the generous and supple curves so barely hidden by the sheer fabric. "I believe you sent for me?"

The corner of Xena’s mouth curved upwards fractionally in appreciation of Gabrielle’s bold move.

Callisto stepped forward, intentionally towering over the kneeling woman, her eyes alight with absolute knowledge and insane glee. "I believe we haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Callisto. And I am the Conqueror’s partner."

Gabrielle turned her eyes back to her tormentor, well aware of Callisto’s tactics and refusing to rise to the bait being dangled. Instead, she smiled sweetly. "How wonderful for you."

Taken off guard, Callisto’s response was automatic. She drew her hand back swiftly, fully intending to wipe the grin from the bard’s face.

"Callisto..."

The low-voiced rumble of the warning was ominous and Callisto quickly dropped her hand. Instead, she smiled. "It will be so delightful to hear how that pretty tongue of yours speaks when it’s being ripped out of your head like the Roman spies you sent into the camp last night, dear."

Now it was Gabrielle’s turn to be taken off-guard. She had thought that her enforced visit had sprung directly from the young woman she’d rescued from the cross. During her short journey into the castle, she’d thought up many arguments to explain her actions. Now she was being accused of something else altogether. "I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about," she replied honestly.

Callisto laughed. "Oh come now, my dear. Even those fat lumps of goat dung you brought in here thought up more inventive excuses than that! And you call yourself a bard."

The tall blonde froze as she realized her mistake. Gabrielle, however, grinned and pounced. "I believe you have me confused with someone else, Callisto. I’m a healer. Not a bard."

Gabrielle turned her head in time to catch Xena looking at Callisto, a speculative expression on her face. Feeling the gaze, Callisto looked back, smiling innocently. "I heard the soldiers talk about her skill at telling stories."

Gabrielle groaned inwardly, forgetting that she had, indeed, attempted to cheer up the injured men by telling them stories. Still, it was good to know that there were chinks in Callisto’s armor. That gave her hope. "I won’t deny that I told the men stories. If that makes me a bard in your eyes, so be it."

"Well I, for one, would just love to hear the little tale you’ve concocted to explain just how you managed to show up here on the very day our men were attacked and the Roman spies were found trying to run away."

"Coincidence."

Callisto threw back her head and laughed. "’Coincidence’? Surely you can do better than that, can’t you?"

"It’s the truth, and you know it, Callisto."

Grinning wildly, Callisto looked down at Gabrielle, fingering the hollow of her neck. "Oh I do, do I?" Her smile became a snarl. "The only thing I know, you annoying little brat, is that Persian soldiers dressed as Egyptians attacked the Conqueror’s men in an obvious attempt to allow three Roman spies to escape with some sort of information which cost them their tongues and hands."

Callisto smirked at Gabrielle’s pained wince.

"And all the while, a strange woman bearing the staff of an Amazon Queen coincidentally happens to find herself in the middle of the mayhem." She turned to the watching Conqueror. "Are you buying this load of dung?"

When Xena didn’t answer, Callisto turned back to Gabrielle, who spoke first. "I was fighting those men, Callisto, same as you were."

"Ohhhhh, you were fighting them. With what? Your little stick? Bet you didn’t kill any though, did you."

Gabrielle gritted her teeth. "I. Don’t. Kill."

Callisto smiled sweetly. "Of course you don’t, dear. How fortunate for the ‘enemy’ you’re fighting against."

Clenching her fists, the bard managed to keep a hold on a temper that was growing more heated by the second.

"But then again, you always were too much of a goody-goody to relish a good kill, weren’t you."

The moment the words were out of her mouth, Callisto paled, frozen to the spot. Forcing her muscles to move, she slowly turned her head, only to be captured by a pair of glittering blue eyes. "That...didn’t quite come out the way I meant it to."

"I’m sure it didn’t," Xena replied, leaning slowly forward in her chair, her smile dark and hungry.

"I could explain - "

"Leave."

"But - "

"Leave."

Making her first truly wise decision of the evening, the Conqueror’s second in command spun on her heel and, after shooting a deadly glare toward the still kneeling Gabrielle, strode from the room as quickly as her legs could carry her.

After the door closed, Xena rose gracefully to her feet and closed the distance between herself and Gabrielle. "Get up." Her voice was deathly soft.

The bard stood quickly, ignoring the swimming sensation in her head, a sensation caused as much from the abrupt change in position as from the sudden and menacing presence of Xena just inches away. Still, she managed to meet the Conqueror’s eyes without fear.

"How do you know Callisto."

Gabrielle’s mind whirled with a thousand thoughts as the words suddenly dried up in her throat.

Reaching out, Xena tilted the younger woman’s chin upward, her grip biting. "Answer me quickly, Amazon, or the fate of those Roman spies will be the Elysian Fields compared to what I’ll do to you."

Swallowing hard, Gabrielle decided to go with what she knew.

The truth.

Or as much of it as she could reveal, given the circumstances.

"She killed my husband," she said softly.

Xena felt a brief moment of shock, that being the last answer she would have suspected, but refrained from letting it show. She continued to stare silently at the smaller woman, waiting.

"We had only been married a day, and we were both unarmed, but she killed him anyway in cold blood."

"So your being here was a ruse to get you close enough to take your revenge on her."

Gabrielle’s eyes flashed. "No. When I said I didn’t kill, I was telling you the truth." She took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "I wanted to kill her at the time. I wanted to rip her heart out and feed it to her." She dropped her eyes, remembering. "But I didn’t."

Xena was intrigued. "And why was that."

"Because a friend convinced me that losing my blood innocence over someone like Callisto just wasn’t worth it. And she was right."

"And where is that ‘friend’ now?"

Gabrielle looked back up, staring deep into Xena’s penetrating eyes and speaking a truth in her heart. "She’s dead."

"Then there’s really nothing stopping you from going after Callisto, is there."

Green eyes blazed with determination. "Yes, there is. My friend may be gone, but her message, and her love, lives on in my heart. And no one can take that away from me. Not Callisto. Not even you."

Dropping her hand away from Gabrielle’s face, Xena turned and walked back to her throne, lowering herself into the seat with fluid grace. She smiled slightly; the first expression of true emotion Gabrielle had seen from her. "You intrigue me, Amazon. At first I thought you a simple spy, perhaps in collusion with Callisto. But you have depths to you which reach far beyond that."

Gabrielle looked up, stunned. "Would you mind, uh,  backing up a little? 'In collusion with Callisto?’ What does that mean, exactly?"

The bard’s heart twisted slightly as the familiar and beloved gesture of Xena’s characteristic eyebrow-raise was directed at her. "Perhaps I should reassess my opinion of your intelligence."

"Are you trying to tell me you know that Callisto’s out to get you?" Gabrielle asked, wide-eyed.

The Conqueror gestured toward the room around her. "One doesn’t attain this type of position without being well aware of what’s going on around oneself." Her eyes, though, spoke other messages, ones of betrayal and trusts brutally broken, of lessons learned the hard way, and of the absolute determination never to let it happen again.

Confused, Gabrielle scratched at the back of her neck. "Forgive me for saying this then, but why in the world do you keep her around?"

Xena’s smile became dark. "Keep your friends close; your enemies closer."

"But you said you don’t have any friends."

"Exactly."

"And am I your enemy?"

"As I said, I have no friends."

Gabrielle’s gaze shone with compassion. "That’s a very lonely way to live a life."

Xena’s eyebrow went up again. "That depends on who’s living it."

"I disagree," Gabrielle replied, warming to her subject. "To live without love is something none of us should be forced to experience."

The Conqueror snorted. "Love is a myth told to beggars by bards to let them forget the hunger in their bellies. It is a weakness to anyone who thinks they possess it."

"You’re wrong," Gabrielle said, forgetting, in her passion, just who she was talking to. "Love does exist. It’s not a weakness. It’s a strength."

"Spoken like a true zealot." Looking over the bard’s left shoulder, Xena gestured with one hand, causing Gabrielle to look in that direction and watch as two gorgeous women walked gracefully forward from the shadows. The smaller of the two, a beautiful Asian, bore a large bowl in her hands, while the taller woman held a gem-encrusted decanter and matching goblet. When they reached the throne, Niamey and Ling Li knelt down and held up their offerings to the Conqueror.

Gabrielle fought down the tiny seed of jealousy that threatened to raise its head over the display.

At Xena’s nod, Niamey poured the liquid from the decanter into the goblet, then handed it to her Ruler.

Drinking deep of the sweet wine, the Conqueror used her other hand to reach into the bowl of oiled olives, her long, slim fingers plucking one from the rest and casually popping it into her mouth. As she separated the meat from the pit, Xena looked down at the young blonde, watching the healer watch her lips. "Tell me, Amazon," she said, almost casually, "when my men put that young woman on the cross, did you feel her pain?"

Gabrielle’s eyes narrowed. "Yes. She didn’t deserve to be executed for giving the people hope."

Fishing another olive from the bowl, the Conqueror nodded, expecting the answer she received. "How is she, by the way?" she asked, eyeing the ripe olive as if it were a rare and precious jewel.

Gabrielle just managed to keep her jaw from dropping open at the casually uttered question. She swallowed hard as her heart sped its rate in her chest. "She’s safe."

"Mmm."

The bard willed Xena to meet her gaze, but the Conqueror continued to roll the olive between her fingers, watching as the light from the torches played off its shining skin.

"It’s just as well. The girl meant very little to me in any case." It was then that Xena looked up, her gaze intense with knowledge. "The message was received, as intended." She smiled slightly. "And I should thank you for your act. You managed to prevent me further troubles down the road."

"I don’t understand."

"You mean you didn’t see my little display?"

"What display?"

Xena rose gracefully to her feet and stepped between her two attendants. "Come," she said to Gabrielle, who followed her to the window.

Upon looking out, the bard gasped.

Where one empty cross had stood just hours before, six now stood, each bearing the body of a slowly dying soldier.

"If it hadn’t been for your rescue of the girl, I might not have known until too late that members of my Royal Guard could be so easily duped by a parlor trick." Xena bowed slightly, mockingly. "So, thank you for that. You saved me a great deal of trouble."

Gritting her teeth in angry frustration, Gabrielle whirled away from the window and strode once again into the center of the room, breathing heavily to keep from giving vent to her anger and horror.

Turning from the window, Xena leaned back against the cool stone, crossing her arms and smirking at the angry young healer. "So you see, Amazon, what you call ‘love’ is a weakness. For every person you save in its name, six more die because of it. Not a very profitable venture."

"Profit?! We’re talking about human lives here and you’re worried about profit?" Gabrielle’s eyes blazed with righteous indignation. "What kind of a monster are you??"

The Conqueror sneered. "A very powerful one."

Threading her hands through her own hair, Gabrielle pulled at it, shaking her head. "No. No, I’m not going to let you pull me down to your level. I won’t." Releasing her head, the bard looked up at the Conqueror, who was still smirking at her from beside the casement. "Xena, I know that beneath those trappings of godhood and feigned indifference, there’s a woman in there capable of compassion and love. I know it."

Pushing herself away from the wall, Xena walked over to Gabrielle, stopping just inches away. "Don’t delude yourself, Amazon. Others before you held the same convictions." The corner of her mouth curled. "They don’t feel that way anymore."

"No?" Gabrielle turned her head and looked over at Niamey and Ling Li, who were watching the proceedings avidly, if obliquely. "What about them?" She turned her gaze back to the woman towering over her. "I saw the looks in their eyes when they served you, Xena. And that look was love. If they can love you, there must be something inside you worthy of that emotion."

Xena looked at the two women still kneeling by her throne. As one, they blushed deeply, then looked down, heads bowed in unison. She turned back to Gabrielle, one hand reaching out to cup the young woman’s chin. "I’ll show you what they ‘love’ about me."

Lowering her head slowly, the Conqueror captured her healer’s lips in a kiss filled with animal passion. At first, Gabrielle sunk into it, the feelings the familiar action engendered too strong to resist. Her hands moved of their own accord, reaching up to tangle in Xena’s thick, fragrant hair and pull the taller woman more closely against her.

After a moment, though, her mind caught up to her hormones and she pulled away, trying to steady her rapid breathing and fluttering pulse. "That was lust, Xena. Don’t confuse it with love."

Xena smiled. "In the darkness of the night, the line between the two often becomes blurred." She pulled the smaller woman in close once more, pressing her lips against Gabrielle’s, before grasping her wrist in an iron grip and whirling around. "Niamey, draw a bath. Now."

"Don’t do this, Xena," Gabrielle said, struggling fruitlessly to disengage from the Conqueror’s vice grip.

"Monsters can do anything they wish, Amazon. And you’re about to find out exactly what this monster wishes to do to you."

"Xena..." Continuing her struggle, Gabrielle looked desperately over to the two silent servants, seeking help. Niamey had already arisen at her Ruler’s order, and Ling Li lowered her eyes in shame as the bard’s gaze touched hers.

Ignoring the healer’s attempts at escape, Xena strode forward toward her bathing chamber, giving Gabrielle little recourse but to stumble along behind the dark Empress or risk having her arm torn from its socket. Though she had firsthand knowledge of Xena’s legendary strength, that knowing didn’t stop her attempts to free herself in the slightest.

It also didn’t give her any success in the venture.

Upon entering the bathing chamber, Gabrielle was tossed into the arms of a surprised Niamey, who just managed to keep them both from toppling backwards into the rapidly filling tub. The tall African wrapped both arms around the smaller woman and steadied them both before releasing Gabrielle and looking over her head toward the sneering Conqueror, eyebrows raised in silent question.

"See to it that she’s cleaned and bring her to my rooms."

"Yes, Majesty."

Xena turned away, then looked back slightly over one broad shoulder. "I wouldn’t think of escaping if I were you. If you succeed, they’ll pay."

Gabrielle didn’t even bother to look up, having long since figured that Xena would seek to teach yet another lesson by using the bard’s compassion against her. Instead, she began to calmly undo the blouse so painstakingly re-sewn by Tao Feng’s talented hands, a part of her even managing to look forward to the first hot bath she’d enjoy in long weeks.

***

Freshly bathed and proudly naked, Gabrielle walked into the Conqueror’s private sleeping quarters, flanked on either side by Niamey and Ling Li.

Xena’s gaze was hot upon her as she walked forward, stopping only when she came close enough to feel the heat emanating from her avid watcher’s body. The Conqueror still wore her sheer robe, though it was unbelted and open enough to show the innermost curves of her breasts and the tiniest hint of the silken skin of her taut abdomen.

Looking down into the searing gaze, Gabrielle smiled; an open, sunny expression without a trace of fear or lust she knew the Conqueror would expect.

Xena’s eyes narrowed.

The bard’s smile broadened..

"What game are you playing, Amazon?"

"Gabrielle."

"What?"

"My name. Gabrielle. It occurs to me that you’ve never used it." She cocked her head slightly. "Why is that?"

Xena’s gaze sharpened and her lips parted in a soundless snarl, yet she made no move to capture the alluring body standing to tauntingly close to her own.

"Could it be that my name makes me a person, like you? Is that why you won’t use it?"

Growling, the Conqueror lashed out and captured Gabrielle’s wrist, pulling her down onto the bed and onto her back, covering the smaller woman with her larger body.

Gabrielle forced herself to lie still and pliant under the Conqueror’s ravishing lips, neither spurning nor encouraging the primal advances.

After a moment, Xena pulled away, looking down at her.

"I won’t fight you, Xena. If that’s what you’re looking for, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed."

The Conqueror smiled. "Oh," she purred, "I don’t think I will."

Again, the bard forced herself not to react. It was a difficult task, with half of her body wanting nothing more than to respond to the familiar fires Xena was stoking in her body, and the other half screaming all-out rebellion against the Conqueror’s actions. With effort, she drew upon the meditative techniques the warrior herself had taught her to remain as still and relaxed as possible as Xena’s hands followed her lips on a trek over Gabrielle’s sleek body.

After several more moments, Xena again pulled back. "Am I keeping you awake?"

Opening her eyes, Gabrielle stared up into the sardonic blue’s above her. "You wanted my body, Xena. You have it. My soul isn’t yours to take."

Grinning with malicious intent, Xena palmed one of Gabrielle’s breasts, squeezing slightly. "Oh? And who is the proud owner of such a prize?"

Taking in a deep breath, Gabrielle forced herself to remember that the cruel and calculating woman above her was the same person, down to the last molecule, as the woman who did own what the Conqueror couldn’t take. That, but for the simple intervention of one brave man, her Xena and this Xena would be one in the same.

Letting go the breath, she put all the boundless love she held for her soulmate into the strength of her gaze, staring directly into the stormy eyes of the Ruler of Greece.

Caught in the untold power of the gaze, Xena pulled sharply away as if burned, her own eyes wide and blinking, yet not having the strength to look away.

Gabrielle smiled, a soft and gentle expression, and tenderly lifted her palm to place flat against Xena’s cheek. "Love is the answer, Xena," she whispered.

For the briefest of seconds, Xena leaned her cheek into the warm palm of her healer, something in her drawn to the almost maternal comfort offered.

Then, as if coming fully into herself once again, she jerked her face away, then removed her hand from Gabrielle’s breast and flung the young woman from her bed to sprawl in an untidy heap on the cold stone floor. She looked up, eyes blazing. "Ling Li, call a guard."

Bowing hurriedly, the Chinese woman gathered up the folds of her colorful robe and dashed away on bare feet.

Rolling out of the bed, Xena grabbed Gabrielle by her already bruised and swollen wrist and pulled her to her feet, her eyes blazing. "Whatever sorcery you’re conjuring won’t work with me, Amazon. You’re very close to having your life ended simply because it would please me to do so." She grabbed the bard more tightly and shook her. "Don’t press your luck."

Before Gabrielle could think to reply—had one even been formulating in her head—Ling Li returned, a strapping guard in tow.

Xena pushed the healer away and into the professional hands of the older guard. "Confine her to one of the rooms in this hall and guard her well. If she isn’t in my throne room at dawn, you’ll be joining your fellows on the crosses outside. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Majesty."

"Leave me. All of you."

***

The castle servants had cleaned quite well and, lacking anything new or priceless to break, Callisto sat on her bed, thrusting her knife through the feather mattress and silk sheets, her face a twisted mask of anger.

When the half-expected light began to coalesce in her room, the warrior threw her knife, not at all surprised to find Ares, fully formed, tossing it in his hand and grinning. "Now, is that any way to great an old friend?"

"I’m sorry. Did someone make us ‘friends’ when I wasn’t looking?"

Laughing heartily, Ares flipped the knife back at Callisto, who caught it easily and slipped it into the sheath at her waist. "What do you want,." she asked, scowling.

The war-god shrugged. "I was in the neighborhood. Figured I’d pop in and see how things were going."

"You know damn well how things are going, Ares. That annoying little bitch is going to ruin everything!"

"And which annoying little bitch would that be again?" At Callisto’s murderous glare, Ares grinned. "Oh. That annoying little bitch." He shrugged again, the leather going tight against his shoulders and chest. "It’s not as if I didn’t warn you."

Callisto laughed mirthlessly. "Fat lot of good that did, Ares. Xena and the little brat are probably in her room right now going at it like rabbits!"

"Unfortunately, no." Ares sighed in affected disappointment. "I was hoping for a hot and heavy session of girl/girl action, but no dice, I’m afraid. Seems the little do-gooder pissed Xena off and spoiled the mood." He sighed again.

"I’m terribly sorry for the waste of a perfectly good hard-on, Ares, but that information, fascinating as it is, really doesn’t help me with my little problem, now does it."

"Who said I was trying to help? You’re the one who can’t keep her stories straight, not me."

Callisto’s dark eyes narrowed. "And you were enjoying every second of it, weren’t you."

Ares grinned. "Call me a sucker for a good tap-dance."

When Callisto didn’t rise to the bait, Ares contented himself with looking around the nearly denuded room. His gaze fell upon a heavy wooden table that had somehow managed to withstand the blonde’s insane rage. "Hello, what do we have here?"

Lacking anything better to do, Callisto rose to her feet and walked over to the table, looking down at the inlaid object that Ares was rubbing his index finger against. Then she looked up at the dark god. "It’s called a ‘rock’. Pry it out, why don’t you? I’m sure it’ll make a perfect match to the ones already in your head."

"Play nice, Callisto, or I’ll start to wonder why you don’t recognize the importance of this stone and give it to my sister instead. We all know how much she likes her little baubles." Ares stuck a finger in his mouth in a faux gag.

"Oh please fill me in, Ares. Won’t you?"

The god of war smirked. "Well, since you asked so nicely..." Using his powers, Ares easily levitated the stone into his palm, then tossed it lightly into the air, grinning. "Are you sure you don’t recognize it?"

Snarling, Callisto made a grab for the stone and missed, badly.

"Ah, ah, ah. You didn’t say the magic word."

"Bite me," the blonde growled.

"Close enough." As Ares bent forward, teeth bared, Callisto slipped away, grabbing the stone at the same time and peering closely at it. She then looked up at Ares, eyebrows raised.

"That, my dear, just happens to be the Ixion Stone."

Callisto looked back to the stone in her hand, disbelief stamped clearly across her features. "This is the Ixion Stone?"

Ares cocked his head. "I think that hearing problem of yours is getting worse. I’d see a healer about it pretty soon if I were you." He grinned. "Gabrielle’d be perfect for the job."

Callisto pointedly ignored Ares’ taunt as she stared at the stone in her hand. "So this is why that incompetent little piece of goat dung follows Xena around like a drowned puppy."

Ares folded his arms across his massive chest. "And which piece of goat dung would we be talking about now?"

Looking up, Callisto bared her teeth in an evil grin. "Dagnine, of course. This stone is the only goal in his miserable little life. Xena must be holding it over his head to insure that he does her bidding." Her eyelids fluttered closed. "She’s soooo good."

"That she is, my dear. That she most definitely is."

"Won’t he be surprised when he finds out who has this little trinket now?" Throwing her head back, she laughed, rattling the stone in her hand. Her eyes snapped open as a delicious idea popped into her head. "That’s it! I’ll use him to get the annoying brat out of the way, then use Xena to get him out of the way! It’s perfect!"

The war god pointed an enthusiastic finger at Callisto. "You have a really evil mind. I like that in a woman."

"Spare me."

Ares smoothed his beard and smiled. "Too bad Dagnine isn’t a storyteller like Gabrielle," he said after a moment.

"And why is that?"

"Because then, you could kill two bards with one stone! Get it?" Laughing uproariously, Ares sparkled out of existence, leaving a groaning Callisto behind.

[javocjovian]

The Trap, SPN Bingo

Title: The Trap Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17444402/chapters/43002287 Square Filled: sub!Dean Ship: Destiel Rating: E Warnings: Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Pain, Humiliation (with a happy ending!) Tags: Sex Pollen!Castiel, Top/Dom Castiel, First Time Destiel, Grace Bondage, Multiple Orgasms, Forced Orgasm, Grace Orgasm, Grace Healing, Fluffy ending, Rowena calls bullshit Summary: Castiel falls victim to a powerful spell and needs Dean's help Word Count: 3342

Created for @spnkinkbingo

Quote:

It was moments like these when Dean’s rational failed him. People often considered it one of his strengths; He never felt nervous before a fight, he never worried about the plan, his thoughts just stopped, allowing him to charge head first into danger. But in this situation, it wasn’t a strength at all. Dean’s thinking had completely abandoned him, leaving him only able to consider the unthinkable.

(x)

The Trap

Dean was bouncing back on the legs of a metal chair in a dimly lit storage room. The walls were lined with shelves full of unfamiliar crap, but Dean had barely noticed. He wished he had his headphones. He wasn’t bored, he was on edge. His gaze was unfocused, resting on the unconscious figure lying in an angel trap. Castiel was bleeding from his nose and his face was ruddy – he probably had a fever. When the guilt became too much, Dean looked away. This was all his fault.

Sam and Dean had been hunting a witch for three days. She’d enslaved a town in some sort of twisted revenge scheme, and they had to kill her to break the spell. It should have been a simple hunt, but it was never simple with witches. That was why Dean hated them. Well, most of them. Rowena did end up saving their lives at the last minute, but at the cost of Castiel’s well-being. So, yeah, Dean hated witches.

Dean’s eyes flicked back to Castiel when he heard him move. Castiel made a low grumble of a sound, like an animal stirring from a deep sleep, then lifted himself up on his hands. He’d had been knocked unconscious by Sam, but an angel could only stay unconscious for so long.

“Dean...”

Dean didn’t say a word.

“Dean…” Castiel repeated desperately. His voice was low and rough. He sat up and leaned heavily against a storage shelf, making it creak. He took a shuddering breath, “You need to leave...”

“Rowena will be here soon,” Dean assured him in a voice of forced calm, “I’ll stay with you until then.”

“No,” Castiel shook his head, “Need to… leave… you need to leave… I need… I need it...” Castiel made a pained sound and his eyes flashed blue. A wave of angel power extended to the edge of the trap and fizzled out. The light hanging from the ceiling flickered and swayed.

Dean swallowed his fear and put on a stoic face.

“I need it.”

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

The witch Sam and Dean had been hunting was stronger than either of them expected, so Castiel flew in to help. It was a coincidence that Rowena called. If she hadn’t, they would have never known that killing the witch outright could have ended their lives.

After hearing what the witch was capable of, Rowena told them that she was probably protecting herself with a revenge spell that would curse whoever killed her with whatever her most powerful spell was. The four of them assumed it would be the mind control spell, but there was no way to know for sure, so Castiel decided he should be the one to kill the witch.

Castiel reasoned that no matter what the spell was it probably couldn’t kill an angel. Rowena could then meet them and reverse whatever damage it had done. Sam and Dean didn’t like the plan, but they didn’t see another option. So they gave him their gun loaded with witch killing bullets and, after an intense fight, Castiel killed the witch.

“Dean…” Castiel growled.

The sound startled Dean and he looked over at him.

Castiel looked feral. His eyes were radiating blue energy and he was trembling with a ferocious need.

“I need you.”

Dean paused. “W...what?”

Castiel seemed to be going through some sort of internal transformation. One moment he was clutching the floor and groaning in pain, and the next moment he was growling and eyeing Dean hungrily. Dean could feel the angel trap pulsing with power.

“I want you, Dean.”

Dean swallowed. One look at Castiel confirmed his worst fears. Castiel was horny. He was fucking horny. Dean’s mind went blank. He looked away quickly, telling himself it was just a malicious side effect of the mind control spell, but he knew that wasn’t true. Castiel hadn’t been attacked by the mind control spell; Dean knew that the moment Castiel killed the witch. The spell she’d attached to the revenge spell was something much worse. Sam called it the attack dog spell, but Dean knew it wasn’t that, either.

The moment Castiel shot the witch, he turned on Sam and Dean. They fought him off in complete shock and baited him all the way to the storage facility. Dean had no idea how they managed to trap a violent, ravenous angel full of grace into some poor stranger’s storage room, but there they were. At least the town was saved, right?

“Dean...” Castiel was repeating his name over and over again, like some twisted mantra. It sent chills down Dean’s spine that he couldn’t shake off, but he couldn’t leave Castiel like this.

Castiel groaned and growled in the angel trap, “Dean…” he took a deep, unsettling breath, “...come here.”

Dean stared wearily at the storage room door.

“Come. Here.”

“No, Cas. You’re going to wait this out. Rowena’s on her way.”

“Can’t. I can’t do it.”

“Yes you can.” He said firmly, but Castiel looked a mess. He wished Rowena would hurry the hell up.

“Dean...” he sputtered, “I want you.”

Dean tried to block him out.

“I want you so bad. I want you on this floor… beneath me… writhing.”

“Stop.”

“I want… to take you apart, Dean...” he rasped, “I want to feel you melt...”

Dean couldn’t hide the look of alarm on his face. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Cas. This isn’t you.”

“Come to me.” Castiel commanded.

“No. Not happening.”

“Dean!”

His shout shook Dean embarrassingly deep. He closed his eyes. He hated himself for doing this to Cas. If he could help him, he would, but he couldn’t do this. Not this. Not with Cas. It was tearing him up inside.

Castiel groaned. The sound was borderline erotic, and it woke a tiny voice in Dean’s head that reminded him quite plainly: you’ve thought about it. You’ve thought about that noise... at the back of your neck. Dean immediately shut the voice down and berated himself for it, but he couldn’t block out Castiel’s voice.

“I want you, Dean...” He growled, “I’ve always… wanted you. I pulled you… from perdition. I made you mine. Come here… and let me make you mine. Let me claim you… again…”

“Enough.” Dean’s voice shook. His gaze was fierce, but it hid something weak and uncertain.

“Dean...” Castiel was unrelenting, “Let me… let me fuck you.”

Dean had never heard Castiel talk like that. He stared at him hard.

“I need it.”

Castiel was radiating angelic power from inside the trap. It should have been enough to keep Dean away, but like it or not, it only made enticed him more. Dean closed his eyes resolutely.

“Dean,” Castiel breathed, “come here.”

It was moments like these when Dean’s rational failed him. People often considered it one of his strengths; He never felt nervous before a fight, he never worried about the plan, his thoughts just stopped, allowing him to charge head first into danger. But in this situation, it wasn’t a strength at all. Dean’s thinking had completely abandoned him, leaving him only able to consider the unthinkable. He glanced at the metal storage door, visualizing Sam outside waiting for Rowena.

“Dean...”

Dean opened his eyes. He didn’t remember telling himself to get up, but the next thing he knew he was crouched outside the angel trap, staring at Castiel.

Castiel’s blue eyes were dark with promise. His breath was heavy, falling off his lips in pants. It sounded like it was right in Dean’s ear.

In a moment of weakness, Dean moved into the trap.

For a moment nothing happened, but then Castiel lunged. He sprung on Dean like a wild animal, pinning him to the floor with inhuman strength. Dean gasped and, like a spark of ignition, his instincts kicked in. He thrashed, struggling for some control at least, but it was useless. Castiel held him to the floor with one hand on his collarbone, the other crushing Dean’s bicep. He was beyond reasoning, and Dean wasn’t going anywhere.

“Sh...” Castiel hushed him, although it sounded more like a growl.

Dean tried to relax, he really did, but now that his adrenaline was pumping, he only knew how to fight.

Castiel ignored his struggles completely and ripped Dean’s pants down with ease, although he fumbled a little getting them around his boots. In another lifetime, Dean might have laughed. But he suddenly found himself naked from the hips down and didn’t feel much like laughing.

“Cas!” Dean breathed, only to be shoved back onto the cold, concrete floor.

Dean knew it before he saw it: he was completely erect. A part of him was mortified, but Castiel didn’t seem to notice or care. Dean cursed his own twisted sex drive while Castiel made quick work of his own pants. Then he grabbed Dean by the thighs dragged him across the trap.

Dean knew what he was getting himself into, but it was still a shock to see Castiel’s cock so suddenly between his thigh. He was… thick. Dean swallowed. This was going to hurt like a bitch. What the hell was he thinking? But then Castiel laid a hand on Dean’s forehead and he felt a curious sensation work its way down his pelvis and into his groin. Dean realized what Castiel had done the minute he tried to squirm away. He couldn’t flex anything between his hips and his thighs. Castiel had shut off Dean’s muscle control, making him completely lose and pliable. And lubed from feel of it. Dean felt a rush of panic that was strangely erotic. Sure, he’d tampered with bondage before, but this was a whole other level. Castiel seemed to have done for his sake rather than Dean’s, but Dean didn’t care. He was embarrassingly, impossibly more erect.

“Cas...” Dean sputtered, his nerves finally getting the best of him.

Castiel was unresponsive. He reaffirmed his hold on Dean, then flipped him over. Dean groaned outright. He couldn’t help it. The objectification got to him, and it sent a flare of arousal straight to his groin. He knew what was coming next. Sure enough, he felt Castiel climb on top of him, grappling him brutally to the ground.

Castiel said Dean’s name again, like he was making sure it was still him beneath him. Dean didn’t get a chance to think about it, because in the next second Castiel’s thick cock was parting his ass without warning.

Dean groaned through his teeth and clenched down, but the muscles surrounding Castiel’s cock didn’t respond. Dean had never felt so violated. Castiel slid it without any resistance, spreading Dean further apart with every inch of his throbbing cock. Dean nearly hyperventilated. It was the most intense sensation he’d ever felt. He couldn’t take it. He thrashed in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure, but Castiel just grappled him even more effectively. Dean could feel his hungry breath beating against the back of his neck and Dean moaned. He actually moaned. A rush of fear paralyzed him. Sam was just outside. But it was so hard to keep quiet with Castiel filling Dean to the brim. And when he began fucking him without any reprieve, Dean shoved a fist into his mouth to keep from shouting.

Castiel fucked Dean into the concrete floor like an animal, making him shout and moan into his fist. He could barely breathe. No matter how he writhed or twisted, he couldn’t do anything about the cock fucking him raw and hard. He couldn’t even reach down to touch himself, and he could tell Castiel wasn’t thinking about that. He was groaning in satisfaction. The sound was incredible. Castiel may not have been in his right mind, that groan… that groan was all Cas.

As he passionately, carelessly hard his way with Dean, Dean finally began to submit. It was almost out of necessity. The sensations were beginning to feel way more good than painful, and Dean couldn’t handle it. Every thrust made his skin light up, and the way Castiel was dragging his cock up and down his walls made Dean want to die from pleasure. He slammed his fist on the floor, looking in completely agony, but he’d never felt anything so good in his life. He cursed himself for it, but at the same time he needed more.

He tried to shimmy out of Castiel’s grip so he could hump the floor, but Castiel didn’t let him. He pinned his free arm behind his back, forcing his chest to the floor, and pounded his ass with his hips. A shout died in Dean’s throat. The angle changing everything. Castiel was assaulting his prostate and Dean couldn’t buffer the sensation without use of his pelvic muscles. Dean was gone in seconds. He gasped and sputtered uselessly, helpless to stop the orgasm from being fucked out of him. Dean moaned and keened on the floor, screwing up his expression. He came harder than he’d ever done in his life. The sensation seeped into his every nerve and, being unable to clench, it reverberated like a shock-wave, endless and severe, through every inch of his body. Dean was lost in pleasure.

Castiel didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. Dean’s ecstasy soon inverted, and Castiel began overstimulating him to the point of tears. Dean couldn’t even move now with his arm trapped behind his back. He wanted to thrash and break free, and yet, he was grateful he couldn’t. He was grateful that he had no choice to lay belly down and endure. It was his deepest, darkest fantasy. He groaned Castiel’s name as his knees and chest repeatedly scuffed the floor.

Castiel heard him that time. He reached down to the floor and grabbed Dean’s cock. Dean’s lurched, but couldn’t move. His head spin in submissive pleasure. Castiel’s hand glowed and Dean was suddenly on the verge of orgasm again. It shocked him and he moaned in surprise. It built up painfully slow, then burst in a fresh wave of ecstasy. Dean moaned shamelessly. Castiel reached down and squeezed Dean’s balls possessively, and it sent Dean even higher into ecstasy. He bucked his hips and pounded the floor as Castiel squeezed the cum out of his balls. Dean had to stop himself from shouting encouragements loud enough for the whole town to here.

Just as Dean thought he couldn’t possibly take any more, he felt Castiel shudder to a halt and drive his cock impossibly deeper. Castiel came with a feral groan and Dean’s grace orgasm finally stopped. Castiel grabbed his hips like reigns and fucked his orgasm into Dean’s ass.

He could barely see straight, but Dean chanced a glance over his shoulder. He had to know. When he saw Castiel coming, his heart flew up into his throat. He looked wild and undone. His lips were parted in a silent moan and his eyes were fluttered closed. He was sweating and glistening with grace. His tie was swept over his shoulder and he’d removed his coat at some point. His white collared shirt was sticking to his chest. Dean dropped his head on the floor and focused on not passing out.

Castiel’s orgasm felt prolonged. Maybe it was the magic, maybe it was just how angels came. Dean had no clue. He just lay there, aching and throbbing in both bliss and exhaustion, somewhere on the verge of consciousness.

Finally, he felt Castiel finish. He was sure of it, because not a second later Castiel collapsed on Dean’s back. It winded him, but Dean was still strong enough to not be crushed. Castiel was panting slowly now, and Dean was suddenly confronted with a new fear: if Castiel passed out, Dean wouldn’t be able to move. His only saving grace would be in Sam and Rowena walked in. Except… yeah, Castiel’s dick was still in his ass.

Luckily, Castiel came to quickly. He pulled out and got off of Dean, leaving Dean feeling winded and oddly empty. Between Castiel’s heavy breaths and pants, he heard a zip. If Castiel had enough presence of mind to cloth himself, Dean wondered if he was back to normal. Dean glanced sideways at him, barely seeing him. He still looked feral, but there was more intent to his gaze. His eyes weren’t glowing, either. Dean felt Castiel grab him and turn him on his back. Dean felt like he was made of cement. Castiel looked around and found his jeans and boots.

Dean dressed himself, deciding he needed to maintain what little dignity he had left. He sat up and winced. Everything ached. Castiel wasn’t speaking, and Dean was grateful. He didn’t think he was stable enough to respond. He got dressed lamely and collapsed on the ground again.

“Dean...”

Dean looked at him. He knew that voice. It was Castiel. The Castiel. Or most of him, anyway.

“Yeah.” Dean breathed.

Castiel didn’t respond. So they sat there, panting and half staring at one another.

“Cas...”

“Yeah.”

“Can you… I think I’m uh...” Dean shifted a little. He was definitely bleeding.

Castiel understood and reached over to Dean’s thigh. Dean felt his muscles return to normal and pain leave him. Dean felt weirdly heavier. He felt the cum seeping out of his ass disappear, too. His jeans were probably stained, though.

“Thanks.”

Castiel nodded numbly.

“What happened?” Castiel mumbled.

Dean sighed. He filled him in, but he found he wasn’t capable of much detail. The first pangs of guilt and humiliation were getting in the way, but Castiel seemed to recall it anyway. After a moment of quiet recollection, he tried speaking. Dean knew what he was going to say. Castiel had that sad look, and it made Dean’s heart flutter.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said brusquely, “You healed me. We’re good.”

Castiel stared at him hesitantly.

“Cas. I made that decision. Not you. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.”

“I forgive you.” Castiel said in confusion.

“Great. Now c’mon, let’s get Sam and get out of dodge.”

Neither of them even tried explaining how Castiel had beaten the curse on his own. Sam eventually gave up and assumed it was because Castiel was an angel.

Rowena called bullshit. She arrived not ten minutes later and questioned all three of them about it. Luckily only Dean and Castiel had any real grasp of what the spell was, and they both feigned ignorance. Dean had a creeping suspicion that Rowena knew exactly what had happened, but she kept her lips pursed.

Dean was more concerned with what it was going to be like with Castiel. The ride home was quiet, but Sam was in the car after-all. At the bunker, Castiel was awkward and oblivious, but that was nothing new. A couple times, Dean caught himself considering telling Castiel the truth: that it had been the best sex of his life.

Dean turned in early. Sam didn’t say a word. He was too tired to keep asking the same questions over and over again. Dean was grateful.

That night, as Dean tossed and turned replaying the scene in his mind, he heard his door open. He ignored it, feigning deep sleep, until he felt a weight on his bed. Castiel’s breath was at his neck again. Dean glanced over his shoulder and didn’t say anything. Castiel slid his arms around Dean’s chest and buried his head in the crook of his neck. The guilt and humiliation that had accompanied him since the storage room gradually faded, replaced by Castiel’s gentle breathing and the warmth of his bare skin. Dean relented and closed his eyes.

“Come here,” he sighed, pulling Castiel close.

Never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d be cuddling Castiel in his bed, but it felt too good to question. He felt Castiel relax in relief, and Dean couldn’t help but indulge that voice of his. He fell asleep in Castiel’s arms, dreaming for the first time in a long while.

[vampirefreakism]

The Scientist (Chapter 26)

Summary: In the events following Asgard’s destruction, Loki finds himself on Earth seeking refuge to await the inevitable. Much to his surprise, it comes from a source he would never have expected.

AO3 Link

The Soundtrack So Far

Warnings: some fluff, some tension, idk ice? cold stuff?

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Tell me something: why do I have to make these chapters so long? Why can't I be a more normal writer and release chapters that are, at most, 2k words in length? At this rate, I'll be 250k+ words before I'm done and omfg that's an "at least" prediction. Anywho, I'm seeing Captain Marvel tomorrow, and I am so excited. My soul might leave my body and transcend into the next dimension all from my love for women. Hell to the yeah, folks.

Masterlist

----------

The voice of the newscaster resounded about the shared apartment, holding the attention of one Norse god. His human companion sat near him, on the floor, still in the process of fixing his damaged armored suit. The rips and tears littering it were all stitched up using various techniques, and the scuffs and stains all distant memories. The boots and shoulder pieces, however, were a challenge. They were not ripped but scraped and frayed. Such damage to hard material could not be sewn back together or scrubbed clean with soap, water, and alcohol.

Luna grabbed a few extra items from her room – quick-dry epoxy, a scrap piece of cardboard, and a flat stick – she believed would work in laying down and repairing the tattered areas. Loki kept a watchful eye on her, as he always did when she handled his close personal belongings. She didn’t mind. It was the one time she meddled in the things she hadn’t bought him, so as per common decency, she handled them in front of him.

“You think that’ll work?” Loki chimed, his green gaze set on the woman seated on the floor.

She lifted her eyes to meet his. “In fixing it? I sure hope so.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“I just keep trying different things until I feel like giving up.” Luna returned her attention to the shoulder piece.

She smoothed the clear epoxy mix firmly and carefully till it was too tacky to continue. Slowly, she switched to the other side. The layers made it tricky, but she had all evening if she didn’t want to leave the house. Loki was satisfied for the moment, the fridge was stocked with enough leftovers to last them the weekend, and, in case they were plagued by unwanted sleepless nights or the occasional dark emotion, the freezer had plenty of ice cream pints.

Loki stuck to his program. The subject matter interested him in a way Luna could not fathom. To each his own, she reminded herself. If he didn’t attempt to create unrest under her roof, he could do as he liked. She liked the peace in her home too much to let someone else disturb it. It seemed he liked it as well and took steps on his own to ensure it.

Satisfied with the job she had done, Luna slowly got up, suit top in hand, and walked it to the empty chairs by the counter. She set it down on one, resting the undried epoxy patches away from any surface. She dusted her hands. Another job well-done, if she said so herself.

Upon returning from putting her supplies back where they came from, Loki called her attention.

“Tell me, who is that?” He pointed to the television playing a local news station, in particular at the figure the story was about.

“Him?” Luna confirmed. “That’s our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

“Oh, I know that but who is he exactly? Beneath the mask?” Loki was a tad perturbed.

Luna shrugged and lied. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t think anyone does.”

“They trust a hero they cannot see? Odd concept.” The master of lies believed her. Another victory of the day.

“I'm sure people are skeptical, but he's never done anything malicious, and he helps out the little guy. You know, the underappreciated.” A little slice of truth for him.

“Huh. I suppose he is appealing.” Loki crossed his arms and observed the individual clad in red and blue. “Is he an Avenger?”

Luna chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, no. No, he is not. Good thing, too.”

“How come? He seems capable enough.” Luna paused.

“Because, uh, he, uh, that’s his job. You know, he’s more of a freelance vigilante than one tied to an organization like the Avengers.” She could see the look on Loki’s face. He didn’t believe her for a second. “You know, I don’t really know. You know I mainly keep to myself, so any newbies go right under my nose.” She waved a hand in the air.

“Mm-hm.” Loki eyed her, not sounding convinced, but he didn’t need to be yet. Luna feigned ignorance well enough.

The pair watched the rest of the program with Luna now perched atop the couch arm. She was at a loss for what to fill the rest of her afternoon and evening with. The oncoming snow storm looked to be getting worse each day it didn't show. There was residual fear of being snowed in, or at least cautioned to not venture outside. Shopping needed to be done, and additional activities had to be seen to, for either of the apartment occupants could easily succumb to cabin fever. Loki was a patient fellow and didn’t show his restlessness easily, but he hated being cooped up as much as Luna did.

An idea popped into her head, making Luna snap her fingers. “Hey, after we do some shopping, how about we do something?”

“What kind of something?”

“A fun something, at least before it snows. Like, uh,” she tapped her lower lip, “ooh! Like ice skating! If we go now, we can make it before there are too many people.”

“Ice skating?” Loki was perplexed. “Where would we be going?”

"Rockefeller Center," Luna said as she scurried to her room. “It's stunning this time of year." She called out. She shuffled back into the living room, phone in hand. “Ok, I can reserve some tickets online. So, yes or no?”

“This place is not in Manhattan…is it?” Loki asked tentatively.

Luna paused. “Yeah, but you’ll be fine. It’ll be fine,” she said quickly, waving a hand around. “Come on, let’s get ready. We need to at least get you a coat before we’re snowed in for a week.”

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

“You know, I don’t even really need the coat. My jacket is enough,” Loki said, grabbing cradling his rental skates. The new garment reminded him a bit too much of his Stuttgart outfit, and it was wholly disconcerting.

Luna picked up her pair after him. “I am aware, Mr. The-Cold-Never-Bothered-Me-Anyway, but it is about 30 degrees out and getting colder, and since we’re going to be around a lot of people, you not wearing a coat would be cause for alarm.” She hastened over to a free bench and sat down. Loki followed suit and took his place by her side.

He watched as she pulled her boots off, stretched a foot out, and force it into the bladed skating boot. She repeated the action with her other foot and laced them up with practiced precision. Loki looked at his own and copied her to the best of his ability. The crisscross of the laces he was able to get, but their desired tightness proved more difficult.

Luna had tested her laces a few times – loosening them, retying them, standing up, and repeated the procedure – before Loki first finishing his. Luna stood upright and firm as though she were on the flats of her feet, not balanced on the edges of twin blades. She shifted her weight from left to right and felt satisfied. Loki mimicked her, but he did not feel the same.

With a stumble, he sat down and roughly undid his laces. Luna, noticing his agitated state, sat back in her spot.

“Aren’t you supposed to be an expert with the blade?” She joked, hoping to dissipate some of Loki’s frustration.

“Yes, in wielding them. Not wearing them.” He quipped back with an evident edge in his voice.

Luna knocked the edge of her boot against his. “You can wield these too. They can cause some serious damage if they’re sharp enough. I’ve pricked myself on my own skates more times than I can count when I was younger.”

Loki fiddled with the stray lace. “You did this a lot?”

“Oh, yes. I used to be quite the figure skater.” Luna smiled, recalling the memories from her youth.

“Figure skater?” Loki pondered, knitting his brows. None of his investigative endeavors have yet provided an inkling of this kind of information. He was curious.

“It’s like ballet, but on the ice.” Luna glanced down at Loki’s still-undone boots. “Here, let me do that for you.” She twisted around to straddle the bench they sat on and spun her hand around, gesturing for Loki to do the same. He did as she asked and faced her full-on.

Wishing to get on with the task, Luna gave Loki’s left leg two firm pats for him to lift it. She had to scoot back once he stretched it out. It was easy to forget how long he was. She maneuvered his foot into a proper resting position and got to work, loosening and retightening his shoe.

Loki felt the tap-tap of her fingers through the thick material, but her light touch barely preoccupied his thoughts. It was clear he did not know everything about her and his snooping could only take him so far. He wondered how much her Avengers knew. If they knew more than him. He felt jealousy grow at the prospect of missing out. However inconsequential it may be, Loki loved being the first in the know about everything.

Tentatively, he continued the conversation. “You miss it?”

Luna looked up from her task. “Hmm?” With his head, Loki gestured to the skate in her hand. “Oh. Uh, yeah.” She nodded, a little despondent. “I almost completed my training when I had to stop.”

“What made you? Stop, I mean.”

“School.” She jerked his foot a bit as she fastened the laces around the metal loops. “I had to choose between spending my time practicing triple axels and working on homework and, well,” she chuckled, “my three science degrees should be enough to tell you what my decision was.” A few more tugs and a knotted bow finished the job. “Alright, circle your foot around. You want it to feel firm on the joint, but not painfully so.” Slowly, Loki lifted his foot and rotated it clockwise, switching directions once he felt satisfied. “How is it?” Luna asked.

“It’s good,” Loki muttered.

“Good,” Luna echoed, smiling lazily and placing a hand on his opposite knee. “Now for the next one.”

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

Loki, gripping the edge of the rink wall, stood as static as his body would allow. “So how on earth do you move with these?” He was capable on the ice, but the kind he has experienced in the past was always blanketed with a thin layer of snow. The surface beneath him now beheld no such traction.

Before him, Luna kept a watchful eye on his posture. “You just, you know, stand. Like this.” She presented her feet, the blades positioned in a small V. “And push with the edge.” Her foot facing away propelled her forward to Loki’s side.

“I've been doing that, and it's not working.”

“That’s because you’re treating it like you’re walking.”

“Oh, you make it sound so easy.” Loki sneered a little.

Luna let out a low groan and moved backward to stand face-to-face with him. "Pretend you’re dancing. Feel the ice beneath you and use it. Follow it as you would a partner. And, if you want,” she held her gloved hands out, “I can help lead you.”

Loki kept watch of her open hands as he slowly extended one of his towards them. Settling a firm grasp on the one he held, he let the other follow. “Don’t worry, I got you,” Luna sent him a sweet smile, careful not to lose her grip on him. Loki presented himself as calm. He had captured the attention of the right person and, though he loved attention, was intent on not drawing more.

“Now, stand up a little straighter and push gently.” Loki did as he was told and pushed with the blade at an angle. Luna glided backward, guiding him steadily over the shallow divots in the ice. “And again. And again. See?” With a pivot of her foot, she swiveled to stand beside Loki, still holding onto the hand furthest from the wall. “Not so hard.”

Loki looked down at her, smirking a little, and nudged her. “Well, I have an excellent teacher.”

Luna giggled and bumped him back. “Hey, don’t jinx it just yet. The last time these skates were sharpened was probably during the time of Lewis and Clark, and this ice is already pretty cut, so it’s very easy to trip on.” A glance down confirmed her feet to be at a safe distance from Loki’s. “Fresh, smooth ice is like heaven to be on, but you probably know that already.”

Loki hummed in response. He had an idea of how it would be. Being on the ice at this moment was pleasant. In tandem, they skated in silence, staying close to the wall for safety but far enough away to let other struggling patrons cling to it.

The cold crept up on Loki, quickly and quietly. It didn’t hurt him like it would a human, but he knew it was there. The air alone took less from him than if he came into contact with the ice itself. One touch from his bare hand may expose him. He wasn’t willing to take the risk. Not in a crowded area filled with people whose lives he had directly affected. He was lucky to be holding the hand of someone with a giving and forgiving heart. The couples and families around him would not grant him as much grace, no matter what pretty lies he may spin.

His eyes strayed from the people in front of him to the decorations above and around him. The settling darkness in the sky enhanced the brightness of the colored lights. The ice reflected them, making it seem like he was floating above a white sea of rainbow stars. The Christmas tree stood high above them, a beacon of glad tidings during a happy season. A sweetness settled within Loki’s heart, but it did not come without a thin lining of bitterness.

“Answer me something,” he asked Luna.

“Okay,” she replied, keeping her voice hushed.

Loki paused, feeling the words circle about, and spoke. “Was this place destroyed?”

“When?” Luna knew what he was referring to, but she had to make sure.

“During…,” Loki looked down, “my first visit.”

“Probably,” she stated, “but look how nice it is right now.”

Loki didn’t bother. Visions of destruction plagued his mind, obscuring his view. He enjoyed the place and his present company. Thinking of it no longer existing didn’t sit well with him.

Luna sensed the storm brewing inside him and squeezed his hand. “Don’t dwell on it.”

“Why not? It’s my wrongdoing.”

“Because it doesn’t do any good. Dwelling never fixes anything.”

Loki blinked and looked down at the crown of Luna’s head as he regarded her statement. The first time she had confronted any issue regarding his past, and it was over and done with before he could spare any additional words. And how nonchalant she was about it. Loki was almost convinced she had forgotten about the incident or never heard of it. No, she was worlds smarter than that. Loki was the one who forgot and took her for granted. She was as merciful as she was gracious.

Yes, dwelling doesn’t fix anything. He would follow her example and brush it off for a time when it is a problem, for it wasn’t now.

Carefully, Loki changed the subject. “You know, many centuries ago, people used these as a method of transportation.”

Luna peered up at him, eager to know the context with which he spoke. A tilt of his head towards the ground gave her what she needed to continue.

“And you traveled with them, I suppose?”

Loki snickered. “Heavens, no. That was well before my time, around the era of my grandfather Bor’s rule.”

“Did you know him?”

He paused. “Also before my time.”

“I never knew my grandfathers either. One died of cancer; the other, a stroke.” Luna caught herself. It was early enough to stop. “Sorry. You didn’t need to know that.”

Alas, more information Loki couldn’t find in her diaries. “What do you know about them?” He had to know more.

“Well,” Luna assembled her words, “I know I would have liked one more than the other. But isn’t that how it is with all family?”

Loki let out a laugh. “How right you are.” Memories of times passed surfaced here and there in his thoughts. Yes, how right she was. If she only knew how much.

Unabashedly, as his gaze fell elsewhere, Luna admired him. She had gotten him to smile out of genuine amusement. And his laugh. A reward in and of itself. ‘Tamed the beast,’ an onlooker might say. But such a statement couldn’t be farther from the truth. He was no beast.

The two skated further around the rink, passing straggling children trying to stay on two feet and teens doing their best not to get too rowdy. No one bothered to notice them. Glances were spared only to prevent any unnecessary collisions. They spoke naught for they felt no need to. The peace they achieved at home had extended out past the threshold. To say the least, it was nice. Others could do the chattering in their place. Until, of course, one decided to take the reins.

“So, is it true?” Luna asked, a slight smirk making its way onto her face.

“Is what true?” Loki asked back, not bothering to look away from the ice before him.

“About Sleipnir?”

Confusion passed over Loki, as such a thing had not crossed his mind in many a moon. But, he caught on to what she meant and snickered lightly. “Dear, no. He was real, yes, but he was another being from before me. I took a liking to the creature while in my youth and most people mocked me for it, aptly calling me his ‘mother.’”

Luna smiled at the sentiment. “That’s nice you gave him company, though. How beautiful he must have been.”

“Quite so. A magnificent animal. Odin didn’t appreciate him properly, but then again, he rarely did with anything." Rather than get into another tense topic, Loki dispelled any increasing strain. “However, perhaps in another universe, he would have been my true son.”

Luna paused and tittered a little. “Yeah, and you would have vibrant red hair and a whole wife.”

“My goodness, just imagine!” Loki bolstered, pulling a laugh from her.

Moments like these granted him a precious second to admire the beauty of his young friend. Could he call her ‘friend?’ As he thought on how delightfully warm he found her smile, he found himself treading back into dangerous territory. Friends, in his experience, were never around for long and he was so blinded by the wishful thinking he couldn't catch their lies until it was too late for his heart. Maybe they did like him, but they never preferred him. Then again, they were not her. None from his past were like her, and perhaps it would be alright for him. But, for now, only the Norns could tell.

Before long, announcements were made for all active skaters to vacate the rink for the Zamboni to makes its rounds. Luna and Loki took their sweet time, unlike a select few who thought it would be fun to race to the exit. The loud, rapid scraping of their blades alerted those around to their oncoming presence; a presence Luna did not keep track of.

Heads were turned, and gazes averted. The instance spelled disaster. Luckily, Loki possessed a distinct taste for it. He felt the moment coming a breath before anyone else did. One individual was going too fast, got bumped by a friend, and was careening towards the spot Luna was gliding towards. With a rough yank, Loki took hold of her and moved her out of the stranger’s path. He held her tight against the wall to prevent her from slipping and rendering his efforts naught. The stranger recovered quickly, threw them an apology, and continued on their way.

The two stood for a spell; Loki’s arms around her torso and Luna’s hands gripping his coat’s collar. Slowly and steadily, he leaned back.

“Are you alright?” He asked, a bit breathless.

“Uh-huh, yeah.” Luna moved her hands to the sides of his shoulders. “Thanks,” she whispered. He was closer than usual. Not something she was used to.

“Of course,” he whispered back as he stared into her eyes. They were full and dark from the night sky, shining in the lights from above. Again, they captured him. Inconveniently, at best, but it couldn’t be helped.

Time caught up, and Luna slid her hands down to his biceps with the sole purpose of gently pushing him off, but one touch and she stopped. The words of May Parker surfaced in her mind. Loki was indeed firm and strong by the way he held her. She knew so from her first dance with him but feeling him again like this was a whole other matter. Coupled with the intenseness of his gaze, he made her feel hot under the collar. A completely involuntary reaction. It couldn’t be helped.

Dragging herself back into reality, Luna gave his arm a tap. “We, uh, we should get going before we’re forcibly removed.”

“Oh, yes,” Loki muttered, pulling back and standing at his full height. He gestured to the ice in front of them on the path to the gate. Ever the gentleman, he allowed Luna to go first if she wished. Eager to escape the awkward situation, she took the invitation and skated off with Loki trailing behind her.

In the sitting area, they sipped on individual hot chocolates and let their minds scramble in different directions. No thought led gracefully to another. The abruptness of their proximity left no room for control. They faked it well, though. Luna gradually regained it by tapping out the beat to a song playing over the speakers.

The first thing she consciously felt was comfortable. A bit rattled from the experience, but not wishing she could get away from Loki. She didn't have to try with him, in the best way. She'd admit it was scary, for it might be too good to be true. She wondered how he was in his past. If anyone else felt like this around him. Perhaps they did. Maybe it was none of her business. No harm in imagining, though.

“You must have had a lot of friends on Asgard,” she said, snapping Loki out of whatever musing he was in.

He turned the cup around in his hand. “Why would you think something like that?”

“Because it takes no energy to hang out with you.”

Loki creased his brow. “Thank…you?” In all his years, never had he heard something like that.

Luna laughed, a little nervous. “No, no, it’s a good thing. It’s inviting, at least to people like me.” She fiddled with the plastic lid, trusting he could see what she meant. The growing grin on his face gave her a hint of what he felt.

“Well, for your sake,” he held up his half-empty cup, “I’m glad,” and tapped it gently against hers.

Cheers to someone who preferred his company. Cheers to someone he liked to be around. Cheers to his beautiful friend named after the moon.

----------

Taglist:  @the-doctor-9-10 @pinkieperil @sherlockfan4life

[dcarevu]

Batman TAS: Heart of Steel (Part 2)

“I do wish your toys wouldn’t play so roughly with you, Sir.”

Episode: 39 Robin: No Writer: Brynne Stephens (Brynne Chandler) Director: Kevin Altieri Animator: Sunrise Airdate: November 16, 1992 Grade: A

Picking up where we left off, and things don’t appear to be off to a stellar start. Batman escaping the grabber that is installed incredibly high up on the cave ceiling seems anti-climactic. Because after that, HARDAC just gives up. Batman starts to track its location, and it disconnects from his system, ending the moment. What the hell, HARDAC. Didn’t you just have control over everything? You couldn’t have locked Batman out entirely and prevented him from even getting that far? Luckily this segment ends with a pretty funny callback to Part 1 from Alfred, and from here things are awesome the entire way. I think that the cliffhanger last time was only there to be a cliffhanger and get ratings for Part 2. I guarantee it was an afterthought. But whatever, it’s out of the way, now let’s get to the good stuff!

The previous episode was used to set a lot of things up. It had some good moments, but they held off from showing us the major excitement. This episode flies by, and it feels like nonstop action with some of the best imagery we have yet to see. I’m so happy with how well they nailed the designs of a lot of these robots, and the concept was taken to its max potential. I love the way that the robots (disguised as people such as Bullock, Gordon, Mayor Hill, etc) move around, sometimes walking and talking just like you and me, but other times they leap and scuttle in a way that almost resembles the way the little girl moves in The Exorcist or like the girl from The Grudge. Paired with their glares and those piercing eyes, and it’s easily as creepy as anything on Courage the Cowardly Dog. The most disturbing moment is when one of the robots twists its head all over the place and then follows Batman up the elevator cable. It’s a moment of tension because we know the bot will grab Batman if he doesn’t hurry the hell up and solder through it. It’s a similar feeling to being followed and trying to quickly unlock a door. After Batman solders through, the elevator falls many floors and completely demolishes the robots that were onboard, and we get to see their mangled carcasses. Like with Captain Clown from The Last Laugh, robots give the writers a lot of fun opportunities for violence that is not typically permitted. There’s an earlier scene where a robotic Bullock is thrown onto the Bat-Signal where it gets electrocuted. We see a charge running through it, its hand twitches, and it loses its skin-like shell. Seeing how willing Batman was to deliver this type of punishment to Bullock was a little bit concerning, and we even see Barbara start to cry during the aftermath before they realize that it’s not really Bullock. Beautiful stuff!

During the climax we get a lot of this type of thing all shoved together into one scene. There are explosions galore (I sorta gave up on the fire count that we had going, but if I hadn’t, you’d better believe that this episode would count toward it), some twisted imagery in the form of seeing Bullock and Gordon suspended in a tank of water for observation, and Randa gets part of her face ripped off, revealing a metal skull underneath. It makes Batman jump in fear as he turns around and sees her. While one of Batman’s major talents is scaring the piss out of the criminals he fights, as we know from Scarecrow episodes, he himself is not immune to fear. It’s nice to see him expressing this emotion without the use of mysterious gas.

HARDAC’s motives were fleshed out a lot more, and they are a little cliché. Replacing all humans, eliminating man-made flaws, allowing the world to run smoother, yada yadda. We’ve heard this before. What I find more interesting is Karl Rossum’s role in all of this. What I gathered was that Rossum designed HARDAC to replace certain human-operated functions with robot-operated functions. For example, self-driving cars. He had a daughter that died in a car accident, and so he vowed to rid the world of the possibility of this happening to anyone else. Because he…for some reason…gave HARDAC a free-thinking mind, HARDAC decided to take this plan much further than intended, considering all humans a problem period. They’re too imperfect. Ironic, given HARDAC’s quick downfall, but hey, this is the 90’s. Technology has a long way to go. Anyway, Rossum’s motives are pretty vague, though, so I could be interpreting this wrong, but I like that there are a couple of ways to take it. I can see someone else going more literal and imagining that he wanted to replace drivers with robots, or even some of the more problematic citizens. Who knows. Interestingly, in Part 1, we see Randa using a self-driving car, which I just now remembered. I thought I remembered something too about Randa being modeled after his daughter, but they never mentioned this. Head-canon I guess. I have to ask, is Rossum innocent? He doesn’t seem to be in much trouble at the end, but we have no way of knowing how far he was going with this plan. Yeah, HARDAC went further, but that doesn’t mean that Rossum wasn’t trying to go further than most sane people would, you know? I have a feeling that we’ll never see him again and won’t have to worry about it, but Batman the Animated Series has this way of surprising me.

Barbara Gordon gets more time this half hour, and she’s so rad! Her voice actress (Melissa Gilbert) plays her so well, and combined with the lines, she sounds like she’s incredibly intelligent. How love how she talks to her stuffed bear when she’s by herself, but what she talks about is how she plans on breaking into Cybertron to rescue her father. It combines cute with badass and capable, and she seems to be a strong female role model that any kid could look up to. Not to say that I condone putting yourself into the kind of danger that she did, but hey. You know what I mean. Last episode she may have been an extension of Jim. This episode she broke out of that and felt like something entirely her own. You already know that I know, but for those who don’t know what’s coming (Char), hopefully we’ll see lots more of Barbara! She did mention how much she enjoyed getting in on the action, and Batman told her that she did an excellent job. If that doesn’t sound like a recurring character, I don’t know what does!

I don’t have too-too much more to say, but this episode was way better than I remember. So far, it may even be top ten material. Char loved it too. She said that she was happy that no one died in the end, but jesus, when Possum was fried by HARDAC’s laser, I thought he was going to be left a pile of ash. Never program a super-powerful, free-thinking computer to have weapons like that… You give it a will to be free and a way, what could go wrong?

Get a load of Gordon’s tall mustache. 

Some of the animation in this one reminds me of The Tick. It’s the line work as well as the eyes. I couldn’t find any info on who did the animation for The Tick, but could it have been Sunrise?

Jesus, he’s not dead? The intensity of HARDAC’s laser blast was shocking, and it looked soooo violent.

I keep seeing a smiley face on HARDAC’s light/eye/whatever. On purpose?

Basically what I see when I go to the dentist. What creepy lighting! I like how intimate this segment was.

It must be so therapeutic for Batman to get to beat the shit out of the fake Bullock, especially after this shit-eating grin. What a great face!

Bullock’s twitching hand was super gross. Anyone else agree that this is Sunrise’s best work on the show?

This robot almost looks zombie-like, which is fitting considering Bullock’s apparent demise. 

What happened to the batarangs, Batman? 

Even when dead, those red eyes stare in such a malicious way.

“Please let go of my cape.”

Is there any reason that these guy need to have light-up eyes like this? No! HARDAC clearly installed them just for the “Holy shit, what the hell is going on” factor. 

Yes, HARDAC, humans are so imperfect. Meanwhile one of your friends lets Bruce slip away like this. 

KILL IT. KILL IT. KILL IT. 

THANK YOU. 

These trashcan robots very much look like the robots from Castle in the Sky. 

Seeing them in this kind of danger is quite disturbing. As is the fact that a computer is keeping humans contained like this. 

Up until now, we’ve only seen Randa as a drop-dead gorgeous woman. We saw the twist coming, yet it’s still quite the surprise!

A really stupid moment in an otherwise amazing half hour. A makeup mirror deflecting a laser like that felt really implausible (yes, in the face of everything else), and it also seemed like a lame way to remind us that Barbara is, in fact, a woman. 

Batman panics as his head is about to be crushed by an elevator. Batman breaks a few times during Heart of Steel. He’s sure to experience some nightmares about computers.

Bob Hastings has a tremendously good moment as he calls out the name of Jim’s daughter, thinking she’s dead. 

Char’s grade: A Next time: If You’re So Smart, Why Aren’t You Rich?

Full episode list here!

[scripttorture]

In my story there are three organizations people can be assigned to after their death where they are provided with food and shelter but are required to do dangerous work, fight, maybe even kill, forbidden from interacting with the living and are generally publicly shamed if they do minor acts of rebellion. Should they try to run away or harm the leaders, they are usually killed on the spot. The same with any major rebellion of multiple people. I guessed they would loose a lot of people (1/?)

(cont) through this but I am not sure how many exactly, or if it's even realistic at all for some 'core members' to stay longer (100-600 years for who I have in mind) and what their behavior would be like? Would they try to convince others to stay with them? Would it be possible to keep them 'loyal' like this with the ongoing threat of murder and being hunted by all three organizations? Another question would be if I should include something like a 'punishment camp' (2/?)(cont.) which would be separate from the organizations and something that would be run 'together' by often changing volunteers who get special privileges in exchange for torturing the inmates who get send there. These inmates can come from all organizations (torturer and victim are never from the same) who have rebelled 'a little' and do not warrant murder yet. My idea is that they'd be sent there for a week to a month and tortured repeatedly through their time there. Would (3/?)(cont.) this, together with public shaming (scars left are visible and raised as consequence of being bad, filthy, improper or similar and thus mark the person for a long time) would it work to scare others in the organization? Would it work to manipulate at least a few of the (younger and more vulnerable) members who were victims of this? Or would it have the opposite effect? Would there even be any volunteers? Sorry for writing so much but I'm really stuck on this (4/4) 

I can understand why you feel stuck. And I can see why you’ve structuredthe story and world in this way. But if the goal is (as far as possible)obedience I think you’re focusing on the wrong things.

 It’s not that I think torture wouldn’t fit this setting and story exactly-it’s more that the way you’re currently planning to use it goes against theobedience you’re trying to enforce.

 Torture really isn’t an effective way to enforce discipline. That doesn’t mean people don’t try to useit this way. People try to use torture to achieve a lot of things it justisn’t capable of.

 Basically I think this is one of those premises where you’re going tohave to decide whether using torture so often is necessary for the story. Is the obedience or the abuse moreimportant to the story generally? Because the way I see it you can changethis scenario to create something that would encourage obedience to the point of committing atrocities or you can stick with what you have andaccept that there will be quite a lot of disobedience.

 I don’t see anything wrong with the scenario you’ve outlined: it doesn’tseem to be excusing or downplaying torture in any way. But it wouldn’t be‘effective’ in the way your bad guys want it to be.

 I think the most helpful thing I can do here is answer your questionsbased on the scenario you’ve outlined and thentry to outline what a scenario that encouraged obedience and group loyaltywould look like.

 Yes they would lose an awful lot of people. I’m not sure I can put afigure on how many exactly but my best guess (based on the rate of suicide andescape by enslaved people in Brazil) would be up to 1/3 every year. If you’repicturing everyone who has ever died in this scenario then a third of thepopulation every year builds up to impressive numbers pretty quickly.

 That said I do think you could realistically havepeople stay in these organisations in the long term. There are two main ways Ican see to play that: either by having the individual character want to stay or by having them believethat there’s no point trying to leave.

 People will often stay in awful situations when they believe that tryingto leave will make things worse. But it’s important not to treat this as onesettled decision. It’s a state of flux. Characters who are motivated in thisway would be likely to leave orrebel, they’re just waiting for the moment when they think they’ll have thebest chance of doing it successfully. Any shift at any time that gives them abetter chance could easily be taken as their opportunity to rebel.

 Having a character want tostay requires positive reinforcement over threat. Agreeing with group ideologywould help but above that the characters need to be getting something from theorganisation they’re in. Privileges, goods, special treatment, comradery-something that they would lose ifthey left.

 Think about….Kylo Ren from the recent Star Wars films. He’s one of thebad guys and he’s embedded in their organisation. The films go out of their wayto show that he has major doubts about what he’s doing, regrets a lot of hisawful actions and doesn’t necessarily agree with most of the people within thegroup.

 But the group gives him powerover other people. Leaving the group and doing what he knows to be right meansabandoning that power. And time and again we see him rejecting opportunities toleave even though he’s unhappy where he is. (Note that this willingness tosacrifice his morality in exchange for power tells us quite a bit about hischaracter.)

 The behaviour of someone who chooses to stay would vary depending ontheir personality and well- their motivation for staying. Someone who isstaying out of fear might encourageothers to stay for their own safety. But they might also encourage others toleave, to see if they could succeed or to live vicariously through theescapees. Someone who actually believes in the organisation might encouragepeople to stay and ‘do the right thing’- but they might also encourage peopleto leave just to test their loyalty.

 So in terms of how they interact with characters whose ‘loyalty’ iswavering, I think you’ve got a lot of scope to decide.

 Generally speaking is the threat of murder and torture is really the only factor then no, that’s notenough to keep people loyal.

 Fear…isn’t as powerful as people tend to think. The threat of harm doesn’t generally result in long termobedience, though it might result in short term compliance. If one characterthreatens to shoot another the victim might well do what the person with thegun asks but they’ll probably be looking for a way to get away and none of uswould expect them to be ‘loyal’ or obedient when the gun is taken away.

 That said I think you should seriously think about whether threats arethe only factor in this scenario.But threats are rarely going tobe the only factor.

 Think about things like physical security: food, water, shelter andsense of safety. Do any of the organisations provide any of those things andwould those things be in question if a character left? How about positivein-group interaction? Friendships, mentorships, romantic relationships- theseare things we need and people willstay in situations that are awful for them because a friend is there too.

 If there are no positive in group interactions then I think you need toseriously consider why that’s the case. Because generally a bunch of peopledropped in an awful situation at roughly the same social level will bond overit (caveat- mass starvation is often an exception see also Russian linguisticdistinction between ‘corpse eating’ and ‘cannibal’).

 If there’s little in the way of physical security, no benefits to groupmembership, no strong social bonds anda lot of violent threats- I think people would vote with their feet. They’d getup and leave. Not necessarily in an organised way, this doesn’t has to mean a Palmarestype situation with parallel societies (Brazil, mostly escaped slaves), itcould be much less sophisticated like the gangs of rough-sleeping wanderingyouths common in Britain in the 1700s (mostly fleeing abusive parents,employers or masters).

 I think the sort of ‘punishment camps’ you’re outlining do fit the sort of setting you’redescribing. However in terms of theeffects they’d have……….they would probably radicalise everyone directlyinvolved with them. They mightincrease fear in the general population but that does not necessarily lead toobedience and-

 Well let me unpack the effects I think they’d have.

 One of the really interesting observations Rejali makes about civilianpopulations in areas where torture is commonly going on is the tendency towards…it’snot exactly ‘victim blaming’ but the thinking is similar. Basically there is amarked tendency among people in these areas to assume that if someone is taken away and tortured they actually did break the rules in some way. This doesn’t mean they think the rules are ‘right’,that they think torture is justified or that they assume the person is aviolent criminal.

 The thought process goes something like ‘they’ve arrested him for beingpart of a criminal gang….well he did usedto hang out with all those bad kids after school- He did spend a lot of timeonline- He must have had someconnection to these criminals even if it was only tenuous- Right?’

 This thought process is a sort of mental self defence. By tellingthemselves that it isn’t random thatthere is some cause civilians areable to convince themselves that this wouldnot happen to them. That their actions can prevent it happening.

 But this is not how torture works.

 The assumption that the people in charge of these camps would alwayspick up ‘guilty’ people is deeply flawed.

 For starters when torture is an ingrained part of the system spontaneousreporting from members of the public drops.The justice system loses possibly themost important source of information: ordinary civilians.

 In contrast malicious accusations seemto rise. Which means that you have your cross-organisational ‘cops’ hearingless accusations aimed at people who are actually ‘guilty’ and more accusations aimed at people who areinnocent but disliked.

 This is just one factor that leads to torturers targeting more innocentpeople then ‘guilty’ ones (in your story I think it would be the biggestfactor).

 Torture of these innocent people is going to give them a reason to rebel. At the same time it will enable themto establish cross-organisational contacts with other wrongly-accused peopleand the occasion genuine rebel.

 So these punishment camps would function to make the resistance stronger. Because they will be creatingmore rebels, reinforcing the beliefs of existing rebels and acting as a forumfor both groups to meet and organise themselves better.

 Public shaming on return to ‘normal’ life would probably only serve toreinforce hatred of and resistance to the system. Purely because it’s immediately following torture.

 Would it scare other members of the organisation? Very possibly. People who are nottortured and don’t know anyone who was will assume there was a reason eachindividual was picked out. They’ll assume they were guilty. And for some people that will encourageobedience.

 For others it will encourage dissent.

 It will certainly stop the vast majority of people from reporting on anyrule breaking, especially if the ‘guilty’ character is someone they care about.

 It will also encourage rebellion in anyone who was close to a victim.Again this is strengthening resistance movements by furthering recruitment.

 There’s also the way we tend to respond to torture. We have…..visceralnegative reactions to seeing other people in distress or pain. These areautomatic responses wired into our brains. We can’t turn them off.

 Publically parading victims who have obviously and visibly been torturedwould serve as a recruitment tool for resistance organisations. Because asignificant portion of the audience would not only have an automaticsympathetic response to the victim but would also be willing to act on it.

 Some people would be scared ormanipulated into inaction. But every single step of this is encouraging dissentand those numbers would build up.

 Whether people would volunteer to be torturers- The honest answer isthat I don’t know. I’m unaware of any systematic research on historicaltorturers, which is the situation I think would be closest to what you’redescribing.

 England’s more recent historical executioners were certainlyprofessionals who only performed this role. But they also didn’t always choosethe role; some took it up to prevent being executed themselves, some inherited theposition.

 And by that point they were nottorturers. In the time periods where torture was a big feature of the ‘justice’system the entire system was….not very organised and mostly functioned on anad-hoc basis. The equivalent of police, the judges- they were things people didoccasionally around their ‘main’ job. Torturers could well have functioned on asimilar basis and I’d have to do more historical research to be sure.

 In a modern context torturers aren’t really recruited by volunteering:people are screened prior to recruitment into organisations and are thenpressured into torture by sub-groups of torturers within the largerorganisation. Which isn’t the same asasking a large group of random people for volunteers- the official screeningprocess every step of the way to get into organisations, followed by the socialscreening process instigated by the torturers themselves, that probablyincreases the ‘success’ rate during recruitment.

 I imagine that there would be somevolunteers but the group you’d get volunteering would probably be hugelydemographically different to modern torturers. They’dstill develop the same side effects as other torturers.

 If they volunteered purely because of benefits they might receive,without fully understanding the nature of what they’d have to do or theconsequences this could also resultin more recruitment for resistance movements with former torturers rejectingthe organisations as well.

 Consider whether you want this level of rebellion and dissent in yourstory and how that would effect the social structures both within theorganisations and outside them. Think about how it would effect your plot.

 There are changes you could make that would probably increase obediencewithin the groups.

 Firstly there have to be some major positives to group membership.People have to get something goodfrom these groups and be aware of what they’d lose without the groups.

 Strong in-group social ties would have to be encouraged. Good behaviourwould need to have obvious rewards.

 Torture and murder would have to be rarer.

 The organisations would have to be isolated from each other as well asthe resistance movements. Cross group contact would encourage people to emphasisewith members of different groups.

 They’d essentially need to have some sort of ICURE program. That means apattern of psychological manipulation: Isolate the person, Control their accessto information, plant Uncertainty about prior beliefs, use Repetition toreinforce the beliefs and values the organisation wants to instil, andmanipulate Emotions in order to further reinforce those values.

 So people would need to be heavily isolated from other groups and subjected to a well organisedpropaganda campaign. Something highly emotive, repeated and impossible toignore which would create and reinforce their opinion of the other organisationsand the resistance.

 This would help reinforce the idea that they are better off where they are. It would teach them the other groups are‘worse’ and the resistance organisations are complete monsters.

 Public shaming without anyphysical injury would take the place of most of the torture you’ve planned.It would be the main go-to punishment for minor infractions. I’d suggestsomething similar to the group recriminations used in China in the recent past.Having a group of people surround the criminal and take turns to berate themfor their flaws and ‘sins’ at length. This could go on for hours.

 You add to this by having it recorded in some way and having thehighlights broadcast more generally to group members so that everyone surroundingthe ‘criminal’ knows exactly what they’ve done and they face constant publiccensure in the aftermath of their ‘crime’.

 If you wanted to keep thepunishment camps here’s what I’d suggest.

 Reduce the number of people put in them and increase the severity of the ‘crime’ necessary to make it possible.

 Do not make the group membership of the torturers or victims random.

 Instead have camps run by group 2 with victims only from group 3.Instead of having the victims knowthey’re going to be sent to a place like this have the victims and generalpublic told these group 3 ‘criminals’ have been sentenced to a ‘good group 3jail’. Their mass transport is then ‘attacked’ by group 2 and the prisoners areput in a ‘normal group 2 prison’ which is eventually ‘liberated’ by good group3 people.

 This would serve to confuse the story considerably. The message thissends isn’t that the in-group doeshorrible things to criminals: it’s that the othergroups are so much worse than us and oh god can you imagine what it must belike to live in those groups? Aren’t we all so glad to be part of wonderfulgroup 3 instead of awful group 2. Those savages. It’s a good thing they usuallyonly manage to kidnap prisoners being transported isn’t it? Can you imagine howawful it would be if normal peoplehad to go that close to group 2 territory?

 And so forth.

 Some of the prisoners might fall for this ruse and their animosity wouldbe directed at out groups instead oftheir own group. It might serve to make them more loyal to their own group inthe long run.

 Others probably wouldn’t fallfor the ruse but it would be incredibly easy to dismiss them as fantasists andconspiracy theorists.

 Aaaaand this has been an incredibly long answer. I hope it’s helpful andgets you thinking about what’s important to this world and ways you couldstructure the world to emphasise what’s most important to the story. :)

Disclaimer

[thechocobros]

“SEE LUNA SAFE TO ALTISSIA” - part 17

Pair: Nyx Ulric / Lunafreya Nox Fleuret

Previously: message me so I’ll give you the links ;)

Words: 9344

Plot: Luna and Nyx didn’t fell in the Empire’s trap, Nyx didn’t had to use the ring and he survived. What would have happened if Nyx really had the chance to ‘see Luna safe to Altissia’, like he promised to Regis? Part 17: The final battle has begun. Thinking that Nyx is dead, Luna tries to focus only on her mission to guide Noctis. She is determineted to tell him the truth about the prophecy and to dispose of the malicious Astrals, but this will come with a price ...  

Personal Comment: LAST CHAPTER BEFORE THE EPILOGUE! (an epilogue i accidentally deleted from my drafts but ok -.- ) I’m sorry for the horrible delay, I know I didn’t update in an eternity. I hope this big finale will repay your patience somehow. It was an extremely complicate chapter for me to write, more than the other ones probably, due to the action sequences. But here we are, my fix-it fic is over. It was an amazing journey, I loved it. It was long, difficult, but both Nyx and Luna deserved it. I hope you all think the same.

Let me know what you think, guys :))  I just want to thank @loveiscosmicsin for the costant help she gave me and YOU ALL READERS, because I wouldn’t have finished this novel fic if it wasn’t for your amazing support. I love you all. 

Stay tuned for the epilogue ;)

Luna stood paralyzed before Ardyn Izunia, mouth agape in sheer terror. She was fully aware that the man was the most inconvenient of obstacles at that point of the fight. Leviathan’s power raging in the background she had no energy to face the Usurper at the same time too.

But for some kind of destiny’s joke, the man didn’t seem to have come to fight for now. He bowed deeply instead, taking his hat off in sign of respect.

“My fair princess! How long I have waited to meet you! The pious Oracle - the Personification of Purity - who rebelled to the prophecy that decided your destiny. A model for the future generations, to never accept a fate written by someone’s else hand. I barely was able to contained my joy when you slew the Glacian.”

Lunafreya frowned and pressed her fingers around the indented grooves of the trident, seeking support in its comfortable power. She knew that if things would have turned out badly, she could count on her white magic, but at the same time gears whirred in her brain, seeking for other possibilities. Wit had always been her best weapon since she was nothing but a scared little girl, powerless in front of the cruel Empire.  

“You seem very well informed for a mere chancellor, Ardyn Izunia. So am I.”

“Then permit us to be honest to each other,” Ardyn sang with his mischievous voice, mellifluous enough to impress her, but not enough to mesmerize her.

“I didn’t expect you would response with a smile to the death of one of the Astrals, the very ones who wish to give the true king their blessing.”

“In a matter of speaking, the prince receiving those blessings was originally part of my plan,” he was attentive to not using the word ‘king’. “But perhaps I can handle it better without that condition. I’m a flexible man, after all. Anyway, let’s not speak of myself. I came here bearing gifts! This is an altar where sacrifices are offered afterall” he continued, indicating Leviathan destroying the city just a mile away. The goddess’s tail swept away an entire building in one swift motion.  

Despair filled the atmosphere and soon the bleakness of the situation will embrace the Oracle as well. Luna’s focus on Ardyn was frustratingly deviated by her worry for Noctis who she couldn’t see anymore. Her first instinct was to run straight to him as soon as possible but then Ardyn gestured to the airship that brought him here. The hatch of the ship automatically unveiled an unbelievable sight in the cargo hold. Luna gasped and widened her eyes in disbelief.

The Crystal.

The ancient artifact bestowed upon the Caelum dynasty of yore and the object of desire that Niflheim made off with in the confusion of Insomnia’s mayhem. It retained a calm glow as it was simply anticipating for one to exploit its magic.

“What is the meaning of this?” Luna asked, trying to divert attention away from her confusion.

“Oh, don’t recognize the Crystal when it’s right before your eyes? The Empire, obsessed by their greed and whatever shiny bauble that caught their attention at the moment, hasn’t quite tapped into it.”

“The Draconian and the Infernian are sealed within it,” Luna said, trying to connect the puzzle pieces.

“You’re right. And you should give them a good wake-up call.”

Leviathan moved and another earthquake summoned a sort of small tsunami which almost reached the altar and swept Luna away. When she was able to stand on her feet again, her knees had bled through her dress and Ardyn Izunia was staring at her with the most malicious of the smirks.

“What game are you imposing?” she challenged, raising her voice over the storm, simply not in the mood to entertain him.

Ardyn extended his arms, feigning concord in a circumstance that hardly was.

“Why does everyone jump to that conclusion? Do you think that I’m not capable of charity? Why, I came all this way to bring the Crystal to you.”

No, of course Luna didn’t believe in the gesture or his words for a second. In fact, she immediately considered the option of fleeing while there was still a considerable distance between them, a distance that the Chancellor was aware of.

To awaken two more deities into the chaotic fray would only wrought more destruction upon them all, she knew it too well. But at the same time, she contemplated that an opportunity would be wasted if she didn’t. At any rate, chances of survival after calling upon them were slim, and if she perished, who would have rouse Bahamut and Ifrit in her stead? She had to give Noctis the opportunity to fight the Gods and reclaim the power of the ring at all costs.

Perfectly aware of following Izunia’s twisted games, she decided to do as he asked for now. She aimed her trident toward the Crystal and let the white magic flow from her. She began to sing and pray, perpetuating the ritual, a performance done way too well by now. As the white lights around them flurried, the Crystal started to tremble so much it almost disintegrated, and everything else in the area subjected to silence. Enclosed in the proximity of her calling, there was the reason why both Ifrit and Bahamut shouldn’t have been driven from the Lucian Crystal in such a violent fashion. Once freed, nothing in the universe could encompass the awesome power of their combined antithetic might. But it was now or never and Luna didn’t really have other choice.

In a instant, the Crystal’s energy exploded.

A burst of an raw, unimaginable force.

The incredible effort sapped Luna every ounce of her strength, never had she been close to death’s gate. The blood from her face dissapated, along with breath bated and heart had skipped a beat. The feeling of losing control on her own body overwhelmed her more than the fatigue ever did and more than the illness looming over her. It was unusual and somehow… unclear.

In the depth of the silent absurdity, Luna reached for her stomach, where she felt something indistinguishably protruding from her side.

She blinked, seeing a dark substance coat her fingers. It couldn’t be blood. It was not the right color.

With Luna’s bearings regained, her eyes adjusted to the Chancellor who had enclosed the distance at last, offering a malevolent smile to the Oracle’s confusion. The blade that met the mark of its incision couldn’t be confused with an hazy dream. It was real. 

She had been stabbed.

There was no reason to look for a particular motivation beyond the unexpected act. Retrieving the weapon from Luna’s reach, Ardyn casually wiped the dagger with a handkerchief. Her role fulfilled, she was expendable in his eyes.

As she gasped and instinctively applied pressure to the wound, Luna had a delayed reaction to the pain. She was occupied with the regret of not surviving long enough to speak to Noctis one last time. What would have given to have the chance to make amends, to finally tell him about the prophecy, and giving him the chance to choose to save himself. She would have sold her soul in exchange of the opportunity to apologize, the thought had been on the back burner of her mind, in their correspondance, but it was too late. How selfish she had been before Nyx opened her eyes? All her life, she deluded herself into protecting Noctis by withholding the truth of his destiny? She never told her childhood friend that bearing the Ring would cost him his life and now, it was too late. She didn’t deserve forgiveness, nor mercy. She earned this death sentence.

She lifted her chin, noticing over Ardyn’s shoulders the colossal visages of Bahamut and Ifrit raised from the nothing after their prison was no more.

She also noticed Noctis, standing on the top of a building, looking at the chaos raging against him. He was ready to face Leviathan and probably also the other Astrals, but he was alone and still not at the peak of his power. It turned out clearly he didn’t use the Ring yet. It was just a matter of time before he realized that his only chance of survival was to doing it.

A tear streaked Lunafreya’s cheek. Ardyn best not misunderstood it as a sign of weakness, but desperation filled her veins like never before. She would have told Noctis the truth about the Ring, and permit him to choose his destiny even if it was the last thing she did in this life. 

But it would mean that she would be reunited with her husband in the Beyond.

—————-

Luna didn’t know that Nyx was not dead. He was alive, refusing to stand ground at a crucial moment.

As soon as he understood that the airship was not leading him in the right direction, he warped from one rooftop to the next, never stopping. Things started to be even more complicated after just a couple of minutes when Leviathan was repelled by the Oracle’s magic. Nyx understood that his wife’s negotiations didn’t succeed and chaos erupted. Debris, crashing walls of water, and explosions hailing around him made evading almost impossible. He had to summon all the tricks in the books to reach an intact building where he took cover for a minute to catch his breath. He felt exhausted already and he got nowhere. On the contrary, he lost track of the altar... or what was left of it. In spite of this, he was totally able to see the fight was growing exceedingly violent.

Soon enough he felt ready to warp again, but a different kind of explosion prevent him from doing it. He froze, looking to the sea, outraged by the scene before him. Two huge and threatening entities appeared not very far from Leviathan, raising from the darkness with cries of hysteria and writhing manically as if they were wild beasts released from restraints. Maybe that it was, especially considering the circumstances.

Nyx couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Bahamut and Ifrit?” he murmured, stupefied. Aside from fairy tales, he did not know anything about the Astrals before meeting Lunafreya, but she recently educated him about mythology, even at cost of sacrificing the safe and intimate moments they shared in bed. Not like Nyx could fault his wife’s bad timing of a time and place, it was a terrible habit, but at least the private lessons turned out to be useful. He was now able to recognize the Astrals.

The Glaive was aware that Lunafreya would attempt summoning Bahamut and Ifrit later on, but he was also aware that the Crystal was under the Empire’s control, possibly very far from here. So how come Lunafreya summoned them already? Something he couldn’t known must have happened.

“How is it possible? Where did you find the Crystal?” And then realization hit him like he was struck by lightning. “Izunia!”

The mere pronunciation of that name send a chill up to his spine. If the Chancellor found a way to Lunafreya, it meant that she was in mortal danger. And Nyx couldn’t believe she accepted to envoke two more enraged gods into the fray. It could only mean the situation was desperate.

“Damn, pulling the brave princess act again,” he cursed beneath his breath. He would tell Luna in person soon though. If he got to her in time.

“Nyx!” The unexpected voice which called up for him sounded like the frenzied mix between surprise and relief.

Nyx turned around to meet eyes with the Crown Prince of Lucis, covered in grime and soaked with sea water, a very far image from the one of royal blood would be presented. Now that Nyx knew the prophecy that Noctis should have fulfilled, the one of him becoming the True King of Light, he wondered if the Astrals have been not only malicious but also befuddled all along because there was nothing majestic in that skinny and clumsy young man. The universe dictated that he was the Chosen One? With a small smile, Nyx thought that maybe it was because Astrals thought he would have been the perfect lamb to lead slaughter – silent, pliable and compliant. Like in Lunafreya’s case, bad news were in store for them.

“Your Highness.”

“What are you doing here?”

In that moment Leviathan’s move threw a debris in Noctis’ direction and if Nyx didn’t warp in time, the impact would made its mark.

“About to go save Lunafreya’s ass, but I guess I can make time to save yours.” Nyx yelled in the attempt to be heard in all the confusion. “What’s up with you royal types and attracting the worst of every situation possible?”

Noctis lifted his chin and shoved the Glaive off him.

“It’s not like I asked for this and yet, here I am.”

Nyx sighed dramatically. This wasn’t the time or place to discuss this, so he didn’t comment any further and just helped the boy up.

“We gotta go. Did you use the Ring already?”

“They wouldn’t be alive if I did,” Noctis grunted, staring at the Astrals raging in the distance. “I … still don’t feel ready.”

When he caught the apprehension in those words, Nyx felt hesitation knot inside his stomach. If carrying the ring on a chain on his neck made the Glaive feel like he had a leash, wearing it on the finger must have felt like succumbing to the death. And the prince was nothing but a boy, brave but naive. Strong but inexperienced. Did he sense where putting the ring would have lead him? Did he guessed the required blood prince beyond it? If he did, he didn’t say anything.

“Should I wear it now, Nyx?” Noctis asked instead, looking at the Astrals in the distance. There was so much distress brimmed in his eyes and an hollowed echo in his voice that Nyx almost wished to shield Noctis away from every possible harm. Sadly, fleeing was not an option.

A pointless response was on the tip of Nyx’s tongue and remained unsaid, leaving him insecure of how to answer the prince. He had to have faith in his wife, trusting she would have guided Noctis until the very end, doing the right thing, and revealing him the truth, all with a smile on her lips. His main goal now was to protect them both.

So Nyx took Noctis’ shoulder and pulled him close, to encourage and to assure him he would have stand by his side, no matter what. Noctis seemed grateful for that hasty but heartfelt gesture and exchanging an understatement nod, they warped ahead at the unison.

The prince and the Glaive, off to save their princess.

———

If those were her last breaths, Luna would have used them to blow things in a way that Ardyn couldn’t ever predict.

Watching with distraught eyes of her own blood dripping on slippery stone, she retrieved her trident again, imparting all her power to it. A thick ring of light encircled her, vibrating and taking everything down like a tsunami. Her white magic yearned to reach the target, searching every perimeter of the atmosphere with spasmodic accuracy until it finally found the prince and another very dear person that Luna didn’t expect to sense.

———

Warping closer to the Astrals felt like shooting against the world’s end. It was fire and water, wind and earth, the elements shaken, the certainties lost in a vortex of unknowns. It hurt. It really did. 

If Nyx and Noctis didn’t have each other to rely on, there was no way that they could safely navigate through the vortex of destruction on their own. There was only forward, but obstacles before them forced them to embark detour after detour and time wasn’t on their side.

But then, they sensed Lunafreya. Like a sudden slap on the face, they suddenly knew she was there. They did not see her face, nor her figure. But it was her and she was everywhere.

“Your Highness, it’s time!” Nyx screamed, seizing the prince’s arm as he pointed at Leviathan, the closest divinity. “Take her out, I’ll cover you!”

Noctis nodded to the Glaive and focused, absorbing Luna’s magic from the chaotic atmosphere with deep breaths and closed his eyes. He secured himself to the wall of a building but he was rewarded for his concentration when he begun to levitate, the ancestral Armiger appearing from the nothing and circumnavigated about him.

Nyx looked at him in awe, holding the kukris in his hands, feeling that his own weapons couldn’t compare, much less leave a dent. For a moment he was certain that Noctis would have been fine against Leviathan without his help and such an intuition found confirmation when Noctis projected the first attack.

It was a blast. 

Fueled by the Oracle’s white magic, Noctis warped and slit, weapons serving him like a dozen of new arms. Nothing dared to move again after his lethal and unstoppable contact. Nyx had troubles in following his lead in the chaos but whenever he caught him, he saw him hitting the target with great precision and he felt so proud of him and even more so of Lunafreya, who lent such an outstanding strength to him.

It was then his mind caressed the memory of Luna that he felt his heart ache in the desire of being reunited with her as soon as possible. He quickly gazed the altar and the gods in the distance with renewed resolve and his feet started to move by themselves. First, they trotted, then they ran, and in the end, he warped. Without taking his eyes off Noctis, he got closer to his wife and finally reached for her.

———————

But what he expected to be the fulfillment of his promise and an happy reunion, quickly turned into the worst nightmare when he faced the truth of what happened during his absence. An absence that almost swept away the light from Luna’s eyes.

“Nyx…” she whispered, letting the trident fall and trying to lift herself up from her forearms.

Luna would have thought she was dreaming if the pain she felt reminded her that the time on this world was to a close. 

“Lunafreya!”

Luna lifted her chin enough to see the Glaive warping next to her, panic spreading all over his face. She found again all the details she thought she lost forever: the small tattoos, the braids, the shape of his jaw, the perfect lips now split and covered with blood. His strong arms picked her up, touching her with desperation and at the same time, delicately.

“I thought you were d–” Luna started, but her breath halted abruptly, stealing away her words.

Nyx adjusted her in his embrace and checked her out from the point of her head to the tip of her heels. His heart fell in a black abyss as soon as he noticed the wound on her abdomen and the urge of doing something almost brought him to the edge of the sanity.

“I’m fine!” When he screamed, he was angry. Damn, he was so angry. This was not supposed to be happening. “What happened to you? What–?” A grimace of pain moved on Luna’s beautiful forehead and she felt the urge to hide her face in his neck to alleviate her suffering. She wanted to cry because he was real, he was alive, and she was dying instead. Where she was headed was somewhere her Nyx would not be.

“Nyx. Nyx…” Her voice was on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry. I did all that I could, I–”

“Hey, the prince got the Ring, okay? He’s gonna fix this mess. You did it. Now look at me. Stay with me. You’re not dying on my watch, Lunafreya.”

Luna smiled and looked at him expectedly.

“You did your job. You delivered the Ring to Noctis… and you came back as promised.” Nyx got drawn by the sweetness in her tone and in that moment everything around them disappeared, the raging Astrals, the decadent city, the chaos, the wounds. It was just the two of them, looking at each other in the eyes, trying to stop the time and capture eternity in the middle.

“Told you I would,” Nyx whispered, caressing her cheek with the thumb, wiping away the water of the ocean. Or maybe, it was her tears.

“Thank you… My dearest Nyx. Help Noctis now, I beg this of you. I beg you.”

“You still have to tell him about the Ring,” Nyx said, frantically, hoping to offer her more reasons to stay, like his wish to remain forever together wasn’t enough.

Luna surprised him by answering, “I will.”

Her promise left Nyx speechless. Then her lips moved, but no sound that he could make out until he leaned in. She gained all her remaining strength to whisper, “I love you” and closed her eyes, looking so tired and pale.

Nyx’s eyebrows furrowed, panic stirring in his chest as soon as he understood what was happening. The acutest pain hit him and paralyzed him. He wanted to say something but couldn’t. His lips were trembling badly. Tears pushed and asked to be released, but he couldn’t do that either. So he just stared at his wife, numb.

“Nyx!” Nyx recognized the voice. It was Noctis, calling for him from a close distance, like an echo, it barely reached him. Another voice joined, a different one, with an aristocratic accent.

“Noct!” This was Ignis. He arrived there, too.

But the Glaive ignored them both. He kept staring at Luna. He got closer to her lips and pressed his forehead to hers, trying to gift her his warmth, praying in vain to save her. 

When he failed, he felt the world stop moving.

—————–

When he almost finished Leviathan off, Noctis had ran toward the altar, sensing Luna’s magic abandoning him. The attempt had caused him pain not only because Leviathan’s hysteria: Bahamut had joined the battle, taking the Goddess of the Sea’s side and throwing the young Prince in the ocean like he was a mere puppet. Noctis couldn’t explain how he survived that.

He felt the Ring calling for him, asking to be used but he did his best to ignore it, certain he had to wait a bit longer. Just a bit longer.

So Noctis swam to the river, Luna’s white magic sneaking away from his veins. As soon as he reached the altar he understood why. She was dying. So pale, so beautiful, curled in Nyx’s arms.

“Nyx!” he called, but then Noctis fell to his knees, a sudden tiredness embraced him. Something else was happening, something inside him. He didn’t even had the time to panic because energies were quickly abandoning him. He had the time to look for the Ring in his pocket, pressing it against the palm of his hand.

“Noct!”

The prince turned aside and noticed Ignis alongside with Ravus. He smiled to his loyal advisor then his sight got blurry. The ring toppled to the pavement and he fainted.

————-

Ravus was still paired up with Ignis when they headed for the altar. But as the High Commander’s breath hitched in seeing his sister’s corpse, Ignis ran to Noctis’ side instead and quickly checked his pulse. Sensing it was still there, he sighed in relief but at the same time searched for the cause of his fainting and founded nothing but the ring beside him. He took it with justified fear and then swallowed, turning around to look at Nyx and Ravus.

The Glaive was huddled there, staring at the woman in his arms. His eyes were empty, haunted by the final words bestowed to him. Not even Ravus, destroyed by seeing his sister lifeless, could equal his level of numbness.

Ignis understood. He understood far better than Noctis or Ravus ever could. He knew what meant dedicating your life to someone and not being able to protect that person in spite of every effort. If Noctis wouldn’t been revived, he would have felt dejected from existence in the same way. So he stood up, thinking of getting closer to Nyx and Ravus to offer them comfort, but there was not time for mourning because the Astrals were still raging in the distance and because someone appeared not very far from them.

“Ardyn!” Ravus seethed, recognizing him.

“Hello there. What a happy reunion in such a distressful time.” 

Ignis quickly assumed a defensive position, certain that he wouldn’t have let him closer to Noct or Luna. “Nyx Ulric! On your feet!” he called, praying that the Glaive would abandon his comatose status and react because they needed him now more than ever. “Nyx!”

When Nyx lifted his eyes, there was death inside. "Give me the Ring,” he said.

Ignis gasped. Nyx knew what using the ring would mean. When Insomnia was under attack he saw Ravus using it and suffered the consequences. Lunafreya had told him that Noctis himself - the Chosen one - would have consumed his life for using it. So when he asked to Ignis to hand him the Ring, he knew that what would have been the consequences, but he just didn’t care. Lunafreya, his princess, his wife, his reason to live, had died in his arms and this made him reckless. His life meant nothing now she was gone. He failed his mission. He didn’t protect her. To atone for such a sin, he would have sacrificed his life to kill the murderous Astrals and maybe also the Usurper, so Noctis didn’t have to.

“No, Nyx. Using the Ring is a right reserved to the True King and only Noct –” Ignis started, but got interrupted by the Glaive’s prompt response.

“You wouldn’t use it if it was Noctis in Lunafreya’s place?”

Ignis didn’t reply, averting his gaze with a grimace. So when Nyx reached for the Ring, Ignis hesitated just for a second before handing it over to him. Damn the consequences.

It was fast. Nyx wore it before Ignis’, Ravus’, and Ardyn’s shocked eyes. And the darkness fell on that dimension, bringing Nyx face to face with the powerful kings of the past.

—————————-

Blades of grass caressed Noctis’ cheek and he woke up. At the beginning he couldn’t recognize the perfume of the sylleblossoms, too much time was passed since he last smelled it. Twelve years, probably.

As he stood up and the blue color of the flowers filled his eyes, he understood he was inside a dream, there was no other explanation to such a contrasting scenery. Trapped inside the body of when he was just a eight years old boy, he looked around, searching for Luna, the only one he shared the memory of the sylleblossom field with.

“Noctis?”

There she was, the younger version of her. Blond hair on her tiny shoulders, the cute little dress, she was exactly like he remembered in her fondest memories.

Noctis felt his heart warming up, childhood dreams filling with bittersweet tenderness his mind repressed from the associated pain of her visage.

“Luna?”

“So you found your way here.”

Noctis stood up and looked at her. Once again, they were two children in a flower field, talking surrounded by peace.

“And you found me” Noctis whispered then, comforted by that thought.

“A chance to see you once more. Who would have thought?”

“Luna. Where are we? What’s happening?”

“I needed to have a moment to speak with you, Noctis. Before I go.”

“Go where?”

In that moment, the wind swished graciously and Luna’s beautiful white dress follow the breeze, getting longer in the air. When Noctis lifted his chin to look at her again, the child was gone and an adult woman, mature and emotionally drained, replaced her instead. Still, she was beautiful.

“Where you can’t follow, Noctis. I’m dying. I enjoyed my moments of happiness. Since I left my goodbyes with Tenebrae months ago, I knew this day would have come,” she whispered, but her echo could be heard from the distance in the irisdescent atmosphere. “The Astrals ordained my death and rebelling against them came with a price. I’m ready to the fare as long as you, Nyx, and the all of Eos are preserved.”

The mention of that name in the conversation woke doubts in Noct’s mind. Even if he was trapped inside the body of a child, his memory of an adult was able to reach for the image of Luna dying with Nyx’s lips on hers. That caused him pain but also a dazzling feeling of emptiness.

“You love the Glaive, don’t you?”

Luna let a second pass and then nodded.

“I was happy, Noctis. He made me happy, even for just a little while. So don’t think you couldn’t save me because in a way... He did already when nobody else could.”

Noctis forgot how to use the tongue to speak for at least one minute straight. The feeling inside his heart was confused and uncertain, very similar to the frustration of not being able to do what he always wished to: helping Luna.  

“What… What should I do then? What do you want me to do?”

“Your burden is heavy enough. You still must banish the Darkness from our Star, Noctis. Ardyn Izunia is the Usurper and even if we’d succeed in killing the malicious Astrals, he still would try to have his revenge on your lineage. The only power able to destroy him is the one restrained in the Ring, but about that you must be warned of something your father and I never had the courage to share with you.”  Luna could barely conceal her sadness looking at the child she shared so many fond memories with. He really cared for her, as much she cared for him. It was about time to speak him the truth and guide him one last time before parting ways. They were like parallel lines, after all, always so close, never destined to entwine.

“What is it about?”

“The Kings ask for a blood price. The Old Wall can be summoned from drawing the essence of your life.”

“Does it mean I’m gonna die…?”

Luna’s heart ached.

“So speaks the prophecy, Noctis.” The spark died in the boy’s eyes and Luna had only a faint hope to offer him. If she would have suggested him a corect line of action which implied saving his life, she would have considered her calling of Oracle really fulfilled. Guiding him was her mission, after all. Making him happy was her wish. “But you can defeat it, together with your best friends and with the loyalty of the Glaives like Nyx. So many people are ready to stand by you all along, Noctis. So many people are ready to challenge fate to see you safe. Not a single life will be taken if you will share your burden with all of them.” 

“Share my burden…? How?”

“Inside the Crystal, you’ll find an answer. The Kings of Yore will show mercy to their descendants. Once you’re inside there, your trials will start and you’ll enter into reflection. Remember you’re not alone. If you’ll keep in mind that you don’t have to carry your burden alone, you’ll manage to survive the cruel fate the gods chose for you.” 

A sudden and far noise broke the peace of the meadow. The sylleblossoms delicately waved, the earth underneath their feet did, too.

Noctis panicked a bit like the kid he seemed, while Luna looked upon the sky with sad eyes. Understanding what was happening, she got so close to tears and had to battle a lot to be strong.

“What’s going on up there?” Noctis screamed. The dream they were trapped in started to collapse. 

“You belong to the realm of the living, Noctis” said Luna then, aware of running out of time, “Godspeed. Reclaim your throne. Nyx has certainly used the Ring already like the stubborn fool he is. Don’t let the Kings burn him alive for his recklessness, I beg of you. Join forces with him.” 

The sylleblossoms around them started to melt and moved like waves of water. Still, Noctis had questions.

“What about you?” Luna shook her head in response. “No! Luna!” The mysterious flow pulled Noctis away from his friend and no matter how much the boy streched out to reach for her, he just couldn’t touch her.

Luna didn’t ask to be saved though. She was smiling, because she told Noctis the truth in the end because Noctis would have saved Nyx and together they would have saved the world.

Her duty was done.

Her calling finally fulfilled.

———————

Nyx found himself floating in an indefinite blue space, surrounded by darkness and clueless of what expecting next. He figured that such a place was an alternate dimension used by the Kings to get in touch  with the mortals but he couldn’t be sure. Yet, all that space, with no appropriation of space or size, made him even more anxious than he already was. He was sure that the Kings of Lucis wouldn’t have welcomed his impudent initiative, so he stood there alone for a long minute, in silence and uncertainty, contemplating the possibility of his imminent death.

“Show yourselves, Kings of Lucis!” he called out in the end, tired of waiting.

Like they were sparks of blue fire bursting out of a volcano, the spirits of the kings appeared all around him, minacious and powerful. They didn’t make a sound nor move a breeze. What did he expect from ghosts? And Nyx hoped that ghosts may go gentle on him.

“You call upon the wards of this world’s future, mortal. And if you come lusting for our power, you must first stand in our judgment,” one of them started. Nyx thought it was the most important among them so he turned around until he faced him.

“You did nothing as Insomnia burned and now, you did nothing as the woman who did so much to preserve the light in the world - the woman who dared to challenge the gods when nobody of you did – suffered and died. She is the blood of the Oracle, but you let her alone in this fight!”

Nyx’s voice trembled as he spoke so, but didn’t end it there. On the contrary it screamed out loud. He was angry, he was in agony, he was ready to fight not only the Gods but also the ghosts of the Kings of Lucis in order to receive even the slightest hope of bringing Lunafreya back. The pain of having lost her had hurt him so badly that he was ready to try and risk everything. He would have gladly got down in hell, sunk his feet in the river Styx and fought the devil himself if it was necessary. Everything. Everything to keep her safe - or in this case, to bring her back.

He didn’t want to think it was over and that she was lost forever, not yet, but he couldn’t deny that the situation was kinda desperate.

“Man is a fool creature, clinging to his past and cowering from his future” answered the Kings in fact. “Wasting his strength on bygone days. And what future are you wards of? So shortsighted. And cursed never to rise above it. It does not fall to us to guard your city or your woman.”

“But it falls to you to guard the future!” Nyx screamed back.

“Guarding the future is something we do of our own accord. At a time we so choose.”

“The longer you wait, the more the world burns! Old or new, or whatever it is, give me your power. Now! Destroy the gods. Banish the darkness. If you can’t save her, don’t let Lunafreya’s death be in vain!” Nyx’s voice was starting to get not only reckless, but also really desperate. With Lunafreya gone and the prince unconscious, if the Kings of Lucis would have refused to help him too, there would be no hope.

He wanted to save everything and everyone, it was something written in his blood and he couldn’t help with it.

“You do not command us. Yours is not even royal blood.”

That statement hit Nyx’s nerves. He couldn’t believe that the Kings would have been so irrational and stubborn to refuse his request just because he wasn’t a member of the royal family. Truth to be told, he could have asked nicely, but there was no time for it. They had to listen to him, and quickly. So he opened his mouth to try to work out a response and give them a piece of his mind when another voice joined the conversation, interrupting him.

“His may be not. But mine is.” 

Nyx boggled and turned around in shock.

He may have not spoken with that voice so often, but he would have recognize it between a milion similar ones.

Noctis was standing there, some steps away from him, lifting his chin to face the Kings, an unspoken courage on the face. He was raising his right hand in the air and it was then when Nyx noticed the ring on his finger. Puzzled and confused, the Glaive checked his own hand, seeing that the ring had dissapeared from there to materialize on the prince’s. This caused an hesitant smile dawning on his face.

“The Ring. How…?” Nyx whispered, adressing to Noctis. “How come you’re here?”

Noctis glanced at him briefly and smiled wryly. “Luna.”

That name made Nyx’s heart lighten and enlarge. “You spoke with her…?” he asked increduolously. 

Despite his question, Noctis walked ahead, ignoring him to address the Kings instead.

“Father.” One of the shadows twirled gently and bent down, getting closer to Noctis with obvious familiarity. He didn’t say anything, so Noctis did first, “Grant to Nyx Ulric to go on living. I’m gonna need him as much as I’m gonna need the support of my friends. That’s how I can defeat the prophecy, isn’t it?”

“The prophecy is matter of the gods and the Kings put it into action. You must know by now that the power of the Ring costs a life because it’s fed with vital energy. No one can change this” the mechanical voice of the ghost king replied. 

“What if each one of us sacrifice a piece of their own life instead?” Noctis asked it as a question, but he looked pretty confident about his suggestion. “In that case, you’d have your blood debt and we all would survive long enough to enjoy the light of the dawn for years.”

A deep silence fell among the ghosts of the kings.

“Who plotted this scheme?” Someone asked. Surprisingly enough, there was stupor in the question like they were outraged that someone actually dared to elaborate such a proposal.

Noctis didn’t answer but his grin milded with a tender expression, revealing the truth without speaking a word.

Luna.

It was certainly her the one behind the suggestion.

King Regis - it was clear it was him under the solid armor which made him hard to recognize - stepped ahead, slowly. “For years I mourned your fate, Noctis. I would have done anything to save you and I still would. But your life is very high valued, your request cannot be granted so easily. If we accept, how many people would have to share your burden when it was meant to be only yours to bear?”

“I don’t know. How many people died for me until now? Without my knowledge?”

Regis boggled at the veiled accusation, hit right in the feelings. In his mind shocking images of Insomnia’s destruction probably appeared, because he immediately seemed to submit.

“I’m sorry, Noctis. I was only trying to spare you the pain... I thought your destiny couldn’t be changed.”

Noctis’ face frowned in suffurance. “I wish I knew about what gods had in store for me, Dad. We would have find a solution together. And maybe … you’d still be here, too.” The boy almost started to cry but he quickly hid the feelings behind a mask of resolution, determined to settle down the right priorities. He looked at his finger, were the ring was positioned. Glowing with a menacious shade of red, it looked like an horrible instrument of death.

“But we can still change destiny, Dad. I’m going to get home back. Trust me. Believe in me.

King Regis took a long minute before nodding. For some reason, Nyx imagined he was smiling under the helm.

“My wayward son is ready to be a king, then” he said then, a voice so human in spite of the eerie reverberations. And he stepped back, to rejoin the rest of the Kings. “He’s right. A lot of people will be ready to lend him their strength. We must prepare to pay our blood debt and Noctis will do what he must. Let’s grant him our power and send the Glaive back with him.”

There was a long silence, but for some reason, the King who spoke first - the most hostile one - didn’t bother to object. It was like he trusted King Regis completely even if he was technically the latest addition to the club.

“Very well, Chosen. You and the impudent Glaive return to the realm of the living. We’ll grant you our powers. And then you’ll enter into Reflection, for you, the journey has just begun.” 

But Noctis didn’t seem to be satisfied yet.

“The world is going to need a guide while I’m inside the Crystal. Who should I trust for this? Ravus? I don’t think so. You all know that Eos always looked to only one person for inspiration,” he added, knowing exactly he was crossing a line he shouldn’t have get close to. Asking to the Kings a ressurection when he just obtained the greatest powers almost for free was really… audacious. In spite of this, there was the sparkle of a smile on his lips. Like he knew that Kings wouldn’t ever deny anything to their beloved last heir.

Nyx realized he was not so shameless compared to him. And for this reason, he promised his eternal loyalty to that young King instantly. 

“Now, now, Young King. We take lives, we don’t give them” one of the Ancestors replied though. “The favor you’re asking is something only the gods are able to grant. Throw them on your feet and they shall do as you order. They will give back the life they slowly sucked away all along. The Oracle is not of our concern.”

Noctis turned. He and Nyx shared a deep and meaningful glance.

Nyx didn’t know what to say, so great was the confusion and the emotion. He just saw history being written under his very own eyes and he could barely realize it.

“Of course. The Six ripped off Luna of her white magic, and if we kill them one by one, they’re gonna give back what they took. Luna’s life included. So, we can stick to our original plan” Noctis whispered, opening the palms of his hands and closing his eyes. The Ring glowed again, glowing red, and Nyx understood they were going back to reality with an unbelievable pact sealed with the old Kings of Lucis. Unable to formulate into words the strong emotion he felt inside, he just stepped ahead, closer to Noctis. As he reached for his shoulder, King Regis interrupted him in the attempt of stealing another promise.

“Nyx Ulric. You used the Ring and this will take a major tool on you, no matter if you’ll survive or not. The old wall is no joke and you was so reckless to ask for it. However, I am getting used to trust you with the lives of the dearest people I still have on earth, because I know you didn’t let me down and never will. Take care of my son.” 

Nyx took only one instant to figure what Regis wanted to say. The Ring was made of black magic, the darkest and the most powerful one. If it was true that the life price would have requested a certain amount of strength from Noctis’ best friends, a major price would have come upon Nyx, because he dared to use the Ring, going way too far. He couldn’t think of playing with fire without getting burned. At the same time, he couldn’t regret trying. So he nodded with a serious expression.

Regis probably was satisfied of his courage, so he added, “However, once that Luna is back, she will help you fighting the darkness of the Ring’s repercussions. Godspeed.”

And if that was the deal to be struck, the darkness didn’t scare him.

So, he smirked like he was used to, “Where do I sign?”

——————-

With a flash made of light, they returned back to reality.

Ardyn didn’t got any closer and the Gods were still raging behind, so both Nyx and Noctis realized that just a couple of seconds had passed since they left the real world to speak with the Gods.

So they didn’t lose any more time, they both sprinted up on their feet and summoned their weapons, Nyx the kukris, Noctis all the ancestral weapons in his arsenal. Shoulders against shoulders, they shared a nod and silently agreed on what to do.

They parted ways without even the need to wish each other “good luck”, because no luck was needed. They both had the power of the Kings of the past and that was an assurance of victory already.

Noctis threw himself agaist the Astrals first, knowing they were the priority if they wanted to clear the path to Ardyn and if they wanted Luna back. With the Ring on his finger he was unstoppable and lethal while Leviathan was heavily injured already. He didn’t took a lot of time to knock them off, one by one, but Nyx didn’t notice anyway. In fact, everything happened so fast that Nyx could barely aknowledge the sequence of action at all. He didn’t have the time to see Noctis killing Leviathan and Bahamut, then Ifrit, then summoning Titan and Ramuh and dispose of them too. He didn’t have the time because he was busy keeping Ardyn occupied until Noctis would have been back and he did it amazingly.

Like Regis’ ghost warned him, the power of the ring was taking a toll on his body already. He was feeling the dark magic of the Kings running through his veins, leaving marks similar to burning cinders on his skin. In spite of this, he didn’t bother. He would have kept the promise he made to Regis: he would have stood by Noctis side, no matter at what cost. He would have gifted him his own vital energy at the right moment. And he would have survived to see Luna running back in his arms.

Nyx learned that hope was the most powerful magic in his own arsenal. Without it, he wouldn’t have been the hero everyone labeled him with when for the first time in forever, he felt to stand the title.

Thinking of this, the power of the ring overwhelmed him to the point he completely lost the control on time. Maybe the pride and the self condidence were pushing him towards the darkness quicker than he could expect. Once again, he didn’t care.

Ignis and Ravus came to help him and that was when Ardyn himself started to lose the fight. All of a sudden, the Usurper couldn’t avoid the blows delivered by the kukris, nor the trajectory of the magic, and Nyx felt the darkness inside him getting stronger and stronger, he lost his soul to it.

He kept casting death spells, until the climax brought him to the point where he could barely remember how to breathe.

That was the moment when a voice called for him.

“Nyx, that’s enough.” 

He couldn’t stop immediately, even if he wanted to. He kept attacking Ardyn, like another wave of darkness had deleted his rationality, replacing it with pure fury. It was not until he recognized the voice calling him that he halted.  

“Nyx.”

He gasped.

His vision blurred.

He stopped this time.

He let the kukris falling on the ground and all of a sudden he felt like the powers of the ring abbandoned him, which made him kneel down and almost faint. His heart missed a beat, confused by the lack of adrenaline he previously lost himself to. If a pair of pale arms didn’t embrace him, he would have certainly crushed his face to the ground.

The scent of her hair hit him first. Then the warmth of her skin. Nyx sighed deeply, finding relief even before completely aknowledging what was happening. He used his last reserves of strength to hug her so tight that he feared losing her if he didn’t hold her close.

“Ardyn is gone,” she whispered in his ear, delicate like a sylleblossom and gentle as a breeze. 

He was not instead. Trembling and panting, the Glaive asked harshly, “Is he dead?” 

“No, my love. But he will be, one day. By the hand of our King, not ours.”

Fair enough.

Only then, Nyx sighed deeply, slowing regaining control on his muscles. As the power of the kings started to leave his body, he felt the skin melting and the brain going empty. He almost wanted to cry to give to vent the numbess, but he ended up abandoning himself to her, burying his nose in her hair.  

“We both did enough, Nyx. Let’s take a break.”

Her voice was so calm, and that was the only thing that prevent him from falling apart.

Nyx flinched back to look at her, eager to involve other senses in the relief of having her back. And Lunafreya was there, real and alive. He admired the square shape of her jaw, the bones of her collarbone, the crystal blue of her beautiful eyes. She was covered in powder and dirty water, but she never looked so human and beautiful. He immediately reached for her cheeks, to caress them and wipe away a tear stemming from the source.

“You’re back,” he whispered, still shaking. The spirals similar to burning cinder reached his neck, but the only touch of Lunafreya’s hand took it away with a glow. Her healing magic was his cure. Not even when he made love to her thinking there was no tomorrow, he felt more intimately connected to her like when she cured him in that specific situation. She literally sucked away the darkness inside him with the delicate touch of her fingers and that felt like heaven. With a sigh of relief, he leaned forward to kiss her smile. When they interrupted the kiss a minute later, she finally managed to nod. 

“What did you offer to the Kings in exchange of my life?” 

“Nothing more than what we already planned to offer. The lives of the Six.”

Luna opened her mouth in disbelief and immediately checked the marks on her stomach. Nothing was visible under her thin and white dress, which meant they were all gone. The knife wound created by Ardyn was gone, too, and only the stain of the dark blood smudged the fabric. The destruction of the gods inverted the course of her destiny, exactly like they originally expected. When Noctis killed them, their death gave back her life, her magic and her health.

Realizing this, Luna gasped but the shock on her face was well concealed by the calm of her inner confusion. She was just too surprised to actually show it. She just stood like that, Nyx’s hands on hers, and said nothing.

In the meantime, around them the fog had cleared, revealing that Ardyn had dissapeared. Ravus and Ignis - exausted by the surreal fight - limped toward Nyx’s and Luna’s direction, dismay on their faces that in Ravus’ case quickly turned into excitement.

“Lunafreya!” he screamed, shamelessly stealing her from Nyx’s arms to hug her like he never did before. Luna gladly accepted his affection for once, wondering why she had to die before seeing his brother act like when they were children. “You were dead. How…?”

Nyx stood up with difficulty, looking at the weird spirals on his burning skin slowly dissapear, leaving behind scars. Shelving the mixed feelings he had towards the Ring’s blood price and Noctis’ survival, he focused on the view of Altissia around them.

Destruction and chaos was everywhere.

The corpse of the gods had dissapeared immediately after their death, but the signs of their rage remained in the felled buildings and broken bridges. The darken clouds in the sky opened a little, so the weak rays of sunshine could touch the flowers destroyed by the water, the upside down tables and chairs of the restaurants and the broken glasses of the windows. It was a distressing view, but Nyx could only feel relief.

The Gods were gone. Somehow, they accomplished the impossible. But if the battle was won, so it wasn’t the war. Izunia was still alive and he would have spread the Darkness upon all Eos. 

As a matter of fact, he looked for Noctis and noticed him up there where what was left of the altar was located. He stood all alone with the Crystal next to him. Even from the distance, the ring on his had was extremely visible, as much as the sad expression on his face.

His eyes met Nyx’s, and he smiled. That look meant a lot for them both. It meant “I will be back soon I promise”, “go, we’ll settle the rest”, “hold on until the day I will reclaim the throne”, “take care of them” and also … “take care of her”. Nyx somehow understood all the layers of the glance and simply nodded, clenching the jaw in a nervous and silent movement.

Then, Noctis quickly glanced back at Ignis, looking for Prompto and Gladiolus who were running in their direction. A soft smile warmed up his expression. In that moment, Nyx noticed that something was different in him, already. His way of standing tall was different, his shoulders were straighten up, his face looked more mature. And when he turned his back to his friends to enter inside the Crystal, Nyx observed the awareness in his walking.

The young prince would have been a great King once he would have come out of the Crystal. He would have lived long enough to rule well on Eos, sharing his burden with his loyal friends. With him, too.

While he was thinking at this, Luna’s fingers slid between Nyx’s ones, delicate as feathers. The Glaive turned to watch her positioning next to him, holding up to his arm. Her eyes were glowing like diamonds under the rays of the sun, a sun that would have shown rarely in the next years.

Nyx found inspiration in watching her, knowing that she would have lead Eos during Noctis’ absence, spreading hope in his return.

So, it was it. The moment of the separation had come. Darkness would have fallen upon them. But it would have been temporary.

Nyx and Luna stood in silent reverence as they watched their future King dissapear inside the Crystal, leaving the burden of the world on their shoulders.