#He'd be blind to red but blues and greens? All clear!

[cxpperhead]

Has Copperhead's eyesight changed at all as his mutation has progressed?

While Copperhead lost the ability to close his eyes, his sight improved significantly, making him able to perceive his surroundings much more clearly in low levels of light than ordinary humans can. Not only that but the cones in his eyes are much more receptive to colours in these conditions - snakes aren't renowned for having great eyesight but Copperhead is built different, quite literally since even in near total darkness, he can perceive blue and green when most other nocturnal creatures are limited to black and white! His eyes are also great at handling UV lighting, be it high levels during the day or low, low levels at night? Copperhead is comfortable operating at either time of day, even when living in sunny places like his native state of Arizona but rapid changes can and will cause temporary blindness since Copperhead cannot close his eyes against sudden flashes. This temporary state of blindness hinders him less than you'd expect; he goes through this during shedding periods, eyes filming up and glazing over when his skin is preparing to renew but getting flashbanged hurts and will almost certainly piss him off. During the day, he can see about as well as a human with perfect eyesight and very good ability to track moving objects, therefore responding much more quickly due to his Metahuman capabilities but it's at night when his abilities truly comes into play, making him a much more formidable hunter when others are stumbling around blind in the dark.

[hwajin]

— somebody to you

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 ✦ :: — bang chan | 4k follower event

genre: fluff

pairing: chan x gn!reader

Sun against your skin, the smell of watermelon and strawberry all around, mixed with salty breeze, with calming air. You were warm, blinded by sunlight, feet occasionally flooded with a wave of ocean. Accompanied with sounds of seagulls, of children buying ice cream, playing in the water, of couples talking and laughing, of families discussing - accompanied by the love of your life.

Chan's presence always clear beside you, even if you didn't see him. His body always close to your own, grazing a fingertip over your exposed skin, running a palm of sunscreen against your body caressing face, playing with hair. Not a moment passed where his touch wasn't on you, subtle loving, delicate. Not a moment when his giggle didn't feel your ears when your body jerked at his sudden contact, unexpectant, surprising. It was peace, it was love, it was everything you'd ever want - to be his, to call him yours.

A polaroid of you in the back of his phonecase when he took a picture of you, unknowing to you, lying by the beach with your glasses on, dozing off, in the comfort of sun and summer, his presence. Adding the picture to the folder dedicated to you and he smiled at it, stupidly enamoured, utterly hopeless. You were everything he'd ever wish for, had spent years upon years wishing on your love until you had granted it to him. Cherishing seconds he had with you, moments so so trivial yet deeming most precious.

Sharing kisses as the day got older, sun sinking behind horizon and you didn't wish to leave for home, not yet, not ever. Wanting every moment with him to last lifetimes, wanting his closure forever, wanting his lips on you until your final breath. Mouths swollen as time passed, red and puffed though it didn't stop you. Sharing kisses as the sun went down, as the ocean fell from green to blue to black, as every soul has left two lovers lay by the shore, seagulls and waves your only company - though each other was enough, for now and for endless years to come.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @felixinameadowandthesuniswarm @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife @happycandynoelle

[thepaintedlady00]

Burden Chapter 9 Sneak Peek!

This one was close, but our very obvious good boy took the vote! And as always yall have managed to pick the saddest one 😂😅 So, here's your weekly dose of angst!

🐺

Sirius was one with these dark woods. He'd been brought to life within them and had grown from a naïve newborn into what he was now. A killer. A protector. A companion. This was still his home even after the snow and ash, after the fires that decimated half the woods, the beasts and demons of gnarled shadow and bone. The Forest was his, but more than that, it was hers.

His paws tread atop the snow, barely leaving any prints beneath him as he hunched forward, camouflaged against the crisp white. In the glen ahead he watched a small group of demons huddle around a fire. They joked about how the tree screamed when they cut it down, and laughed at how pathetic his lady's efforts at protecting it were.

Pathetic, he thought with a pointed-toothed sneer. These trespassers are pathetic indeed. He would make quick work of them. The deep growls echoed through the trees, coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once as the demons looked at the clouded wood that surrounded them. Sirius used his environment well, climbing the lower branches of the twisted trees to gain a better vantage point. He stared down at them for a moment before letting loose a deep bark that signaled the snakes beneath the snow.

The white serpents were perfectly camouflaged as they slithered toward each demon, jumping out to latch onto their legs, and pulling them down to the ground. The sulphuric tint in their corrupted blood made Sirius' nose burn as he dove down into the center of the glen, kicking a mass of snow over their fire and casting them into total darkness. He could see them, even blind in his one eye he could see them clear as day.

Sirius barked two more times and the snakes let go of the demons, slithering back beneath the ground and away from the danger. He would finish these foul creatures off with his own teeth. One by one he circled the demons, listening to those once confident and humored voices fill now with terror. It was a fitting end, one he would cherish almost as much as he'd cherish the knowledge that they would carry this failure to their winged master.

In the darkness, all the demons could see was the glowing blue eyes of the white wolf just before his teeth pierced their throats. Their blood spoiled the ground beneath them, melting the snow with a wicked hiss and turning what dead lay beneath it to little more than black ash. Sirius mourned this. He mourned The Forest's green for a moment before turning to head back to his Lady's side.

Once he'd enjoyed the quiet walk back to her, but now there was little to enjoy. The trees were bare of leaves and all color, and the cold ground beneath him stung the bottoms of his paws. The mist was thin which only made it easier to see just how dead his home had become. He quietly approached the thick wall of woven roots and tree limbs, pressing his nose to the course bark and watching as they parted just large enough for him to slide through.

This was the only place that held any heat, the only palace that wasn't dead... yet. The space where The Great Tree once stood was now only filled with mist as the ground below was littered with the remains of the fallen tree. The leaves turned to mulch, not even crunching beneath his paws as he moved through the red water and approached the small bed of twisted roots and vines to where her pale hand hung over the side.

Sirius pressed his head into it with a soft whine. Her stiff fingers twitched as she tried to reciprocate the loving act. He could hear her wheezing breaths and her soft whisper of his name. "My star," she said. "Stay with me a while."

He obeyed, gently climbing into the bed and moving to curl beside her, minding where the roots connected to the gaping wound in her chest. He laid his head beneath her neck and closed his eyes, listening to the weakened heartbeat of his lady. "I shall stay for as long as you shall have me, my lady."

[cassieuncaged]

Grave Bound - Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Summary: Elias struggles with PTSD and accepts being set up on a blind date.

TW: brief nightmarish imagery, PTSD, allusions to verbal and physical abuse, language, etc.

WC: 2.8 K

1973

The jungle was humid, suffocating. Even the rain leant no relief, droplets of water blurring clear eyes. He’d easily shot down a few straggling NVA soldiers before sprinting through the brush.

Better them than me.

It was getting harder to believe that flimsy excuse, brittle in a man that knew better. Did that make him a ‘water walker’ or simply human? Elias thought the latter, but pondering wasn’t important while bounding through uneven terrain.

Maybe if he could make it just a little longer, he’d be free of it all. Even getting back to base was preferable than the constant running. The nightmarish fodder of slain corpses or the smell of burning flesh would never leave his mind completely. But getting to lay in an actual bunk for one night was enough to get him through.

There was a moment that the only sound he heard was blood pounding in his ears. Eyes scanning the perimeter in a frenzy, the long neck of a rifle batted against leaves and trees. In a kaleidoscope of blues and greens there was a menacing figure approaching in the brush.

It was his end, something deep in his gut said that much.

Even when met with stern eyes and a gnarled mug, the hatred seemed to have simmered away. Momentarily, there was safety in the squared shoulders of Bob Barnes.  Suddenly, the jungle faded into nothingness before blue eyes as clear as his own boasted a bright flame. Maybe it was unbridled fury or revenge. All Elias knew was that when Bob pulled the trigger, breathing was nearly impossible.

……

Gulping for air, he woke with a start.

Wide eyes scanned the meager room before stopping on two calloused palms held a few inches from a fearful face. Sun poured through the blinds, breaking the bedding into splinters of sunlight. The only sign of life beside his own was the mutt curled dutifully at the foot of the bed. Taking in a few more shaking breaths, fingers carefully came to run across sharp cheek bones, down wobbling lips and to his chin. All familiar, all alive, all him. Something the nightmares couldn’t take, something Barnes didn’t get to. Though reliving that same moment nearly every night was more than enough to leave a hollow shell of a man.

Four years had passed and nearly every breath still felt like pins and needles. The doctors said that and the pain in his leg would likely last a lifetime though liquor and weed kept the discomfort dull. The entirety of war had boasted a myriad of chronic effects, the mental more brutal than the physical. It was a plague, robbing him of sleep while he wished to dream of the good times with his buddies. Elias couldn’t remember the last time he’d written Taylor but he needed to thank him for disobeying orders and doubling back. Even if the last half decade had been the most difficult years to muddle through. Yet again, he'd muddled through the majority of a less than charmed life.

Elias K. Grodin.

The black sheep of a middle-class family, rural Wisconsinites that hadn’t come from much. High school was a nightmare and collegiate life sounded nowhere near as interesting as actually going out into the world and living. Elias had never been much for playing ball like his brother or had phenomenal grades like his sister. All the man had was the painful reminder that he’d never meet Arthur Grodin’s standards, that he’d always be the family disappointment. Every night, stumbling through the front door of the family home brought more arguments than it did any solace. Art sat in front of the television set, face as red as a cooked ham. It was hard to tell if he’d picked a fight with his wife or the Packers were losing. Regardless, his bleary-eyed son had clearly picked the wrong time to come home.

“You’re a damn louse who’s never going to amount to anything.” the words were bitter with resentment. Brows knit together, Elias smirked.

“What should I do, pa? Get plastered every night and watch some guys toss a ball around?”

“Watch your mouth, Elias.” It was a warning, one that didn’t take. “Why couldn’t you be like Paul?”

“You got a popular footballer and a valedictorian. Guess one of us had to be the fuck up. But that says a whole hell of lot more about you than me.”

He hadn’t remembered much of the altercation. But his smart mouth really twisted a thorn in the older man’s side. It resulted in several cracked ribs and a bloody nose being treated at the hospital. Twenty-four years old, wasting away with nothing to do. Dragging along his pretty girlfriend, Jeannie, guilt started to bubble in his chest in that hospital bed. She and his mother were doting and careful while a storm brewed inside.

King had been there through it all, the one friend that stuck around. The one lifeline in an ocean of desperation. Getting away was about the only thing he could do. And after a heart wrenching split from an inconsolable Jeannie, he moved into a crumbling Milwaukee apartment with King. Life continued to deteriorate, unraveling at a rapid pace.

Drugs, petty theft, disturbing the peace…

A string of misdemeanors with no end in sight, continuing for several years until his buddy decided to make a change. Enlisting seemed like the best option, an escape from reality, doing something with his time that actually mattered. King had a reason for trying to do better, meeting a girl whose scholarly father he wanted to impress.

“Military man looks better on paper than ‘felon’. What’s your excuse ‘Lias?”

Those words had stuck with him since ’66, back in basic training. Spoken by a man that had gotten out virtually unscathed with a pretty girlfriend waiting for him. Diana. She’d been a great reason to shape up. Elias was proud of his friend, working hard to be a better man. But he didn’t have anyone to improve for.

Elias was alone.

After being shipped back barely breathing, no lover or opportunities waited on the other side of recovery. Just a scathing father overshadowing his caring wife. Art was a nightmare the first time around and the second time was no better. Mary was gaunt and tired, barely able to defend herself let alone one of her children. Though Elias was used to it; his father barked just about as much as Barnes did.

You gonna lay around the house all day? There’s always work to be done, you bum.

It was a surprise the term ‘water walker’ never got thrown around. Then again, his father wasn’t very clever. Putting several states between them had been the smart move as Elias adjusted to the bustle of Brooklyn. He was still a shell of a man, hobbling along the sidewalk, forgotten as strangers passed him on their commutes.

A ghost among men.

Hair shaggier, skin paler, Elias tried his best to distance himself from the years served on enemy soil. But there were reminders everywhere. A cop’s gun misfiring or the smell of a gasoline was enough to make lips curl anxiously over a line of jagged teeth, to remember the eyes of dead men. Innocents. Hell, they were all innocent as far as he was concerned. Fighting a war that could never be won, some losing their humanity completely. Barnes and Bunny came to mind, especially the latter. The twisted, bloodthirsty look the kid would get in his eyes. Playing war with their lives hanging in the balance. They were all just pawns, for a game that no one could win…

“Fuck!” a large hand swiped the contents atop the nightstand to the ground. Major whimpered as Elias heaved, long fingers spreading out across flannel clad knees. Tears welled in his eyes, the same that sought their reflection in a cracked mirror. Hair covered a sharp face in tawny strands, sinewy torso littered in scars, a network of ghastly lavender blooming over one pectoral.

A few photographs had been upended in the outburst among pills and lip balm. One of him and King as teenagers, one with his brother and sister on vacation in Arizona in ’55, and one that made the tears so much harder to hold back. It was a polaroid, a quick snap from base camp. Wild hair was restrained by a camouflage headband, arm swung around slender shoulders of the sweetest soul he’d ever met. Lieutenant Maggie Wilson.

Cobalt blue eyes glinted in the sun, copper curls practically framing that ruddy face like a damned halo. It was hard to tell that Harris had just chewed him out or that her superior was about to chastise the two of them for ‘slacking off’. There was a glimpse of innocence captured between the brutality. Elias could still remember the way she felt pressed against his chest or how sweetly she’d whispered ‘I love you’ under a field of stars. He’d never said it back, not even during R&R. And she’d never know how that sweet smile or girlish giggle were burned into an aching brain for an eternity.

There was never a chance to tell her.

Tears splashed onto the floor, dripping onto the barrage of memories in their wake. Everyday hurt more than the last and he felt utterly alone.

Abandoned by an uncaring world, tired and empty.

……

Rugged hands examined the engine on a cinderblock. The day had been unrelenting, leaving Elias thankful for the peace and quiet of an empty garage. The only noise came from the radio propped on the workbench. Looking at the piece of machinery was like attempting to solve a puzzle, a giant one that continued to leak a pool of oil onto the ground. Likely a nicked hose, something the edge of a blunt thumbnail sought for.

Rubber soles smacked against stained concrete as Jimmy strode in, still sporting grease splotched coveralls. He was a decent manager if not a bit idealistic. Dark hair was slicked back like a fifty’s greaser, doe eyes hopeful as he leaned against the work bench.

“What you listening too?” The man bobbed his head to the song, terribly out of time.

“Can You Get to That?, Funkadelics. Pretty groovy shit.” Elias added with an infectious grin.

“I like it. Sharon’s more of a Tammy Wynette and Dolly Parton kind of gal. That’s about all I hear when I’m home.”

"That's better than when your kid was obsessed The Purple People Eater. Maura over that phase yet?”

“Didn't have much of a choice when the record went ‘missing’. Had a fit about it until I started playing some Deep Purple as a substitution. Seems taken by that. You don't have kids, do you?”

“Nah,” A mop of long hair shook before he was leaning over the disembodied engine. “Have three nieces and two nephews though. So I’ve been around em enough. Have wild obsessive streaks.”

“I’ll say,” Jimmy milled around, leaning on the car being picked apart, “Working late tonight?”

“Could ask the same of you,” Elias arched a thick brow, “Avoiding Sharon and the girls?”

“Nothing like that. Balancing the books, or at least trying to. You seeing anyone, Elias?”

"Not exclusively. Someone interested?” he practically snorted at the admission having a difficult time believing it.

“Sorta,” Jimmy added shyly as Elias sauntered back to the work bench. The radio was flipped off before tools were sorted through. “Kinda got a blind date situation."

“With?” the word was a flat admission.

“Would it kill you to sound interested?” Jimmy shrugged, earning an unimpressed glare.

“You’re the one that came to me. Don’t forget that.” Elias warned playfully in return, “Who do you owe a favor?”

“Nothing like that. Shar wants to set up her little sister. Afraid she’ll get lonely or some shit like that?"

“And you?” greasy hands were wiped off on a tattered cloth.

“Trying to keep my wife happy. You can say ‘no’. But I sure as shit wouldn’t set her up with any of the other guys here; I love em all like brothers but they’ve got some dirty mouths, that’s for sure.”

“Alright.” Pushing the tool case aside, a pack of cigarettes were retrieved from one pocket. The lanky man hopped up on the work bench, offering his manager a smoke as well. “Tell me about her.”

“Can’t give you a name. Sharon wants to keep this as secret as possible.” Jimmy took a deep drag on the cigarette.

“That woman you’ve got is something.” His stomach flipped nervously; he didn’t like being put in precarious situations.

“Watch it. If things go well, you could be part of the family.”

“Easy there, buckaroo. Let’s start with what you can tell me.”

“Pretty, softspoken, redhead, book smart, nurse, has a cat.” Each word was read off dutifully as if by list, fingers on one hand being unfolded.

“We’re not playing Password,” Elias chuckled, enjoying the quiet moments like this. Jimmy was the closest thing that there was to a friend in the city. He’d even gotten an invite for dinner but shyly found a way out of it. Nothing was quite as difficult as opening up to a stranger, giving them the upper hand. “Tell me about her.”

“She’s the nicest person I’ve ever met but she's feisty. Hard woman to describe without giving everything away. She was in Nam too. Nurse.”

“Ahh, that’s why you chose me.” It stung a little bit, like a wound that never completely closed. Being a survivor felt more like an assigned identity than just a plain fact.

“Not exactly. You’re a catch, Grodin.”

“That’s a new one.”

“You are. Plus, you’re funny and have a way with words…” Jimmy grinned dreamily as long arms were fastened against a broad chest, wide lips curled into a smirk, “You do. I just thought it’d be nice for the two of you to bond. War was hard on her too.”

“Yeah, pretty rough on everyone involved.” Elias wanted to be annoyed, to be put off by the offer. But there was a gnawing loneliness digging a hole in a bruised heart. One-night stands got a little old after a while, becoming more unfulfilling than not. Would it really hurt to put himself out there for once? To take one measly chance? “What the hell. Tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“Really?” Brows shot up to a high hairline, cigarette being stubbed into the scarred table top, “You’ll throw me a bone?”

“Sure,” Elias sucked the filtered tip sharply, “What’ve I got to lose?”

……

“What do you think, Jules?” the reception was fuzzy, his sister’s voice sounding distant in the receiver. They weren’t as close as they’d been in their youth, though there’d always been a strong bond.

“Stop running around!” Children chirped in the background, clattering about the kitchen, “I’m sorry, ‘Lias. What was that?”

“You’re alright,” he sucked on a joint lazily, pushing the paper flat into the pad of one thumb, “The blind date. You think it’s worth it?”

“I went on one years ago,” Julia added sagely. “It wasn’t a love connection but I'm happy I did it.”

“I ever meet the guy?”

“You being the ‘protective big brother’ for the first time in your life?”

“I’m serious,” he added flatly.

“Never introduced him to the family. He was in musical theatre and did mushrooms. Daddy would’ve hated him.”

“What about you?”

“He was fun. It wasn't long term but I'm grateful for our time together. Nervous?” she’d always had a soft voice, understanding and comforting. It reminded him of their mother, who had all but eroded under the pressure of verbal abuse.

“Never done it before.” Shifting a little, Major shoved his head atop one thigh. “Just doing my boss a favor.”

“Weird favor. But if you like her, can I meet her?” Julia asked playfully. There was something innocent and childlike about his sister.

“If I like her, I’m keeping her far away from Wisconsin state lines.”

“Fair enough. Listen, the kids are driving me nuts. Can we talk later?”

“Sure. Love ya, kiddo.” There was a quick 'you too' followed by the dial tone. There was something comforting in the sound, a reminder that there were living, breathing people a short call away. Especially when the world felt so cold and lonely.

Sucking on the joint a little harder, it was difficult to ignore the high seeping into his brain. The weed combatted the nightmares better than anything else. Molecules jumped pleasantly beneath tanned skin and against rattling bones. For a moment, his body felt lighter than it had in years.

[thecorpseswallower]

I. Azar

Azar blinked awake slowly, roused by the heated argument gaining traction just downwind of the caravan. His tail lazily thumped against the hay pile he had curled up against, and as he stretched, his fur rose in defiance of the cold.

Before him sat the Scholars on two benches facing the inner aisle; on the left were the Humans, Marciano and Magnolia, and Emil, the sole Yaksha among them. While Magnolia held her posture stiff with a practised detachment, Marciano was incensed by the debate. Though he had yet to raise his voice, his annoyance was clear in the line of his brow and the hunch of his shoulders. A vein on his neck thrummed out of sync with the sound of hooves outside.

Emil had curled himself into as small of a ball as he could manage, given his size. His cloak wrapped around his shoulders like a blanket, his face down-turned to rest in folded arms. It brought his horns forward in the image of a bull ready to charge, but his fat tail was curled protectively around his legs as if to shield him from both the cold and the conversation.

On the other side were the Aos Sí twins, Alphonse and Medb. Their identical blue-hued faces would be impossible for a layperson to differentiate; both twins had worn their long, white hair tied back to keep the flyaways from their eyes, and sported matching bluish robes that dusted the floor of the caravan. It was only in their demeanour that they differed. Medb rested her chin on her palm, staring wistfully out the back of the carriage while her brother Alphonse leaned forward, keyed into this debate.

Azar squinted into the daylight outside.

In ancient Kha’ash, there was no word for snow.

His native Shambalan dialect called it yakhbandan, and as a cub he would utter the word in quiet awe, as foul weather so rarely darkened the skies over Elysium. Those rare moments marked some of the very few times when his siblings would cease their posturing and take a moment to pelt each other with snowballs instead of blows, scurrying hitherto on icy roads with abandon.

As a Mau grown, he had become more acquainted with frosty weather— he'd dug caravan wheels out of high banks in his apprenticeship, and shovelled paths to the forge from his village in northern Cockaigne. Still, he had never truly grown out of that kittenhood fascination.

Even now, though the frosty air needled at him, he found his gaze transfixed upon the rolling hillside.

The treeline of Lyonesse had long since bled into barren fields of frost-dusted yellow grass. Where there was once a proper road to follow, the only indication they had of remaining on any semblance of a road were the low stone walls and occasional cairn that marked the passage of a mile.

Among the vivid orange fields were tufts of rusty red flowers, the creeping green of freshly moistened lichen growing in the cracks of stone walls, and the occasional bluish sprig of flowers with bells that hung heavy and limp. When passing over a hill, Azar could glimpse the edge of a slow-moving river twisting just out of sight, the midday sunlight glimmering off it in brief, blinding flashes. 

The snow had grown thicker as they travelled towards the interior of Andlàngr, appearing in thick patches like blankets thrown haphazardly across the ground, but it was nothing like the antiquated stories Ulfr had uncovered.

The capital of Asgard was famed for looming atop a frosty mountain surrounded by a ravine of unknowable depths. It had been reported that the snow in the land was deep enough to swallow whole houses, and so the denizens of Andlángr— all Aos Sí, calling themselves the Alfar— had made their homes in hills and out of the ice itself.

But it had seemed that such reports were hyperbolic. There was, so far, very little sign of life at all.

The target for their visit was not yet the capital, but a smaller outpost within a day’s ride from Ys: a fortress by the name of Himinbjörg. Nestled in the shadow of mountains, the thin, cold air as they rose in elevation stung Azar’s lungs to breathe in.

“All I’m saying,” Alphonse argued in a whisper, “Is that they must have some understanding of it. Otherwise, for one, why would they agree to align with us—”

Marciano interrupted him; “Just because they may have some understanding of Ka and Khet does not mean they are accepting of it.”

“But we’ve made no secret of what we do, and if Speech can develop within anyone, surely they must have some precedent for mages!”

The carriage jostled. Magnolia closed her eyes, taking meditative breaths.

To save the boys from her wrath, Azar decided it best to intervene. “All this bickering could raise the dead for you, Alfie.” He said, scratching his beard as he sat up on his haunches. “What’s this about?”

“Marciano thinks we’ll be put in the stocks for being mages,” Alphonse said.

Indignant, Marciano clarified, “No, I was merely reminding Alphonse not to speak so openly about our work when numerous accounts have mentioned the Alfar’s hostility towards mages.”

“Grandfather was Alfarin,” Alphonse said to him, and Marciano quickly looked aside.

“Ívarr travelled west, beyond the borders of any maps,” he said eventually. “We are fleeing north, and we have nowhere else to go at this point. If we must perform magic, let it be subtle.”

Azar couldn’t help to take the bait. “Like yours?” He prompted. “If we must do magic, let it be of the Ka variety, right? Or Ba, or Sah?”

The man glowered at him from under dark brows. “Are we getting into this again, cat?”

“Are we?” Azar responded, feigning innocence.

Only then did Magnolia speak up, though her words addressed no one in the caravan. Eyes opened, fixed upon some unseen point in the tarp above them, she said, “Yes, we are still travelling. It shouldn’t be long now. The roads are clear of snow so far.”

When recognition returned to her, Azar took the opportunity to guess, “Was that Lorna?”

“Ulfr, actually.”

“I spent so long learning that damned spell only for none of you to actually use it with me."

Magnolia smiled at him curtly. “Because your responses feel like being trampled by a bull.”

She wasn’t wrong. The art of Conveyance was not a skill suited to all. It required not only a mind open to suggestion but the discretion as to who and what it let through, and what it sent out. Azar seemingly had no such abilities. While his mind was infuriatingly hard to open, his own messages battered down the defences of others like a siege weapon. Brief experimentation had left each Scholar with a splitting headache, and while it was by no means intentional on his end, it was decided that Azar should refrain from using the skill whenever possible.

“Still,” he sulked halfheartedly, gathering his travelling cloak around himself. “What did he say?”

“He’s just checking in on things. I think he expected us to be there by now.”

As she spoke, the sound of crunching snow and loose stone under the wheels changed to the rhythmic clatter of laid brickwork. With all the jostling, the open tarp at the back of the caravan fell shut. Medb left alone, turning her attention to adjusting her garments.

The caravan rolled onwards.

In time, chatter could be heard over the squeaking of wheels and the breathing of animals. The language was utterly foreign to any dialect Azar knew. There were some scattered words of Arcadian blended into the mix, loan words that were chopped up by thick accents and strange syllables. Perhaps it bore a vague resemblance to the archaic language of Lyonesse, but such a tongue had fallen into obscurity in the wider world. His ears swivelled, head cocked to catch what he could.

Suddenly, the tarp of their caravan was thrown open. Harsh sunlight flooded the interior, blinding them all for a moment before their eyes adjusted and they saw, for the first time in two centuries, the city of Himinbjörg.

Typical of a fortress, it was not designed with the gentler comforts of society in mind. The walls that marked its boundaries were high and made of grey, unpainted stone. Watchtowers were dotted all along the wall, with additional free-standing structures both inside and outside the perimeter. Each had an enormous bell at its peak, and archers could be seen peering down at them with open curiosity.

The streets were busy, even crowded. Though some had stopped to watch the foreigners arrive, the vast majority of Alfar seemed preoccupied with their own tasks. Crossing the centre of town were hundreds of Aos Sí hauling either produce or weaponry. Their clothes were loose and simple, undyed but bordered with intricate ribbons that wove gold and silver into spiralling knots. Some wore aprons over unpadded dresses, sporting belts weighed down by several iron tools. Others wore trousers under long tunics and carried swords at their sides. Nearly all wore their hair long.

The knights that flanked the caravan sported no plate armour, as was customary in the south. The most heavily fortified among them wore only long white gambesons that skirted just above the hem of their gilded tunics, and wide belts that carried both axes and swords in fraying sheathes. Each held a spear, simple and unembellished, but the tips were so polished that they shone like stars.

As Magnolia stepped out of the caravan, one of the knights bowed stiffly to her, saying, “Mér er ánægja ađ ūví ađ bjķđa ykkur velkomnar. Welcome.”

With rehearsed politeness, and making absolutely no attempt at the local language, she responded, “Thank you.”

The remaining Scholars followed her in order of importance, leaving Emil and Azar as the last to emerge. He had anticipated their stares long before he even boarded the caravan back in Ys. Noticing the guards nearest to himself and the Yaksha boy stiffen with surprise, he met their gazes eye-to-eye, unabashed. If Emil could withdraw any further into himself, he would simply cease existing.

In time, the onlookers quieted with the arrival of one man: a wide, tall Aos Sí with ruddy-coloured skin and pale, closely-cropped hair. Unlike his subordinates he did don a full suit of plated armour, which was powdered curiously white by some chalky bloom. Over his chest he wore a snowy tabard with a ram's head emblem woven in stark red. A thin, blond beard framed his jawline, and his eyes were warmly brown.

This, Azar could surmise, was Hadrien.

"Friends of the lowlands, welcome!" He boomed in perfect Arcadian. He gestured at the fortress, and as he smiled, he revealed a set of long and needle-like fangs. Every Alfar was said to have them. It made Azar feel more welcome than his words. "We of Himinbjörg are honoured to have you as our guests." 

“The honour is ours,” Magnolia replied, replicating her earlier curtsy. “I, Magnolia Rosales of Scholomance, Scholar of the Third Chapter, Speaker of our division, say on behalf of us all that it is a privilege felt most deeply to be the first outsiders to witness these lands in over two hundred years.” 

“And I, Hadrien FitzChèvrellier of House Chèvrellier, am honoured to be at your service.”

Magnolia indicated the Human at her side, introducing him as, "Marciano Gallo of Scholomance, my vassal.” Then to the twins: “Alphonse and Medb Ivers, children of Cathal Ivers and Heirs to Scholomance. Emil Meitling, Alphonse's…” She paused for a moment. “Personal guard. And Azar, who is under my employment.”

The twins both dodged Hadrien's eyes when attention was brought to them. Emil, too, attempted to hide by tucking into his thick woollen cloak without comment— but that was less successful.

As a Yaksha Emil was naturally taller than most, but the boy was also built broad and strong. Blackish scales freckled his dark skin, condensing into spikes that mimicked a patchy beard along his jawline. His bovine ears remained flattened down against his cheeks, and his thick, leathery tail remained wrapped anxiously around his own ankles, attempting to make himself smaller.

Meanwhile, Azar and Hadrien exchanged openly curious stares. The wind pinned back his long ears, which flicked in annoyance at the tickle of snow.

Hadrien placed a fist to his chest, thumping his armoured knuckles against the tabard. If he was in any way unsettled by their appearances, he did not show it outwardly. "I know that you do not come to speak on behalf of your people, but I do hope that this arrangement becomes the first step towards fostering an understanding of the Spoken outside our borders," he said.

Azar mimicked the action, raising a black paw to his heart. "I only hope that we should be so lucky," he agreed. 

Noticing the way the other Scholars shivered, Hadrien barked a short laugh. "Oh, deeply sorry. I have heard it's much warmer to the south. Come, we should continue these pleasantries inside." 

He lead them over to what looked, at first, like a mound of stacked logs. The building was long and low to the ground, the stairs to its entryway leading down rather than up, and its roof curved so low on either side that it melded with the earth. Rows of shields and javelin spikes lay atop its peak like thorny shingling, and some tenacious weeds had begun to sprout in the packed earth.

In the centre of the building was a low fire pit and two rows of benches stretching the length of the hall. A cauldron was suspended above the fire emitting a sweet, spiced scent that perfumed the otherwise musty interior. Animal skins lay draped along the seats, hung on the walls, thrown on the floor as temporary mats. Here and there were more discarded shields, animal horns hung by waxed strings on a post; the trappings of a well-used fortress. 

“Well!” Hadrien clapped his hands together sharply. “You are free to roam. Warm yourselves around the fire, if you'd like. We will begin discussions once the Commander arrives." 

Given her newfound freedom, Medb promptly and wordlessly extracted herself from the Scholars, walking to the far wall to examine the menagerie of discarded weapons. Alphonse, though first exchanging an anxious glance with both Emil and Magnolia, dipped his head as he followed— and the Yaksha boy joined him at his heels, leaving only Marciano, Azar, and Magnolia herself in the presence of their host.

"My apologies, it has been a long journey," Magnolia explained. 

Hadrien looked puzzled. "There is nothing to apologise for, my Lady. Please, make yourselves comfortable. While it is a long way to travel from the city of Ys, it is longer still to the capital. Our Commander may yet be some time away." 

"Oh," Magnolia said, "I was under the impression that Himinbjörg was close to the Bifrost." 

"To an extent. Come, there is a map I can show you." 

Ushering the remaining Scholars to a table further down the long hall, Hadrien pointed to the image of that very fortress etched into the yellowing vellum of a large map. It displayed quite a bit more detail than the ones at the Scholars' disposal, with the valleys and peaks of jagged mountains clearly marked in concentric tiers of elevation. He then moved his finger further north, tracing a winding path across precarious ridges as it snaked its way into the mountains.

The ravine that surrounded Asgard was coloured almost entirely black with soot, save for the two bridges extended from its southern and western walls like spokes on a compass. The northern and eastern bridges were scored through with knife marks, and much of the land beyond it remained blank. 

"It takes around two days to travel from here to Asgard," Hadrien informed them. "The road follows many switchback turns as it climbs up the mountain. The road to Ys, however, is much straighter. I hope the climb did not frighten you." 

Azar followed the path they had taken earlier that day with his eyes. It seemed as though the road narrowed to a single line as they approached the fortress. Deep crevices in the earth framed each side of the path, looking too thin for a caravan to travel. 

“Of course not,” Magnolia said. “Our coachman was a most excellent navigator.”

"You place your faith highly in us, my Lady! It is most welcome. But, our ibex are so sure-footed that they hardly need a driver, even on these narrow hills." His pride was evident. "They come from house Chèvrellier."

Azar raised a claw to the map, hovering above the vellum so as to not rip it. He gestured to the empty areas and asked, “What of this? Are there no cities to the east?” 

“Not anymore. It was there that the great dragon Níðhöggr rose to blight our lands. What few settlements remained after his brood ravaged the area were fully razed during the last reclamation attempt, around twenty years ago. The bridge was destroyed soon thereafter, and the one to the north had fallen to ruin. It was simply too cold to man the signal tower there. Luckily, the dragons seem to share our good sense! They do not attack often from the north.” 

“I see.” Azar tilted his head. “And these towns to the west, they are…?” 

“Vimur, directly on the other side of the western bridge. Svöl has fallen to its north, but south of that is Fjörm, where another signal tower lies. Then, in the lower lands—” 

The door of the fortress creaked open. All conversation came to a halt as a dark figure stepped in.

“Ah, Scholars,” Hadrien nodded towards the new guest. “This is Commander Lárus Stríðson of the Holy Knights. Lárus, you have kept us waiting!” 

The Commander entered, brushing snow from his hair. He shrugged off a heavy woollen cloak, laying it to dry on one of the benches. Every garment he wore was black, making his frame seem all the more gaunt and his skin, the colour of newly exposed sapwood, even paler in comparison. His hair was as swarthy as his clothing, cut short but still falling about his brow in heavy curls.

He was handsome in his features, beardless in the fashion of Aos Sí to the south, though his eyes were of a shade so brightly blue and pupils so small that they seemed altogether alien. They did not dilate in the dim light of the hall, appearing as mere pinpoints as he glanced at each Scholar in turn.

“Sincerely, you have my apologies,” he said, and took a seat by the fire.

-- Next ->

[gaoau]

Is there any reason you were born?

Raison d'Être warnings — none. word count — 2.4k note — somewhat inspired by mafumafu's "生まれた意味などなかった"

next.

Chifuyu hummed to himself while turning his head towards the door of his shop. He swore he'd heard a weak knock, too loud to be the rain but too quiet to be a person. It was too late for anyone to drop by the shop anyway. He'd even sent Kazutora home already. He scanned his eyes over the dark streets outside the glass, finding the wide stare of a panting woman. She removed the hood from her head in one swift movement, then rapped her knuckles against the door with more strength than the first time. Her hair stuck to her face with streaks of rain running down her cheeks. From beneath her jacket, he caught sight of the puppy she held onto so tightly.

One more night of boring monotony. Rain fell from blackening clouds like bullets shot straight from the Heavens in a whirlwind of water. Cleansing for some, but heavy for others. [Name] dragged her feet through the soaked streets of Tokyo, staring ahead at the empty road as she marched past sleeping families and dormant houses. The same sights she glared at every day greeted her with no interest, burned in the depths of her memory from a repeated routine, yet becoming nothing more than a forgotten view as soon as her eyes abandoned them. She would be seeing all of it again the following day; same time, same place, perhaps no rain, perhaps the same storm. The beat of the rain on her umbrella was becoming obnoxiously repetitive.

She knew about the refraction of the neon signage around her shining into the droplets of water decorating her surroundings, akin to diamonds glistening in the sunshine. When the waves entered through a specific spot, bending to the same proportions every time, shining differently for every little jewel settling on the palm of her hand and on the puddles forming on the pavement. White, blue, orange, red, pink, green—how come it all looked grey? So much beauty overflowing from every corner of the city, and [Name] chose to overlook it all.

Strutting forward, never looking behind her at the collapsing ground creeping towards her heels, she ignored the echoing sounds of the rain pelting down on her umbrella, the chilling splashes of puddles on her ankles, the ominous feeling of falling behind. It overwhelmed her as much as it did every single night. Without a yesterday, a today, or a tomorrow, she became a bystander of things that didn't exist. A world so finite and foolish, did she really have any desire to keep on living such monotony?

Her body shivered on instinct to shake the thought out of her head. No, she wasn't stagnant enough to confidently say she wanted to die, she understood that. But wanting to die and wanting to live were two completely different things. Neither could compare to the other. She had no answers even for herself. To find a reason, to carry on, to enjoy the world of greys of every vibrancy. A brush soaking in ink against a blank canvas—so many possibilities. The empty dullness of the world through her eyes reflected itself on her inexpressive face.

Thunder rumbled in the distance; the ground beneath her shoes trembled and she felt the melodies of the sky resonate in her chest. She blinked in surprise at the unexpected sound, tilting her umbrella backwards to stare up at the shades of purple stretching above her head. The blinding lights engulfing her hadn't allowed her to see the flash of lightning splitting the clouds. There came another one. A few droplets against her skin were enough to remind her she should keep moving to get home.

She froze.

Her feet halted in the middle of the street as the cold wrapped around her to immobilize her muscles. Was it her imagination? No. She'd heard something; neither loud nor clear, but she'd heard it. A faint, whispering whimper struggling to crawl above the orchestra of rain and thunder. Her gaze fell from the sky to the soaked cement, searching for the source of the noise in frantic concern.

A box. A cardboard box, abandoned on the side of the sidewalk, drowning underneath the hammering storm. [Name] stared at the head of fur shivering in a curled ball of neglect. It whimpered and whined and complained. Her legs moved faster than her mind could ever hope to run and she crouched beside the box, shielding it from the cruel rain with her umbrella. Fingertips skilled enough to conjure up a masterpiece of acrylics became hesitant as they approached the trembling creature.

Her incredulous eyes met those of a freezing puppy—shimmering with hope and relief, ecstatic at the sight of a helping hand, but not quite holding the energy to express it. [Name] bit down on her lip while contemplating her next decisions. A small, vulnerable life left in a cardboard box, as if it held no value at all. Could she save it with those fingers experienced in the art of wasted potential? One more night of boring monotony as she stained her world with plain greys, and now she was presented with a new chance to sprinkle some meaning into her life.

The puppy attempted a frail bark. [Name] didn't waste another second marinating the thought in her head. The umbrella slipped from her grasp as she reached out to scoop the dog in her arms. With one hand, she lifted the hood of her windbreaker over her head; the other one pressed the quivering puppy close to her chest. She grimaced at the bony weightlessness piercing her palms, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane as it sought warmth in the cotton of her damp sweater. If she could just save it—save that poor life at the brink of death, so valuable now to her. If she could do that one thing.

Chifuyu hurried to unlock the door and allow her inside. She stepped in with the chill of the storm trailing behind her. The click of the lock shut out the white noise of the rain. As soon as he turned towards the woman, she separated the dog from her body. "Thank you," she breathed out, seemingly exhausted, "thank you. Thank you so much. I'm sorry it's so late, but I… I found him abandoned and I'm not sure what I should do." Her words shot out from her mouth in a rapid flurry, cutting irregularly between her hesitation.

Offering her a comforting smile to ease her worries, Chifuyu accepted the puppy from her cold, stiff hands. Tiny and fragile, it shivered in his grasp. "Don't worry about it, I'll help you out." He saw her shoulders visibly relaxing. "I'll check him up and get him warm and comfortable. You should settle down, too, you're soaked."

Her eyes darted down to her feet, where she cringed at the tracks of filthy rainwater she'd brought in with her. She instantly removed her shoes to avoid worsening the disaster of impoliteness on Chifuyu's pristine tiles—wet socks were better than dirty soles. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I can clean it up."

"It's alright. Please, take off your coat or you'll catch a cold."

[Name] did as told without another word of complaint. Discarding both her soaked windbreaker and dampened sweater, she was thankful the rain hadn't reached her dress shirt. It was thin and barely offered any insulation against the storm outside, but as long as she stayed in the warmth of the shop, she was okay. She breathed steadily to recompose herself, finally allowing the situation to process in her head. A starved puppy, shivering on the brink of death—now it sat peacefully on the counter as Chifuyu dried its fur with a cotton towel. All thanks to her efforts.

She listened quietly to the pitter patter of the droplets tapping on the glass door. They had seemed so violent as she rushed through the wet streets to reach any form of salvation; they had slapped her face and bitten at her cheeks while she secured the puppy in her arms. Knowing the dog was safe in Chifuyu's hands, she allowed herself to find calm in her surroundings and the sophisticated symphony the rain composed for her ears. She stood by, wringing her hands out of uneasiness, watching as the kind man still in his work apron patted the puppy dry. He moved with gentle fluidity to keep from harming the frail bundle of bones, and the reassuring look in his eyes lulled it to sleep. The world was whispering to [Name], asking her to cherish that moment of inviting peace.

By the time he'd fully weighted it and checked all over its body, [Name] had managed to completely accept the situation. Chifuyu poured the suitable dog food onto a small plate and allowed it to feast like it hadn't eaten in days—which it probably hadn't. With a gentle pat to the puppy's head, he beckoned [Name] to step closer to the counter. "Thank you for picking him up. I doubt he would've survived much longer out there."

"Oh, it's nothing," she argued in haste, knowing she had hesitated before saving its life, "I couldn't just leave him there under the rain."

"You'd be surprised at the amount of people that can. Genuinely, thank you for taking him. He'll appreciate it for the rest of his life, he'll thank you more than I can."

There was something. [Name] couldn't quite tell what it was, but something in Chifuyu's words and expression made the weight of the situation sink doubly. To have the trust and gratitude of a stranger between her fingers after so many years of missing the warmth of a hand. He spoke so sincerely, holding no malice to twist his sentences into sharp wires to stab [Name]'s chest. He believed in her despite not even knowing her name. There was no meaning in the strokes of her brushes or the scratches of her pencils; there had never been. There was no reason at all for the tears prickling the corner of her eyes. Emotions and feelings not meant for her to keep, tears not meant for her to weep, they gathered in her hands and rolled down her wrists.

Chifuyu scrambled, alarmed, searching for tissues or paper towels or anything because he'd just made a woman cry. He hadn't measured his ideas correctly and shoved a mountain of expectations onto her back without prior notice. "I—I'm sorry! Here—" he sighed in relief to himself when he found a package of tissues. His apologies didn't cease as he rounded the counter, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pressure you. I promise it's not as big a deal as I'm making it sound. Really!"

"No, it's fine, it's fine, don't worry. I'm sorry, I'm just a little overwhelmed, I don't even know why I'm crying."

As she accepted the tissues to wipe at her eyes, she really didn't know why she felt the corners of her mind closing in and her vocal cords tangling into a knot in her throat. She really didn't know. How could something so simple get underneath her skin? Before even encountering the trembling puppy, she had entertained the idea of dying with such solemn thoughts. How come she was now finding relief in the words of a stranger, hoping she'd wake up the next day to care for the dog eating on the counter? She never knew what she'd been born for, but it now became so crystal clear. That dog, that man, that moment; she was aware she'd been waiting for it all to happen.

[Name] sniffled while wiping the last of her tears. Her eyes locked with Chifuyu's before she could catch her own rudeness. She met his gaze clouded with concern and a dash of panic, piercing right through her with an intense blue she'd never seen among all the grey. Reflecting back from his irises, she saw she was meeting the hardened clay of years of shaping. Hands and events and griefs and lessons she didn't know of, all of them together had sculpted the person standing before her with brows bent in worry; all that time creating him, Chifuyu, a welcoming man whose name she didn't know yet, just so she could meet him that night.

He took a step back when her breathing evened out. His fingers reached behind his nape to cool down his embarrassment. "I'm really sorry, I really didn't mean to pressure you."

"No, really, I'm fine. It's no pressure, I'm sure I'll figure it out. Somehow."

And it was that dubious somehow that made Chifuyu frown to himself. She looked just like the drenched puppy he'd so carefully nurtured back to life. A palm on her cold shoulder, he grinned at her with comfort. "Leave it to me! I'll give you a hand. It's no easy feat to adopt a dog, I'll help you out." The concept of helping people, the offering of his time and effort came so easy to him. [Name] kept opening door after door of such a beautiful presence that made her want to stay alive a little longer.

"I… We… We'll be in your care." She slipped her humid phone from the pocket of her jeans with an unsure hand. Chifuyu accepted it and exchanged it for his own. Before she could even regret her own choices, she'd already saved her number among all his contacts. Her phone returned to her with Matsuno Chifuyu (XJ Land) displayed on the dull screen. She held back the scoff she wanted to spit towards the world—fuyu, seriously? What in that man could possibly resemble winter? Let alone a thousand of them.

"[Surname] [Name]," Chifuyu tested the characters for her name. [Name] blinked in surprise at the correct reading. He pocketed his phone and extended his hand towards her, offering a blinding smile. He chirped, "Nice to meet you, [Name]-san."

It felt warm. It felt so warm and so right. It felt like she'd been waiting all her life just to shake hands with him. She came to meet Chifuyu and she wanted to know him with purpose.

[thewryabyss]

Red Light, Green Light: An Undertale/Deltarune Fan Fiction (Prologue)

The child in the striped shirt was one of the first to be there.

It was a strange existence, back then - there was no world around them at first, only white. It was so white that they were blinded whenever they opened their eyes. There was nothing at all - nothing to see, nothing to touch, nothing to smell or hear. 

Then, there were others. They still didn't dare open their eyes lest they be blinded, but they could sense them. Somehow, they knew these people's names instinctively, though they didn't know why - Toriel, Asgore, Asriel, many more...

As time went on, the memories grew stronger, and as they did the light grew darker. Until one day, the child could open their eyes. And the first sight they ever saw was amazing and horrifying.

It was a world half-built, a glaring whiteness spotted all over with black and blue and red. Chunks of land, buildings, inexplicably darkened areas - so many of them hanging among the whiteness.

There were people, too - many of them, all just waking up, just like the child. The child spoke to some of them. Someone asked the child their name - and they paused. But then, the answer came to them, clear as day.

Chara.

Their name was Chara.

The world changed so quickly, and yet so slowly. The building of towns, forests, rivers - all of it seemed to take an instant, and an eternity. But one day, it all stopped. 

And then everyone was gone.

They were whisked away just like that, gone to all corners of this strange, freshly-built world, leaving Chara alone in the dark. 

They were confused at first, and scared - but some part of them deep inside ordered them to stay calm, to be stoic, to wait their turn. 

And then memories started to surface, one by one.

And suddenly, Chara knew who they were.

They were the last hope. They were the final punishment. They were the executioner. 

They were there to ERASE.

And following this realization, everything descended into thick and suffocating blackness.

After a while, Chara realized exactly what the darkness was. It wasn't a bad omen, in fact - it was a good sign, because it meant that the universe was player-free, if only for a while. They were overjoyed to finally spend time with their own - but there was one single issue.

Nobody could move in the darkness.

Only those who knew of the darkness could move within it.

And Chara was one of them.

Chara understood, after a while, that the others didn't remember resets. It was painful, but at least they had Sans and Flowey. Well, Sans, at least - Flowey was as sarcastic as ever no matter the occasion, and that wasn't helpful. Sans was usually too lazy to do much to help, but if Chara was in a bad place, he'd be there if only to listen.

But Chara resented this.

They resented the game. They resented us as well - how dare they play with people like toys? thought Chara of us one day, kicking the wall of MTT Resort. 

And it wasn't fair that we got to reset, either - nobody stood a chance when we decided to go Genocidal. So many times, Chara had seen Papyrus's smiling head cleaved from his shoulders, or Undyne melting away from Determination. 

They had seen many pacifist runs as well, but those never could make up for  genocides and dark neutrals. Chara shuddered just thinking of it - but deeper inside than anyone could see, a deep anger was burning.

And one day, they made a decision.

The others warned them against it, but Chara would never listen.

They marched across the entire game map, with Sans and Flowey trailing behind, and they told Toriel. 

Then Napstablook, then Papyrus, then Muffet, and many more.

And before long, the entire underground knew the true nature of their lives.

It was chaos for a while. Some refused to believe what they were told, some became fearful and depressed, and a few simply snapped. It was all Chara, Flowey  and Sans could do to get them all back in line in time to continue the game. But over time, they all accepted it - and a deep sadness hung over the world, as everybody seemed to accept their fate.

But Chara was no fool. And they knew that this gloomy peace couldn't last forever. But what could possibly break it?

They didn't know. But they vowed to find a way out of this dark and miserable world.

For Asriel.

For their parents.

For everyone else trapped here.

Chara would free them all one day.

No matter what.

[twstgabrielle]

Reading Guidelines and Warnings: The 12 boys will be addressed by their full names unless they're speaking to each other or to one another. The Rise boys will be addressed via nicknames and other variants of said names. Also there will be spoilers for both shows as well as blood, injuries, major character death, gore, language, fights and violence. If any of this makes you uncomfortable I highly encourage y'all to check out my other works.

Darkness.

It was all that surrounded him, an inky blackness that blinded him. Mikey looked around the darkness that surrounded him, light brown hues scanning for anything that was familiar, only to be met with silence and the abyss of nothingness. The air around him was tense and made his dark green skin crawl in an unnerved way. The fourteen year old began to make his way through the darkness, becoming more desperate the more he was met with nothing. Soon he was running, shouting out the names of his brothers and friends, hoping for someone to answer him other than the eerie silence of the void that he found himself in. Before he realized it his eyes began to burn slightly, his body trembling as he realized just how truly alone he was in this place. The box turtle wanted nothing more than to find his brothers, to find his father, April, their friends, anyone really. As Mikey wiped at his eyes to clear them of the tears that had begun to build he suddenly caught something from the corner of his eye.

Turning his head towards it he was met with a sight that filled him with relief instantly. A light, bright and beckoning shined ahead of him. The fourteen year old boy didn't hesitate to start running towards the light, its glowing presence being the only thing that was keeping him from being swallowed by the hopeless and oppressive silent dark that he was in. As Mikey ran towards the light and drew closer to it he realized that the light was actually chains. The chains shined and pulsed with an orange glow, the sounds of their rattling filling his ears. Mikey pushed himself more reaching out to touch them.

'Come on I'm almost there-! Just a little bit more-'

He'd thought only to have it be cut off as his foot caught onto something, making him fall onto the ground with a harsh whooshing noise. Mikey let out a hiss of pain, his forearms sore from the fall. Forcing himself to sit up the orange turtle turned his head towards his feet, light brown hues searching for the object that had tripped him......

Only to let out a horrific scream.

The object that had tripped him, wasn't an object at all. No it was a corpse, torn apart and bleeding from several wounds and slices all over its body. The glowing chains shore down on the body, lighting up a familiar face with a blue bandana, red strips and lifeless light blue eyes staring blankly upwards. The sight chilled Mikey down to his very bones as he realized that this body was his older brother.

It was Leo.

"LEO-!!!"

Mikey screamed, scrambling over towards Leo to try and help him, even though deep down he knew that it was already too late. Dark green hands began to press onto the sluggishly bleeding wound, covering them in their crimson shade. Mikey fought the tears as he saw the broken and torn shell, pieces of teal broken off and scattered around Leo's body. As Mikey tried to save the corpse that was once his older brother, the box turtle finally took notice of his surroundings, his heart sinking in his chest as he realized that there were other forms that surrounded him. Completely out of sight orginally but now in view due to the mystical chains that were nearby, showed the torn and mangled corpses of his older brothers, Raph and Donnie. Donnie was on his side, his battle shell nothing more than shreds along with his actual shell. Raph was close by, his shell smashed and broken so much that he was nothing more than a pile of broken and torn shell bits. But they weren't the only ones, there were others, the bodies of the older turtles were amongst them. Raphael was close to Donnie's body, completely broken and ruined and in a similar state just like Mikey's brothers. A bit further away from them, laying next to Raph was Donatello and Michelangelo, the two's bodies barely recognizable and ruined by the same wounds that littered the others. Mikey felt his breathing begin to speed up, hyperventilating as he could only look at the corpses of the people who he knew and loved. As the orange turtle began to gasp and wheeze in his building panicked and grief stricken hysteria he finally took note that there was someone missing amongst the carnage that laid before him.

Leonardo wasn't with them.

Mikey felt his stomach sink as he realized this, shakily forcing himself to stand up now desperate to locate Leonardo before the same fate befell him as well. Mikey ran towards the glowing chains, his heart racing when he heard the pained cry of a crocking voice that belonged to the oldest Hamato. Mikey's head snapped towards the cry, his light brown eyes landing on the figure of Leonardo, the older turtle's swords were drawn, and he was leaning heavily on one of his legs, the other looking bruised and swollen and out of place. Mikey let out a shout of the older turtle's name, causing Leonardo's dark blue eyes to snap towards him. The look of dread that appeared on the usually calm and confident leader made Mikey's heart stop and his blood freeze in his veins.

"MIKEY-! RUN GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE-"

Leonardo had begun to shout his voice cracking. As he shouted arms full of sharp, jagged bone like blades came from the darkness behind the blue clad leader, their forearms glowing with pulsating greenish teal veins.

"LEONARDO LOOK OUT-!!"

Mikey screamed out a warning but it was too late. As Leonardo turned around, those sharp bladed bones pierced the blue turtle's chest plate. The sounds of the shell cracking and breaking filled Mikey's ears, and the box turtle could only watch in muted horror as Leonardo grasped weakly at the forearm that had stabbed him, his fingers digging into the glowing veins. Blood began to pool around the chest wound, dripping down onto the ground, a thin crimson stream flowing from the corner of his mouth as he gasped and wheezed in a wet way. The arm flung Leonardo to the side with an insane and enraged roar, the blue clad turtle flying like a broken and bleeding doll as his body landed in front of Mikey's feet with a sickening cracking noise. Dark blue eyes looked at him with a fading light and Mikey let out a pained scream. The orange turtle went to go to the dying turtle only to be grabbed from behind by limbs made of rotting flesh and stale blood and the same glowing greenish teal substance from the arm that had killed the others. Mikey began to struggle against the limbs, the scent of blood and death filling his nose as he clawed at them, desperate to get away and to get to Leonardo. However he was dragged down, causing Mikey to catch a glimpse of the creatures of nightmares that were currently gripping him so tightly. Eyes filled with nothing but death and mystic energy filled his vision as they hissed and snarled at the teen. The orange clad turtle struggled more, suddenly catching sight of those monsters surrounding Leonardo. Their clawed hands grabbed at the older turtle's chest plate and began to tear the shell from him, exposing his chest for them. Mikey went to let out a hysterical and furious screech, to tell them to get away from Leonardo when pain suddenly consumed him.

The younger turtle let out a pained scream as his arms and hands were consumed by an unholy pain, the energy that was tearing into them familiar yet foriegn to him.

'It shouldn't feel like this, it should be warm and comforting, but it's burning, it's burning my arms and hands down to the very bone, make it stop please make it stop-!'

The thought screamed in agony in his head as he tried to get free. Mikey's gaze flickered towards his hands and his stomach rolled in a panicked nauseous feeling as he watched his hands began to crack in an orange mystic energy. Spiderweb cracks crawled up his arms, burning him in their wake. The creatures that were holding him began to tear at him as well, the glowing chains that he'd so desperately followed rattled loudly at his pain and distress. Mikey could only watch in horror and fear as he was consumed by the cracks, his whole body shattering into a little pieces with one last pained scream before he was nothing more than unrecognizable bits and pieces.

~~~~~

Mikey woke up in a wheezing gasp, blindingly trying to get a glimpse of his surroundings despite the dark room he was in. Pinprick light brown pupils frantically shot around the room, his heart pounding harshly in his chest. The orange turtle managed to catch glimpses of the familiar sofa and VHS player and ancient TV that made up the older turtles living room, making him let out a rattling breath before he looked for his brothers. It didn't take him long to put together the familiar snores and soft breathing of his older brothers who were fast asleep in their nest of blankets and pillows. Mikey felt his heart begin to slow down as he nervously forced himself to look at his hands and arms, expecting to see the burning spiderweb cracks that had made him shatter into bits and pieces. However all he was greeted with was his familiar dark green scaly skin, unblemished by cracks or burning mystical flames.

'It's okay, I'm okay, we're okay, I'm in the lair, my brothers and friends are fine they aren't.....they aren't......aren't what......?'

The box turtle's thoughts began to slow down as the adrenaline died down and the once vivid, realistic nightmare faded away. As he tried to recall what it was about he found himself unable to, almost as if the nightmare itself had never existed. All that remained of the night terror was the sensation of his hands and arms itching somewhat and a horrid sense of uneasiness that had settled over him like a weighted blanket. Before Mikey even realized it, the fourteen year old had already began to lay back down amongst the warm blankets and pillows, his eyes drooping as exhaustion began to take him once more, before he finally drifted off into an restless sleep once more.

~~~~~

Patrol night.

It was a rather uneventful time Mikey had come to learn rather quickly in the past three weeks. After the first week of staying in his friend Michelangelo's home and Donnie and Donatello still coming up with no answers to getting them home, Leonardo had decided to get them used to the area around the younger turtles. Mikey and his brothers began to familiarize themselves with the sewer systems that ran beneath the city, as well as train vigorously under Leonardo's watchful and wise eyes. By the time the second week had started up Leonardo and his brothers had began to show them the ropes of their nightly duties for patrols, splitting the younger teens up with one of the older ones so no one would get lost. It also served to have two sets of eyes on the lookout for any suspicious activity within the city or for any sightings of the Kraang.

Which is why the youngest Hamato was standing next to Raph in the sewer tunnels waiting for the pair ups to be given out to the group of eight. The orange turtle stared at his hands quietly, not really speaking much unless he was directly spoken to. From the moment he'd woken up this morning, Mikey had been in a somewhat unsettled kind of haziness, going through the motions automatically rather than his usual efforts. He'd also been sticking rather close to his older brothers and friends, quietly sneaking glances at them to make sure that they were okay. Though his eyes lingered the most on Leonardo, for what reason he didn't really know. All he knew was that whenever the blue leader would disappear from sight Mikey would instantly feel a sense of dread settle on him, making him even more spooked than he originally was. Mikey was pulled from his thoughts by Leonardo's voice speaking up making the group go quiet.

"Alright, tonight we'll get ourselves paired up and go to different sections of the city and keep a look out for anything. It'll just be us tonight seeing as how April has the night shift."

The leader said his voice crackling a bit. Mikey looked up at the others, noting how Leonardo was standing in front of the group as he addressed them all. Raphael, ever the watchful shadow of the blue clad turtle was leaning against the wall, looking all the image of impatience. Donatello was next to the shorter red turtle, speaking quietly to Donnie as the two geniuses fiddled with Donatello's TPhone and Donnie's wrist communicator. Michelangelo was on the other side of his older brother Leonardo, his baby blues zoned in on the box turtle in hidden concern. Mikey couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for making the older orange clad turtle worried about him and shot him a semi smile to try and ease his companion. Michelangelo just gave him a small look before reluctantly tearing his gaze off of the youngest of them all.

Mikey let out a silent sigh of relief before he finally looked at his remaining two older brothers who were the closest to him and quietly conversing with one another, their own eyes flickering on the baby of their family every so often. Mikey didn't get a chance to think too much on it when Leonardo spoke up again.

"First pair off, Mikey and Raph. You two will cover the rundowned parts of the city."

The oldest Hamato said gesturing at Raph and Michelangelo. Michelangelo shot his older brother a smile and a thumbs up.

"Sounds good to me bro!"

The older orange turtle chirped.

"Raph and Mike's got this in the bag."

The snapping turtle chimed in a snaggletooth grin on his face. Leonardo gave them both a small smile before continuing.

"Next to pair up will be Donnie and Leo. You two will be in charge of town square."

Leonardo directed at Donatello and Leo. The purple genius looked up then, reddish brown eyes full of a split second of confusion before he'd processed what his older brother had said.

"Ah roger that Leo."

Donatello replied before going back to his fiddling with Donnie on their tech.

"Next to go, Donnie and I-"

Leonardo began to say only to be interrupted.

"NO-!"

A voice, full of hysterical panic shouted, the volume so loud it echoed in the tunnels, causing the seven other turtles to jump out of their skin in surprise. Several pairs of eyes drifted to the source of the sudden raised voice, which had belonged to none other than Mikey. The box turtle in question didn't even seem to notice just how freaked out he'd sounded. All that Mikey was aware of was the loud rushing sound of blood in his ears and the slight tremors in his arms as panic overtook him for one moment. As soon as he had heard that the oldest Hamato wouldn't be within sight anymore Mikey, for a reason he couldn't understand nor explain had completely rejected it. The very thought of Leonardo leaving his sights had filled him with a foreboding sense of dread. Mikey suddenly realized how quiet it was and finally took notice of the other's expressions. Raph, Leo and Donnie were staring at him in an unsettled elderly brotherly concern, their eyes burning holes into him. Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo on the other hand looked completely unnerved by Mikey's outburst, unsure on how to respond to it having never had the youngest react in such a manner.

Leonardo on the other hand looked surprised, or rather startled by Mikey's loud rejection, his dark blue eyes boring into the box shell in an unreadable way, obversing the situation before him and seemingly thinking of the options he had. Mikey suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable with the stares and quickly went to fix the atmosphere he'd unintentionally created.

"I mean....! It's just I haven't had a chance to pair up with Leonardo yet, and I think that I should get a chance to....."

Mikey explained his voice wavering a bit as he saved face. Leonardo just continued to look at him, searching for something that Mikey couldn't even begin to guess before he caught the eye of Leo. The two blue turtles seemed to have a brief silent conversation, dark blue hues speaking with light blue ones. After a beat Leonardo's gaze flickered back to Mikey before it softened slightly. Leonardo glanced over to Raphael, dark blue meeting bright green.

"Well Raph, do you mind us switching partners for tonight's patrol?"

The blue leader asked.

"Don't matter to me fearless, I just want to get this show on the road. Tired of standing around and not doing anything."

The red turtle responded, gruff in his usual way. Leonardo nodded satisfied before he continued.

"Alright, me and Mikey will partner up. We'll be in charge of the harbor and docks section of the city. And that just leaves Raph and Donnie as the last pair up. You two will be on the lookout near the city's cemetery."

The oldest finished earning nods and sounds of confirmation. At that moment Donatello piped up having gotten over his unsettled response to Mikey's earlier outburst.

"Also remember that your TPhone that I'd made for you guys has the new energy reading system that me and Donnie programmed as well as the emergency homing signal should anyone be in need of help."

The purple genius addressed making his younger counterpart chime in.

"Just press the button at the bottom of the TPhone to enact the signal and the team closest to you will be able to reach your location. Also when an energy surge happens the phones will alert you to it and track down the source of it or at least make an estimate of where it's coming from. Now is there any questions?"

The soft shell asked his dark brown eyes scanning the others looking for anyone objecting or wanting to ask a question. Getting silence in return Donnie nodded and went back to his fiddling of his wrist communicator.

"Alright, let's move out then! And remember, we're not to be seen by any humans!"

Leonardo commanded and with that the teams split up and headed down in different directions of the sewer tunnels. But not before they'd casted concerned looks towards the box turtle who didn't comment or acknowledge them, instead nervously shimmying in his place as he waited for Leonardo to take the lead. Seeing the oldest Hamato give him a silent nod before beginning to head down in the direction towards the docks, Mikey scrambling to catch up with him refusing to be left behind and have the silent turtle leave his sight. As the two descended into the dark, wet tunnels, their footsteps making an echoing splashing noise, Mikey couldn't help but feel a sudden sense of impending and foreboding dread settle within his chest plate.

'It's fine, we'll be fine. Relax Miguel.'

He told himself yet no matter how much he tried the feeling persisted.

~~~~~

The New York harbor was a rather dark and crowded place. Filled with empty storage units and boats meant for shipping things and whatnot parked near the piers. The sounds of the ocean waves and seagulls filled Mikey's ears as he crouched down by Leonardo who had not spoken a word the entire time. The duo had been patrolling the docks for a few hours now, seeing nothing but the birds and old fishing nets and boats. They would move whenever one of the night workers would come to close to them unknowingly, sticking to the shadows and remaining silent as to not draw unnecessary attention to themselves. For the past few hours they'd come up empty handed, having gained no leads nor clues to the Kraang nor the mysterious power surges. Mikey leaned against the crate he was currently hiding behind with Leonardo, his mind wandering from the current situation and instead focusing on the emotions he was currently feeling.

From the moment he and the blue clad turtle had gotten to the harbor the sense of dread and foreboding that had settled in him had just grown stronger, almost to the point where he felt like he was only seconds away from tearing himself out of his skin. Mindlessly Mikey began to rub at his wrists, the scaly dark green skin hot and tight and almost unfamiliar.

"Hey are you alright? You've been rather quiet all evening."

A voice, harsh and ragged startled the box turtle from his thoughts and made his light brown gaze snap upwards. Dark blue eyes met his, a shine of concern yet caution within them. Leonardo who had originally been keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity had noticed his partner's lack of focus and had decided to address it. Mikey felt his cheeks warm slightly in embarrassment.

"Uh yeah I'm fine Leonardo. I've just.....been thinking is all."

The orange turtle replied his voice soft spoken instead of his normal chipper cheer. The older turtle looked at him, an eyebrow quirked up as he just quietly and patiently waited for Mikey to continue on. The younger turtle felt himself start to shimmy slightly suddenly feeling exposed by the older blue turtle's seemingly knowing stare. Having Leonardo stare at him in such a manner reminded him scarily enough of his red eared slider brother Leo. This alternative turtle had the same focused and obversing gaze that Leo got on a few occasions and Mikey couldn't help it when his mouth opened up and he began to speak.

"I just.......I think I had a nightmare last night. And it's just left me feeling extremely uneasy. Which I know is silly but I can't just seem to shake it off."

Mikey finally admitted feeling a bit better.

"Can you tell me what it was about?"

Leonardo asked his voice soft and gentle, making Mikey relax a bit more.

"That's the thing. I can't remember what it was about. All I know is that it......it really shook me up."

The youngest Hamato admitted. Leonardo seemed to stare at the younger turtle for a beat seemingly thinking before finally responding.

"That's understandable. It must have been an awful nightmare if it leaves you spooked. But it'll be okay Mikey, even if it doesn't seem like it will be right now, it'll be okay. It was just a nightmare and it's okay to be scared or uneasy from this kind of thing."

The oldest Hamato explained, his tone though rough and crackling every so often was full of wisdom and reassurance. The box turtle felt himself completely let his earlier stress go, suddenly at ease with Leonardo's words and comforting presence. It was strange how this turtle, who Mikey had barely spoken to in the last three weeks besides during training or small conversations could make him feel suddenly safe and secured. Like nothing in the world could get to him as long as Leonardo was around.

'He's a lot like Raph......just a comforting presence.'

The box turtle thought a small smile coming onto his face, showing a hint of his gap.

"Thanks Leonardo."

Mikey thanked him only to have the older turtle wave him off and pat his painted shell with a gentle yet firm hand.

"No need to thank me. And please, Leo's just fine."

The older replied offering his own small closed mouth smile. Mikey's smile grew and he gave a small nod.

"Alright Leo it is then."

The youngest chirped lightly. However the somewhat lighter atmosphere between them was shattered when the docks suddenly began to tremble, the crates and wooden piers giving rattling sounds. Mikey felt himself stumble forward from the tremors only for Leonardo to grab him by the back of his painted shell to stop him. Almost immediately Mikey felt metaphorical hairs raise on the back of his neck, his body stiffening from the sudden change in the air. He felt Leonardo tense up as well and before he could even figure out what that meant the sudden snap of the atmosphere around them followed by the quick shift of the energy around them quite nearly knocked them off their feet. The sudden sound of their TPhones going nuts snapped them out of their shock and Leonardo pulled his phone out flipping it open and messing with it.

"Energy surge, and it was close."

The leader mumbled as he typed at his TPhone, not even flinching when he felt Mikey somewhat hang over his shoulder to get a better look.

"Holy pizza supreme it was huge! We should check it out!"

The orange turtle said his heart racing at the prospect of finally having a lead to their long search. The earlier feelings he'd been feeling before being momentarily forgotten as the excitement of their discovery took a front row seat. Leonardo on the other hand was somewhat glaring at the screen a look of caution on his face once more.

"It was huge.......it seems almost convenient for it to go off here.......too convenient."

The older turtle commented making the other freeze. Light brown hues bore into the older one, confusion and now unease coming back full force force.

"You think that it's something that was planned?"

Mikey asked a bit surprised. The fourteen year old didn't even think it was possible for something this big to be planned. However the way his companion was still tense and uneasy made Mikey pause in his surprise.

"It could very well have been. For all we know it could be a trap for the two of us to walk in to."

The eighteen year old explained his gaze thoughtful as he pulled up the coordinates of where the energy surge was possibly located.

"But it could also be something entirely unrelated. And we just happened to be at the right place at the right time."

The younger turtle piped in trying to be optimistic about the situation even though the feeling of foreboding slowly creeping back up. However he shoved it down. He couldn't afford to let the shadows of a nightmare that he didn't even remember rattle him up, especially when he and Leonardo were now so close to having a lead after three weeks of silence. Leonardo quietly pondered what the box turtle said, weighing the options and the pros and cons of the situation. Mikey sat on pins and needles waiting with bated breath.

"......Alright how about this? We'll get a pinpoint location and go scout out the area. Get a feel for it and silently check things out. If it's what we're looking for we'll leave and contact the others. If it's a busted lead then we'll just have to wait for another opportunity. Seem fair to you?"

The blue leader asked earning a nod of agreement before he was startled by a small and quick hug from the turtle currently looking over his shoulder.

"Absolutely! Understood Leo, now let's go!"

Mikey enthused somewhat already hoping off and making a head start towards the direction that Leonardo's TPhone had given. It didn't take long for said turtle to follow after him, a new feeling of hope alight in them. Yet the hopeful flame was but a shadow of what it could have been as the sense of uneasiness and caution took root within them. The trip to the location took about an hour to get to, the duo being silent the entire time as they quietly ran through the docks and crates and storage units. As they drew closer towards their destination, Mikey began to notice the crippling state of the storage units, once shiny and well kept now becoming more rusted and broken looking, painted in graffiti and broken windows. The box turtle felt a shiver rock his body as they finally came to the possible location of the energy surge. Standing before them was an old, abandoned fish factory. The factory was filled with broken windows and littered with trash, broken cargo boxes, crates and rotting wooden boards. A pier was next to it, the ancient wood having been eating away at by the weather and sea. Broken glass bottles and pieces of the windows scattered around the front of the factory, it's old metal doors closed tightly. The old street lamps that lit the place up were completely dark and dead, their bulbs either having decayed or exploded.

The sounds of the ocean once calming now sounded ominous and the silence that surrounded the building was over looming the entire area, as if deterring anything in the living world from coming near it. Mikey felt his heart clench in his chest, the excitement that was once there for the possible lead all but extinguished by the unsettling building before them.

"Hey, are you okay Mikey? You're shaking."

Leonardo's voice scratchy and soothing piped up next to the fourteen year old. Mikey didn't look away from the building as he answered his question.

"I'm fine, just a bit unsettled is all. This place has some major creep vibes to it."

He answered his light brown eyes never leaving the factory.

"........If you're sure you're okay. Let's just take a quick look around and get out of here yeah?"

The eighteen year old soothed gently rubbing the younger's shell in a reassuring manner. Mikey took a deep breath forcing himself to calm down.

'It's just a quick in and out. We aren't staying here long. Just a quick look over and then we leave.'

He told himself pulling it together and getting a grip before standing up a bit more straighter.

"Let's do this."

The box turtle said, determined to see this through. The older turtle gave him another long searching look before nodding in agreement.

"Alright then. Remember we move silently, and we stick together. No wandering off and if there's even a hint of a threat we try to avoid conformation unless it's absolutely necessary."

The older teen addressed making sure that the rules of their buddy system was remembered. With one last mental shove Mikey and Leonardo moved towards the building, silent as the grave before slipping through the doors and heading inside. As soon as Mikey stepped in he was hit with the scent of mold, rotting wood and stale sea salt and fish. The box turtle forced himself not to think too much about the smell, instead trying to get adjusted to the sudden darkness that greeted him and Leonardo. The sounds of water dripping onto the broken tiled floors and rusted metal staircases filled his ears. Feeling Leonardo's presence next to him and feeling his comforting touch on his arm, Mikey began to follow him further into the factory and into the darkness.

As the duo silently made their way through the abandoned building, and checking whatever they could for any sort of clues as well as tracking the energy surge's leftover signature, Mikey couldn't help but feel like he was reliving this entire experience all over again. Yet he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he felt this way. Instead he stuck close to Leonardo, refusing to leave his side as they began to search the upper floors of the factory, being careful not to make a sound or possibly fall off of the rusting stairs. Leonardo was looking at the TPhone once more, the bright screen having been turned down in its brightness so they wouldn't get caught.

"It says that the strongest point of the energy surge is at the top of the factory's floor. But I don't think it'll be safe enough to explore it given the condition of the place."

Leonardo said his voice barely above a whisper. Mikey gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement, happy that they wouldn't have to explore the rest of the upper floors. The box turtle was about to suggest something about exploring the lower levels of the place when the sudden loud sounds of the metal front doors creaking open filled the factory making both boys stiffen.

Someone was here.

Leonardo didn't hesitate to grab Mikey and drag them down silently to put them out of sight. The duo listened with bated breath as the front of the factory was filled with the somewhat lighter night outside and the sounds of footsteps echoing followed by voices filled the air.

"And you're positive that this will work?"

A voice masculine and old spoke into the darkness. Attached to it was a cloaked figure, his face and body shrouded in darkness and his hood. Next to him was a few men dressed in suits, each carrying something in their arms all except one who had it's chest open wide, exposing its innermost area. Sitting inside of the exposed chest was a strange pink creature with tentacle like limbs. It almost looked like a giant.......

"It's them, it's the Kraang. This must be a hideout."

Leonardo breathed making Mikey shiver a bit as he continued to look at the alien creature. There was something about it that was extremely unsettling and it made his skin crawl slightly looking at it.

"The ones who are known as Kraang can assure you that the Kraang's experiments will be successful. Thanks to the one known as Dr. Draxum, the Kraang's plans have been going well."

The Kraang replied. Mikey meanwhile sucked in a barely hidden breath as he felt his heart drop. Leonardo felt his sudden panicked unease, glancing over towards the younger teen only to see terrified brown eyes looking at him. In one look Leonardo knew that Mikey knew this Dr. Draxum and that there was some kind of relationship between him and this mysterious doctor.

'This just makes things even more complicated. Why would the Kraang take this Draxum?'

Leonardo pondered feeling like he was missing something extremely important.

"Excellent news. The master will be most pleased with this good news. He's been getting impatient with the lack of results from his experiments."

The hooded man said pleased with this. Mikey and Leonardo's attention was suddenly drawn away from the conversation when the loud sounds of metal slamming into the floor exploded throughout the factory. The Kraang and hooded man turned their attention towards the commotion just as the two turtles did. A large cage had been dropped partially onto the floor, the thing inside it letting out a raging, feral hissing screech, obviously not pleased with being dropped so suddenly.

"YOU FOOLS-! YOU KNOW THAT US KNOWN AS KRAANG CAN NOT AFFORD TO LOSE THE ONE WHO'S KNOWN AS DR. DRAXUM'S SUCCESSFUL EXPERIMENT-!"

The Kraang screeched angrily at its subordinates as it made its way to the cage to check out the damage. Mikey was pulled out of his staring by Leonardo's sudden pulling on his shell.

"We need to get out of here now."

Leonardo said. Mikey felt his heart stop at this and quickly gripped Leonardo's bicep.

"But-! They got Draxum-! We can't leave him here with them-! Leo-!"

Mikey began to hiss quietly and desperately only to be stopped by a gentle hand and an understanding gaze.

"And we will. But right now we don't know where he's at and if we get caught we'll be of no help to him. Now let's go."

Leonardo said silently urging Mikey to follow him quietly. Mikey gave him a conflicted look, his heart tearing into two as he fought with his heart and mind, before finally following behind Leonardo. The duo crouched down began to quietly make their way towards the back area of the factory, knowing that the front area was off limits. As the two turtles made their slow journey through the darkness, Mikey was suddenly greeted by a familiar stench. Flesh, rotting and decaying blood filled his nose, with the scent of mystic energy as well as an unfamiliar scent. Mikey covered his mouth fighting the sudden urge to hurl and nearly collapsed onto his knees startling Leonardo who had also caught wind of the horrific scent.

"Mikey-!"

Leonardo hissed terrified already going to help him back up when he froze, his dark blue eyes staring straight into the darkness.

"Mikey don't....move."

The blue leader said softly his gaze never leaving the darkness. The orange turtle froze at the command suddenly hyper aware of his surroundings. It didn't take long for the box turtle to figure out what was lurking in the darkness. The sounds of claws, sharp and long tapped along with the rusting metal platform they were on, a growling, feral hissing accompanying it. Mikey slowly turned his eyes towards the sounds and bit back the urge to vomit again in blatant fear. There standing only a few feet away from them was a monster. The creature was staring them down, its soulless, glowing eyes shining with crazed and murderous rage. Its body was rotting, a barely kept together project that would put Frankenstein's monster to shame. Blood as well as a strange greenish teal substance oozed out of its wounds. The monster stared at them, teeth bared as it drew closer to them. It didn't hesitate to lunge at them with a furious screech. Leonardo didn't even think, only reacted as he grabbed Mikey and flung them both out of the way. The sounds of their bodies hitting the rusting metal platform echoed in the factory and the sudden shouts of the Kraang screeched as they'd realized that something was in the factory other than them.

Their cover had been blown.

"MIKEY-! RUN-! NOW-!"

Leonardo's voice loud and cracking shook the box turtle out of his shock and sent him into autopilot. The duo went running, dashing down the platform as the monster hidden in the darkness pursued them. They ran through the darkness blindly before being forced to stop as the platform came to a stop, broken metal leading downwards into a dark hole that resided in the floor and into the lower levels of the building. Mikey and Leonardo turned back around towards the monster who now cornered them with a hissing snarl. Leonardo didn't hesitate to pull out his twin katanas and Mikey pulled out his nunchakus, already feeling that familiar mystic power flowing through him.

"Mikey, can you pull down that thing up there?"

Leonardo asked not daring to take his eyes off of the shadowed monster, as it drew closer waiting for it to strike. Mikey looked up to see a large box that was held by an ancient machine. Understanding what Leonardo was going for Mikey addressed it.

"Yeah, I can get it down!"

Mikey confirmed earning a hum of acknowledgement.

"Good, get it loose then. I'll distract this thing-! Now go-!"

The oldest Hamato commanded his tone leaving no room for arguments as he dashed towards the monster right as it began to go for the duo. The youngest Hamato was quick to respond, throwing his nunchakus out to wrap it around the large box and to get it loose. Once the chains were secured around it Mikey began to pull with everything he had. The sounds of claws meeting blades filled his ears and Mikey risked a glance to Leonardo to make sure he was okay. The blue clad leader was vicious in his fighting, his blades meeting the monster's claws with a deadly accuracy. The two clashed and fought, the creature managing to move gracefully despite its fearl like behavior. Mikey couldn't help but be stunned by Leonardo's skill, the oldest Hamato swinging his swords in a graceful manner, creating a deadly dance between him and this monster. Mikey shook himself out of his stunned stupor and continued to pull at the box, his nunchakus chains lighting up in their mystic flames to help get it loose. As Mikey pulled, fighting with everything he had the sudden violent shaking of the platform next to him nearly made him stumble. Snapping his head around Mikey let out a startled scream as another one of those things had jumped from the other platform onto his. The box turtle didn't have enough time to get his weapons free before the monster's sharp jagged claws swung downwards in an arch.

The fourteen year old didn't think, only acted as he flung his arm block it. It was instantaneous, the pain that flew up his left forearm, burning and raw hit him like a train. He felt the blood well up instantly and knew almost immediately that the creature had dug into the flesh of his forearm rather deeply, most likely hitting the bone. Mikey let out a pained scream of agony stumbling back a bit from it. Leonardo who was still fighting the other monster snapped his head around catching sight of Mikey who was now bleeding heavily and clutching his forearm and desperately trying to get the box free. The monster that attacked him went to strike him again, aiming for a killing blow this time......

Leonardo didn't think.

He moved on pure instinct.

Eyes flashing white Leonardo swung his sword down onto his opponent earning a pained scream and enough of a distraction for him to rush towards Mikey, his sharp black katanas raised and he swung downwards slicing the monsters arms clean off. A screech of fury echoed and the monster lunged at him, bleeding stale blood and greenish teal substances. Leonardo held his sword up, impaling the monster as it lunged for him and Mikey before kicking it over the side of the platform, the sounds of its dying body smacking off of the other lower platforms echoing. Leonardo panted his swords stained, his gaze turning to check and see if Mikey was okay only for the orange turtle's terrified scream to sound out.

"LEO BEHIND YOU-!"

The box turtle screamed. The older turtle whirled ready to fight when the monster with all its strength swung out its leg and slammed it straight into Leonardo's knee. The sounds of bones snapping out of place and the pained hissing snarl of agony from the blue clad turtle sounded out his injured knee forcing him to go down due to the bones. Leonardo braced himself for the monster to strike him when the sounds of the box finally breaking free and smashing into the monster's body, crushing it immediately filled the air. The platform they were on instantly began to crumble and suddenly the two were free falling straight towards the hole in the floor. Mikey felt his heart pound in his chest as the horrid sense of deja vu tore through him. He felt arms wrap around him.

"MIKEY TUCK IN YOUR SHELL NOW-!!"

Leonardo's voice shouted cracking harshly in his panic and fighting to be heard. The orange turtle tucked himself into his shell, his arm screaming in protest while Leonardo wrapped himself around the box shell turtle, as the blue and orange turtles disappeared into the darkness completely out of sight, the only thing coming from it being the loud sickening cracking noise of two shelled bodies hitting the ground.

~~~~~

Draxum stared at the wall of his cell, his golden eyes narrowed menacingly as he tried to think of a way to escape. The sheep yokai had been in this cell for a good while now, only allowed to leave it when those pink creatures or the hooded humans needed him in their lab. Having been dragged to this alternate place, he'd come to learn that the thieves who'd stolen his research where these aliens who called themselves the Kraang. The Kraang along with an unknown ally had been experimenting with his ooze recipe and mixing it with something called mutagen. Added with mystic energy and spiritual prowess it'd created those things that had attacked him on his way home. Draxum unconsciously ran his fingers over the jagged scars on his cheek, four claw marks from the ringleader behind it all.

'Insane fools. They're all insane the lot of them.'

He thought venomously. The sheep yokai hated the situation he found himself in, unable to really resist when all he'd get for it was hit or kicked around till he was a bloody broken mess of bruises and pain. Draxum rubbed at the newest injury he'd received for making a nasty remark to one of the hooded humans. The black and blue bruise throbbed as he recalled how the human had kicked him right in the ribs as hard as they could.

'When I get out of this cursed place I will make them regret everything they've ever done.'

He silently promised already planning his revenge on the pathetic aliens and humans who dared to kidnap him and then beat him. Draxum knew that these kinds of thoughts would mostly likely be frowned upon by the rat and his sons and the O'Neil girl but at this point in time he could care less about it. As he stewed in his mental musings the sounds of the metal doors to his cell made his ears perk. Draxum instantly tensed ready to attack anyone who so much as stepped an inch near him. A hooded figure stood at the door, their faced hidden in the shadows.

"The master has requested your presence Dr. Draxum."

The human feminine spoke gesturing towards the door so she could escort him to the master. Draxum glared wanting to tell her to burn in the seven hells when he realized what she'd said.

The master wanted to see him.

This was new. From the moment Draxum had been dragged here he'd never once met the master of these people. He'd only heard whispers of this elusive master and how he was in need of his scientific knowledge. While the sheep yokai wanted nothing more than to rebel against this woman he couldn't help but wonder if this could work out in his favor.

'Perhaps I can make this master let me go. If I can just get close to him and use my vines.....'

He thought already forming a plan of escape. Giving the hooded woman a sharp golden glare he stiffly followed her out of the cell. The two made their way towards the upper floors, passing by other hooded humans and ninjas with footprints on their backs. The hallways were filled with the same symbol, along with other oriental weapons and armor as they made their way through the corridors. After a few minutes of walking silently they stopped by a large door, the hooded woman bowing slightly.

"The master awaits you."

She said softly. Draxum gave her another glare already getting himself prepared for a fight as he slowly pushed open the doors. He barely stepped inside the room when he was grabbed and pinned down. Draxum began to struggle calling out his vines to get them off of him when the sound of something clipping around his neck filled his ears. Immediately after it was placed his mystic powers seemed to completely disappear, almost as if they'd never existed at all.

"What in the seven hells?!?! What have you placed on me you insolent fools-"

Draxum began to snarl, clawed hands going to rip into one of the people who'd held him down when a voice, familiar yet unfamiliar spoke up.

"It's a mystic powers removal collar. I thought it'd be needed once you were here and it seems that I was correct. I'll have to thank that spider for her sale, she wasn't lying when she said it'd do it's job."

The voice, accented and deep and somewhat rusty sounding made Draxum stiffen. He knew this voice, had heard it yell at him and get on his case about the boys and many other things. He'd heard it daily.

'Lou Jitsu......?'

He thought, suddenly extremely uneasy as he realized that while this voice was somewhat the same it had a much more menacing, crueler edge to it. Forcing himself up more from the ground to get a better look he was met with a mutant tiger. The mutant was large and imposing, sitting on the seat like he was made for it. One of his arms was made of metal and he was missing his tail and his gaze held nothing but pure disdain.

"I'm glad to have you here Dr. Draxum. Your expertise is severely needed in what I wish to accomplish."

The tiger said his voice low and rumbling like thunder.

"From this day forward I shall be your new master. You may call me Master Tigerclaw, leader of the Foot clan."

The mutant, Tigerclaw introduced himself. Draxum meanwhile froze.

'The Foot clan??? He's the leader of the Foot clan in this world?? But what about the Shredder???'

He thought his thoughts rushing a mile a minute as he sent a withering glare at the mutant.

"Like hell you're my master! I have no master and I will never give you what you ask for."

The sheep yokai snarled murderously. Tigerclaw just gave him a blank look before crouching down and harshly grabbing Draxum's face in between his fingers forcing him to look at him.

"Oh but I believe you will. After all Dr. Draxum......you don't have a choice in the matter."

Tigerclaw said staring straight into the sheep yokai's soul.

"You are going to obey me, otherwise that family of yours will no longer be apart of this world."

Tigerclaw continued making Draxum see red at the threat towards Splints and the boys.

"IF YOU SO MUCH AS-"

Draxum hissed in furious, murderous rage before he was cut off by a harsh yank.

"Just do as I say and no harm will come to them Dr. Draxum. Now........your first assignment......"

The Foot clan leader said letting go of Draxum's face and straightening himself up before heading towards a covered metal cage that sat quietly in the corner of the room. Draxum felt a sudden chill crawl up his spine as he watched Tigerclaw pull off the covering of the cage.........

The sudden dread and horror that hit the sheep yokai would never be able to describe the bombshell of emotions he'd felt at what Tigerclaw said next.

"Meet Hamato Yoshi. Or rather.......Master Splinter."

*Throws this bad boy down. I told y'all you were gonna hate me in the near future lol. I'm so sorry that this took so long, work and personal life have been going at me. Not to mention that I was literally struggling for like a month to make the this work (I ended up having to switch the dream sequence with the patrolling) and then Tumblr had deleted my draft so I had to rewrite it and writing for Kraang oof. Also I have a few Easter eggs in here if you figure them out you get a cookie. Yeah it's been extremely rough my friends but I hope that the wait was worth it. Anyways if any y'all read this I hope you enjoyed it!!*

[the-modern-typewriter]

i absolutely love your work! could you please write about a boy who walks into his and his boyfriend’s room, only to find him having an affair with someone else? i don’t know if you’re comfortable with picking this up since most of your stuff is fantasy/heroes and villains. have a good day!

At first, Nathan couldn't quite figure out what he was looking at. The longer he stared, the less it seemed to make sense, like staring at an image for so long that all of the individual elements blurred.

The sound of ragged breath and low, stifled moans. The caress of hands illuminated by shafts of sunlight through the window and the press of warm, wet lips along the arched curve of a pale throat. The bedsheets, which he'd given Andrew, rumpled beneath the rock of hips.

He stared, and they didn't even notice him.

Andrew's eyes were shut, so part of Nathan clung to the absurd thought that maybe it wasn't actually him. Maybe it was someone else who simply looked like his boyfriend, but once he opened his eyes they would be blue instead of the same forest green as the duvet. He knew what his boyfriend's body looked like, though.

Nathan knew the other body, too, though with less intimacy. He'd seen him cutting through water at Andrew's side, another swimmer on the team, strong and driven. His back was broad, tanned, tapering at the waist. Nathan had seen that bare back so many times.

"Will." The name was a choked gasp in Andrew's mouth, a plea, an unravelling. His fingers tightened in Will's hair, a pale blonde to Nathan's brown, clutching hold of him like a buoy.

Nathan stumbled back a step on leaden legs, out of the door he'd opened. His ears were ringing. He opened his own mouth, to say something, clear his throat, but nothing would come out. He willed himself to look away as the haze cleared in his brain, but he couldn't. He couldn't.

He didn't think he'd ever heard Andrew say his name like that.

He stumbled away another step, and this time the sound must have caught their attention, because they faltered.

Nathan turned, in blind panic, letting the bedroom door shut like a broken spell. Out. He had to get out. He needed air. He needed to breathe. He could hear more sounds from behind him, a murmured, "it's nothing" and Nathan felt like that, he felt like he was nothing at all, but then his footsteps were pounding down the cramped stairs and heading for the door.

He was barely outside when Andrew had caught up with him, with his long swimmer’s legs; his hair mussed, no-shirt, just pyjama bottoms thrown on haphazardly at one in the afternoon.

"Nathan," Andrew called after him. "Nate."

Nathan rounded on him, his fists clenched hard enough to hurt.

Andrew faltered at his expression, at whatever he saw there, his spine straightening tall. "I - I didn't expect you back until later."

"Clearly."

Andrew winced, wetting his lips. They were still red from kisses, from someone else's kisses, a little swollen from the force. He looked wrecked. Ravished.

"I was going to tell you."

Nathan heard himself scoff, like it was someone else doing it. Still, anger was good, right? Anger was better. Anger wasn't his insides crumpling, so small, so damn nothing.

"It just happened," Andrew said.

"How many times?"

Andrew floundered, at that question, and Nathan could practically see his mind working, calculating in the pure panic. Nathan was almost offended that he was so sure he wouldn't get caught that he hadn't done his homework and prepped all of his excuses and speeches and statistics early. Nathan would have at least have had the decency to figure out what bullshit he'd say, if it was him. He'd have come up with a nice lie, and polished it into something almost pretty.

Once, Nate. It happened once. That was the only proper answer to 'it just happened'. Anything more was not 'just happening'.

Andrew said nothing, staring at him, a little helplessly like he thought Nathan was still going to come in and fix his crap for him. Be the logical, reasonable, one. Part of Nathan wanted to.

The other part of him tried to shove the thought away, because it chipped at the anger, it made his throat lock tight and he was not going to cry. It was stupid to cry. He was not going to cry.

The door opened again, and Will stepped out. He looked much more put together, effortless, and Nathan loathed him for it. His clenched fist itched to punch. No one got to wreck someone's relationship in a goddamn white t-shirt and blue jeans, like some kind of disgusting cliché.

Nathan shook his head, taking another step back.

"Oh, don't run," Will said, sounding a little irritated at the interruption, frankly. No doubt he'd been having a wonderful afternoon before Nathan came along! "He'll chase you across campus with no clothes on, and it will be embarrassing for all of us. You know it."

Andrew shot Will a look at that, his cheeks flushing.

That was the other thing. Will was an asshole. It would be one thing if Andrew cheated on him with someone genuinely charming, but Will?! Nathan didn't even like Will, out of all of Andrew's swim team buddies. Annoyingly, the bastard probably wasn't wrong.

"Like, he loves you, mate." Will at least sounded like he had his lines prepared, almost as much as he sounded like he didn't really care that Nathan's heart was breaking. "Adores you. You're just shit in bed, you know?"

"Will." Andrew sounded wrecked for a different reason now. "Go inside. You're not helping."

"Oh, come on. He needs to know."

Andrew looked ready to cry, or start yelling. Nathan didn't think he could take Andrew crying, because that would really be the kicker if they all had to stand around and comfort him.

Nathan shook his head, jerkily, trying to clear the memories from his brain. The good. The bad. The thought you were mine, thought we were doing better, the why the hell didn't you just talk to me?

Andrew looked to Nathan again. "Come inside." There was a note of pleading in his voice again, nothing delicious about it, just desperate. "We can talk about this."

Maybe they could. Maybe Andrew could give him the whole damn road map, and Nathan would turn it into data, and when it was data it wouldn't matter so much. He could do what he did best with data and make it fit. Make it make sense.

"Please," Andrew said. He shivered a little, even in the summer heat., and folded his arms He still had the audacity to look so damn gorgeous. "Nate. I'm sorry."

It took until he said it for Nathan to realise he hadn't started with that. Hadn't maybe even thought to say it until then.

Andrew hadn't looked sorry on that bed.

And maybe Nathan didn't want it to make sense, not yet. He didn't think he had the room in his brain.

"Make sure," he told Will, stupid Will, with his name like it was heaven in Andrew's mouth, "that he doesn't follow me. Yeah? You owe me that much."

And then Nathan walked away.

[yannowhatigiveup]

A Blinded Kiss

I haven’t posted anything recently so I dug around in my WIPs to see if anything was even worth posting and I found this that I made a while ago. It certainly isn’t the best but it isn’t the worst out of all my other WIPs.

"Is this really necessary?" The bluenette asked, eyeing a blindfold given by her brotherly figure.

"Of course it is Pixie!" An older man with two-toned hair replied, way too over enthusiastic about the whole situation. "It's a great way to find your way around the manor”

"And it's a great family bonding experience too!" Another man in the room replied, even more enthusiastic than the first.

"Fine, I'll do it Jay" the blue-eyed girl huffed, twirling the blindfold between her fingers. "What are the rules again, Dick?"

Dick beamed at the girl before answering. "Well Mari, it's simple. Put the blindfold on, count to fifty, spin around and try to steal a hug from anyone in the manor"

"So I have to walk around the manor blindfolded and try to sneak up on you? You know that's impossible!" Marinette exclaimed, she would not go around the house looking like a touch-starved fool.

"That's exactly why we're doing it" Jason replied, shrugging his shoulders. "It'll last a long time."

After a few seconds, the blue-eyed girl sighed, giving in to both Jason and Dick. "Fine, if that's what makes you happy" Marinette wrapped the matte-black fabric tightly around her eyes, already struggling within the first few seconds. She began counting and she heard the two scuffling away, smiling while being able to tell which direction they went in. In the mean time, Marinette debated her options.

'Both Jason and Dick would be the ideal choices but they'll be able to hear me from a mile away. Tim would be the most logical one since he's half asleep, but where does he even go in this maze? God knows where Alfred is, Mr Wayne is scary. Damian-' She paused her train of thoughts, granted Marinette had only met him a few days ago but that didn't stop the crush she had heavily try to cease. 'He'd probably hear me from a mile away as well. This game is so unfair'

Soon enough, Marinette reached fifty and spun herself around, she used a bit too much force than needed so now not only was she blinded but she lost her sense of direction. Giving herself a minute to recover, the bluenette began to walk. Using her improved senses, thanks to the miraculous, Mari was slowly able to create a theoretical map in her mind, though it did take much more energy than she desired.

"Fighting an akuma is easier than this" The bluenette muttered as she hit her thigh along the corner of a wall.

Even though she was using her enhanced abilities, she'd pump into a corner or a wall every now and again, the amount of times increased when her energy was being used. After wondering a hall for what seemed like hours, the bluenette came to a staircase, one that she ever so carefully used to get to a higher floor. Once she did, she kept a hand on one of the walls, using it as a guide. Soon enough, her hand came to what felt like a doorframe. The door was closed she could tell but it was recent used due to the fact that the doorknob was warm. Making sure not to intrude, she knocked on said door, she almost missed the muffled 'come in' had she not been paying attention. Marinette opened the door, went in and quickly shut it behind her, taking a deep breath.

"Okay I hope you don't mind but which room is this and whose in the room? Dick and Jason thought it would be a good idea to walk around the manor blindfolded while trying to sneak up on them" The bluenette huffed, only to freeze when she heard a familiar chuckle.

"I've heard, you're in my room, It's Damian just to clarify" 'Sh-' "So, what task must be fulfilled to give you permission to take the blindfold off? I doubt you want to keep it on any longer" Marinette giggled.

"You're right, I would probably get lost of I continue. Um, I have to 'steal a hug' apparently"

"So you have to hug someone without them inspecting it" Damian came to that conclusion to which the bluenette nodded her head.

"Yeah that's basically it, hey do you have anywhere I could sit down? I'm getting tired..."

"Of course, my bed is five steps to your front and two steps to your right, make yourself comfortable" She wasn't sure how red she had gotten but she obliged anyway. Had she not been wearing the blindfold, she would've seen Damian smiling at her flustered state. Giving herself a moment to regain her energy, Marinette turned to where she presumed Damian was working at his desk. "Can I hug you? Jay never said I couldn't ask the person first. I-I won't if you don't want me to! I just wanted to ask so..."

She heard the boy thoughtfully hum before he made his way over to her. From what she could tell, Damian was now in front of Marinette, looming over her.

"Did Todd or Grayson say it had to be a hug?" Marinette tilted her head in confusion and thoughtfulness, that had never crossed her mind before.

"W-"

"What happens if I kiss you instead?"

The bluenette didn’t reply with words as she knew how terrible her words would be in her flustered state. But she wanted this, her heart longed for it in a way it never did for anyone else. Instead, she nodded, giving the green-eyed boy permission to do as he wished.

She felt his hand lightly tilt her chin up towards, where she presumed, his face was. Then he pressed his lips onto hers, his other had behind her head, tugging at the fabric around her eyes. Marinette felt bliss, she was glad that no one else would interrupt this moment. Shivers went down her spine as she felt Damian’s hands travel up from behind her neck and to wear the blindfold was knotted, gently tugging at the binding. She was glad that when her face was free from the fabric that comprised her vision, the first thing in her line of eyesight were Damian's deep emerald eyes, the shimmered the same way they had when she first laid eyes on him, she'd been enraptured ever since. The boy, however, was smirking as he noticed the pink that dusted her face. Without a moment passing, she threw herself the green-eyed boy, delivering a hug. As she pulled away, her hands cupped his face and she returned his embrace with one of her own. When she pulled away once more, she smiled in satisfaction at his flustered expression.

"When did you realise you had feelings for me?" Marinette asked softly, her forehead pressed against his trying to regain her breath.

"That's a very easy question" Damian stared lovingly into her eyes. "I fell the moment I saw you take down that Akuma three times your size" Her eyes widened.

"You know about me being Ladybug?"

"The same way you know I'm Robin"

They both smiled, creating a truce to not reveal anything.

"Well I better get going, see you later." She got up from the bed and opened the door, only to turn around and say "Je t'aime mon cœur" before exiting the room, leaving a blushing Damian.

Marinette walked back down the stairs, the piece of cloth in hand and small love-struck smile on her face. When she entered the main living room, she came face to face with the owner of the manor.

"Oh hello Mr Wayne"

"Hello Marinette, I see you managed to get the blindfold off" The older man gestured towards the piece of fabric in her hand. "And please, do call me Bruce. Who did you end up surprising with a hug then?"

She smiled brightly before replying. "Damian"

His usual formal demeanor broke for a moment but Bruce quickly picked the pieces back up. "He didn't attack you or injure you in any shape or form?"

Marinette decided to play the oblivious little girl. "No..? Why, does he do it often?" Her head titled in confusion.

"Nothing it doesn't matter" Bruce simply sighed and shook his head. "Also, there's something I'd like to discuss with you at dinner, if you don't mind"

"No not at all, I'll see you at dinner then?" Bruce nodded and left, leaving Marinette alone in the room, waiting for her honorary older brother and his brother to come in. Which they did but only after some time, it was hilarious to see them crouched down, talking to each other in hushed voices. They flinched as she cleared her throat, both slowly turning towards the sound to find a smug looking Marinette and a blindfold whipped around her finger.

"I win"

~~~

Most of the occupants at the table were either in an all out war or were about to be, except for Marinette and an exasperated Bruce Wayne.

"So Marinette" The eldest Wayne began, silencing the rest of the table. "I hope you don't mind me asking but when you were off searching for Jason, you mentioned attacks that have been occurring in Paris, is this true?"

No one failed to notice the girl flinch. "Yeah it's true"

"...how bad are the attacks? In your opinion"

"Well it depends on how strong the person's emotions are really. If their emotions are strong, then the Akuma is strong too"

"What's the strongest akuma that Paris has seen?" It was Tim who asked and memories of the event began swimming through her mind, she got rid of them with a shake of her head.

"The deadliest akuma Paris has experienced was an akuma called 'Syren'. She's a regular person but, as an akuma, she managed to kill around 2 million people. But don't worry! Ladybug's cure managed to bring them back to life"

"D-did... did you die, Pixie?" Jason asked, his anger mixed with worry was boiling over and luckily simmered after seeing her shake her head.

"Do you think the heroes of Paris would let heroes from the Justice League come over to help?"

Marinette contemplated for a moment, should she really risk the heroes getting akumatized? "I think they would but I wouldn't know"

Bruce nodded while Jason leaned over the table to talk closer to his honorary little-sister. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to bother you"

"You're not a bother, Pixie" Jason smiled at the bluenette on the other side of the table. "You never are and you never will be"

~~~

Marinette returned to Paris a few days later, in the mean time, Bruce and the rest of the batfam were planning their visit to the City of Love. Soon enough, the vigilantes were boarded on the plane. Their flight to Paris was relatively silent. After a few hours, they landed and the vigilantes waited on the Eiffel Tower, only to find out there was a battle going on. Before they could engage in the fight, they were engulfed with magical ladybugs that seemed to fix anything destroyed. As they were mesmerized by the cure, a certain spotted-heroine wobbly landed on the platform. Batman was first to notice.

"Ladybug" His voice caused the others to turn around. "Thank you for allowing us into your city"

Ladybug nodded, not uttering a single word.

"We were hoping, with your permission of course, that we could help you be rid of Hawkmoth once and for good" Again, Ladybug didn't reply. "Ladybug?"

When the heroine didn't respond, Batman glanced at Nightwing and the rest of his sons, clearly something was wrong. Unexpectedly, Robin took his glove off, approached the Ladybug-themed hero and placed his hand onto her forehead.

"You have a fever" he stated, his hand trailing down her face to cup her cheek. His family all shot him weird looks. She tiredly blinked at the vigilante, recognising him as Robin and allowed herself to fall into his arms, detransforming while doing so, leaving a burning hot Marinette.

"Dami?" He hummed. "Take me home, please..." She drifted off to sleep, comforted in her lover's arms. He glanced at his family, holding the bluenette close.

"Pixie...is Ladybug?" Red Hood's voice was first.

"You didn't know?" Robin's voice mocking confusion, enraging Red Hood that his youngest brother knew something about his sister that he didn't. Even more so that his demon brother was holding said sister,

"We should take her back home" Dick went over to feel the girl's forehead. "She's burning"

"Tikki?" Robin asked and a red creature flew out from one of Mari's pockets, startling most of the people there.

"I'll try to heal her on the way, follow me"

The floating red creature flew down from the Eiffel Tower, Robin and Marinette close behind. After some hesitation, the others followed, they ended up on top of a bakery. One by one, they entered through the trapdoor on the balcony, finding both Damian with his mask off and a weak looking Marinette. Despite her enfeebled state, the bluenette greeted each vigilante, her gaze landed on Jason.

"It's just a fever, I'll be fine"

Jason removed his helmet and ran a hand through his hair before both settled on his hips. "You don't look fine"

"I promise I am" She wasn't convincing, not at all.

"Fine" Jason huffed, he could never truly say no to the girl he viewed as his little sister. "But since when were you two a thing" He pointed at the two, his gaze resting maliciously on Damian.

"It's all thanks to you, you know" Marinette smirked at Jason's confusion. Tim snickered as he seemed to catch on to what she was saying.

"Had you not organized that 'blindfolded game', I doubt we would be together at this moment" Damian supplied the information, clearly unfazed by the burning rage in the eyes of his older brother.

"Baby Bird's all grown up" The eldest Wayne son overdramatized wiping a fake tear, Batman sighed at his two eldest sons while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Get your fucking hands off her, Demon Brat!" Jason tried to lunge at Damian, only to be stopped by both Dick and Tim. Though his fury only grew when Marinette snuggled closer to the green-eyed boy, both smirked in victory over Jason's horrified appearance.

Marinette was now part of the family in more ways than one. Though they wish they had found out in better circumstances, they would be able to take down Hawkmoth once and for all, side by side, all together. And to think this all happened because of a silly blindfold game.

[pandora15]

Deadcember 2021 Day 6 Prompt: "Don't do it."

(AO3 LINK)

At the sight of a familiar figure dressed in dark robes, Obi-Wan broke off into a sprint.

The forest was quiet and calm, a sharp contrast to the thoughts rushing through his mind.

Obi-Wan remembered — Anakin's decision, all those years ago. He had only just turned thirteen but somehow already knew that he wanted to walk away from the Jedi, to find life elsewhere.

He had told Obi-Wan as much, and Obi-Wan had to beg him to stay a little longer.

"Don't do it," he'd said. "Not yet. Just wait a little longer, Anakin."

At the time, Obi-Wan had been fully prepared to join Anakin, but he wanted to inform the Council first.

But it seemed as though Anakin had been unwilling to wait any longer. That night, he disappeared without a trace, leaving behind a note saying that he had to be alone to figure out where he wanted to go next.

That was four years ago. Obi-Wan had since come to terms with what happened, but he never really expected to find Anakin through random chance, on a planet he'd never heard of before.

But here he was, literally running into Anakin in the middle of the forest.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan called.

There was no response, except for the birds singing in the distance, the leaves rustling in the air, and the hum of the wind, urging him on and on.

Sighing, Obi-Wan came to a stop to focus on his surroundings, but the Force was giving him no clear answers. He could sense that Anakin was somewhere around here, but it was difficult to tell exactly where he'd gone.

"I saw you, Padawan," he murmured. "I just want to know if you're alright. I just want to know why —"

"Why?"

Obi-Wan spun around.

Anakin was taller than he was the last time Obi-Wan saw him.

It made sense, he supposed. At the time that Anakin left the Order, he had only just begun having his first growth spurt, but now, he was almost as tall as Obi-Wan. His hair was darker, too — almost brown, with a hint of gold in the glistening sunlight.

"You left without a word," Obi-Wan explained. He took a step closer to Anakin, who stared up at him with narrowed eyes. "Anakin, we would have let you go. I told you that I would leave with you."

Anakin shook his head.

"I didn't just want to leave the Order," he replied. "I wanted to leave you."

Obi-Wan blinked as his throat went dry.

No. No. That couldn't be true.

Could it?

"Was I that horrible to you?" Obi-Wan croaked, spreading his arms out wide.

Anakin tilted his head.

"Not on purpose," he said finally. "You didn't know better. You still don't; you've been so blind to it all that you can't even see what's happening when it's right in front of you."

Obi-Wan frowned. "What do you mean?"

In a split-second, Anakin's eyes flashed yellow, and Obi-Wan felt something lift him up into the air and throw him backwards, until he slammed into a wide, lively tree trunk behind him.

At the impact, the air rushed out of his lungs too quickly for him to speak, to say anything. Obi-Wan opened his mouth and panted, but immediately, there was pressure around his throat.

The leaves beneath his feet were beginning to turn grey, the gentle wind caressing his robes went completely still, and the birdsong had gone unnaturally silent.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but watch.

Slowly, Anakin stepped closer to him. His eyes were glowing a sickly yellow color — a sharp contrast with all the blues, greens, and browns of the forest around them.

Obi-Wan needed to breathe now. There was no air in his lungs, and the choke hold on his throat was too tight for him to even try. He struggled to open his mouth for more air, but it was fruitless.

"This should make it obvious, I think," Anakin said, nonchalant. "But just in case you still need me to spell things out for you…"

He reached for his belt and reached for a dark, unfamiliar hilt. Pressed a button, and —

A lightsaber, bleeding red into the forest wind.

Obi-Wan blinked.

No.

No.

"My master approached me not long after I first arrived on Coruscant," Anakin said, almost conversationally. He looked down at the lightsaber hilt he held in his hands. "He was the one who told me about the power of the Dark Side, the one who took me in for who I am, not just because of some old and forgotten prophecy."

Obi-Wan shook his head, violently. He opened his mouth to reply, to deny it all, but there were no words, no air.

His vision was blurring too much, but even through the confusion, the streak of red was all too noticeable.

"I know what you're thinking," Anakin continued. "You're going to say that you didn't take me in because of the prophecy. That you cared about me."

Obi-Wan's vision cleared enough to see Anakin moving closer to him, slate yellow eyes fixed directly onto his.

"But if that were true, you wouldn't have held me back as much as you did. The power I have now, learning from my master…"

Anakin smiled widely — a sickening thing that sent a shiver down Obi-Wan's spine.

"…is unlike anything you will ever know, Jedi."

A flash of red as Anakin thrust the lightsaber forward, a horrible burning pain stabbing deep in Obi-Wan's gut, along with a hand pressing him back against the tree trunk. He felt the Dark Side, rushing up into the forest, destroying all the life around him.

Obi-Wan let out a soundless gasp as the pain burned through his middle, up to his lungs, wrenching itself through his heart, ringing desperately in his ears.

Slowly, Anakin began to push the lightsaber deeper and deeper into his middle, just below his sternum. Obi-Wan threw his head up to the rapidly darkening sky as the pain crescendoed into unspeakable agony.

If he had any breath left in his lungs, he'd be screaming.

As Anakin pushed the lightsaber deeper, it erupted out of Obi-Wan's back, causing him to let out a choked gasp. Anakin smirked and pushed in deeper, allowing the lightsaber to drive into the trunk behind Obi-Wan.

When Anakin finally finished driving the lightsaber to the hilt just below his sternum, he stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest.

Through his rapidly blurring vision, Obi-Wan watched as the trees around him wilted into black, as the leaves turned into ash, and the sky melted into grey.

He watched as the Light gave way into Dark, until the only color that remained was the yellow of Anakin's irises, boring into his, and the red of the lightsaber that was stabbed deeply into his middle.

Soon enough, the colors and light all faded away, until only the pain and darkness remained: his everlasting companions, even in the cold embrace of death.

"Finally," the Sith whispered, "I win."

And the Sith walked away from the Jedi, leaving him held upright only by the humming red lightsaber driven through his body into the lifeless tree behind him.

A lone figure in the forest of the dead.

(Pandora's Deadcember 2021 Masterlist)

[prismartist]

(after ever after)

Fandom: 3rdLifeSMP

Words: 1188

Relationships: Jimmy Solidarity & Scott Smajor

Characters: Jimmy Solidarity

CW: Mentions of temporary character death, depictions of the afterlife

Ao3

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Death feels like a dream.

It’s all blurry and unfocused, too bright and too dim at the same time, the feeling of no control in a liminal space with nowhere to go. So you walk in circles, trying to make sense of where you’ve landed.

Jimmy didn’t expect to land anywhere, honestly. The arrow had hit its mark, burying itself into his skull, and he was out, plunged into a sea of black and red and nothing.

And then he had woken up, finding himself falling onto a field of grey, and grey, and grey, and black.

A scream rose to the top of his throat and never came out.

The landing was soft and dull. Jimmy heard no sound, not even a thump as he hit the ground. He could only feel the wind, ruffling his clothes and the blurry gray landscape as it passed by.

Jimmy may not be the brightest, but he knew death when he saw it. Even if it wasn’t what he was expecting. It’s the only logical conclusion, after all.

He stood up, the uneasiness alleviated, though not fully gone. He'd been waiting for this anyway. No point in sitting around gawking at the strange nature of the afterlife.

As Jimmy walked around, exploring his new home, the scenery seemed to focus more wherever he ventured. The shape of grass was now clearly defined around his feet and the path he had taken.

One or two colourless flowers caught Jimmy's eye.

After walking for god knows how long, where the blobs in the distance looked like water droplets on glass, shimmering and warped, they now were clearly trees, and hills, and clouds lazily drifting across the light grey sky. Flowers dotted all over the grass, bowing to the breeze. A recently discovered river resumed to bubble and flow after being suspended for a brief second. It seemed time followed Jimmy as well as sight.

When the familiar wooden frame of a hobbit home made itself clear to him, Jimmy choked upon the sobs swelling up in his throat.

It shouldn’t be that surprising that the afterlife resembled the home that Jimmy and Scott had shared. Yet here Jimmy was, eyes wide as he processed the place fully for the first time. The scent and sound had also gradually started to return with the memories, and he could smell the petrichor, the fresh air, hear the burbling of the river and the leaves of trees brushing against each other. The only thing lacking was the color.

There was still a feeling of airiness, as if Jimmy wasn’t really there, but he didn’t really care. If anything, it only added to the feeling of euphoria that was filling his chest.

Death felt like a dream, and like a lucid one, it seemed that Jimmy had regained control.

He would take his home with Scott over heaven any day.

For the second time in that stretch of eternity, Jimmy collapsed onto the grass and the dirt, taking in the peace.

He's home.

He’s unbothered.

… he’s alone.

Though not for long.

When Scott finally comes along, the burst of color that floods Jimmy's vision makes him smile wide.

Catching the sight of teal hair he hadn’t seen in so long, Jimmy jogs towards it, now surrounded by a field of green, and red, and yellow, and brown, and blue.

Jimmy takes Scott's hand, and leads him around, showcasing their own little world.

Resurrection felt like waking up.

There’s no real conclusion, just an abrupt end to the blissful dream.

Honestly, Jimmy was glad for it. The afterlife was lovely, but just like a dream, there was nothing more to it. After a while the euphoria wore off, having seen the same landscape over and over again. It wasn’t like they could go anywhere either; Jimmy remembers walking past the walls and seeing nothing but a blinding white landscape, like an empty canvas.

Jimmy was grateful to have a warning as well. It took the form of visions displaying unknown, sprawling biomes, more mesas and deserts and mountains. Magnificent builds stood atop them, their flags waving proudly. He would recount the dreams to Scott as they sat upon the bench, leaning against each other. Scott shared his own visions, something about deers and gods and wars. Jimmy can’t remember the details; it seems so fuzzy now.

The afterlife had started reverting back to its unprocessed state, the time slowing down and the color dulling little by little. It was as if the world was shutting down, falling asleep as its members started moving on.

Even the wind seemed to whisper in Jimmy's ears, telling him it was time to traverse to another land.

He was ready for it.

Though granted, when his husband disappeared first, he freaked out a bit.

In the blink of an eye, he had woken up in a forest of green and brown, the humidity hitting Jimmy in a way that he hadn’t felt in a while. It was all solid, and right, and real. So far from the dream that seemed like ages ago, even though Jimmy had just arrived.

He was alone.

He was going to be alone for a while.

When he arrived at the swamp where he was going to be spending the next few months, Jimmy laid down on the dirt and sighed, exhausted after traveling and dying a few times. There was no flower field, but Jimmy is sure he’ll find a new home in the biome.

It might be better to move on, anyways. God knows he didn't want to remember a world where he was purposely wiped from its surface.

Upon the mossy green grass, he took a deep breath. There was the familiar smell of petrichor, at least.

Jimmy looked into the swamp water, and flinched at the sight of a large scar, somehow still visible in the murk, right in the middle of his forehead. Jimmy didn’t know why it was still there. He had assumed it would disappear once he changed servers.

Jimmy slowly raised a finger and touched the scar gently. He recalled a memory of Scott in the afterlife pointing it out for the first time and teasing him. He always used to poke it playfully. Jimmy smiled at the memory at first, but it melted away once he was reminded of the scar’s origin.

That was an old server now. He had moved past it.

An idea came to him, and quickly Jimmy dug around in his inventory before finding it; the skull of a large cod, its jaw missing from when he accidentally broke it. He fitted it on his head, the sharp edges digging into his hair, but not quite hurting him. It stayed on, surprisingly, and feeling self-satisfied, Jimmy looked into the water once more.

Sure enough, the scar was no longer visible, obscured by the skull's hard white exterior.

Jimmy stands up now, determined to start anew.

Kings didn't have a good reputation where he came from, but that isn’t going to be the case with him.

Jimmy had died, and the Codfather had risen.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 30

First time reader click here

TRIGGER WARNING! This chapter is a horror movie. There's blood, gore and psychological horror elements. Lemme know if it was actually scary - I'm desensitized to this shit. This was written to come out on Halloween but I was too slow with writing.

Wooden floor creaking behind me, I couldn't feel the cold of it, not even a single splinter piercing the arches of them, I ran like my life depended on it. The darkness behind me was alive; it breathed, pulsated, spreading along the walls of the hallway like mold. The hallway seemed to be endless.

As soon as I realized that, I noticed that it, in fact, did have an end and not a door was in sight; that quickly proved to br also just a trick of the eye - there were doors, the hallway was riddled with them, each one dark, identical and placed neatly about five feet apart. With shaking hands, I turned the knob, slamming the door behind me with a loud bang.

Panting, I let myself slide against the door, eyes closed, sheet landing in a puddle of white fabric on the floor around me. First five seconds passed quietly; then, a noise interrupted my panicked thinking and my eyes flew open as the scene in front of me produced more confusion.

The familiar scene of the pond behind my grandparents' stables, the poppies - a splash of blood red against the dull greens and browns - swaying in the breeze. A Dora the Explorer bucket hat and a six-year-old me, hair in pigtails, poking at a spot of moist soil with a large stick.

I knew where this was going yet I couldn't pull my eyes away from the scene that was going to unfold. A stallion my parents had recently bought, ill-tempered and moody, jumping over the low fence and galloping noisily right at mini-me. The terrified animal was screaming yet I was oblivious to it's distress, too busy trying to fish out earthworms out of the wet ground. Almost in slo-mo, mini-me noticed the running, screaming animal and bolted for safety, its hooves missing my little body barely by a feet.

I felt the cold water of the pond on my skin. It was dirty and blooming at the time, musky smell assaulting my senses, murky water choking the life out of both versions of me. In the distance, I noticed a much younger and slimmer dad sprinting full-speed towards the splashing child in the pond. He was screaming something and I leaned in, trying to hear him better.

The scene vanished into thin, wispy smoke. My head was once again clear and the suffocating dread and panic subsided, letting me take in several deep breaths and try to assess the situation calmly. I had survived that accident, even successfully overcame my fear of swimming later on.

Hands shaking and heart fluttering like a frightened bird, I recoiled from the locked door when it began to rattle, the noise deafening in the eerie quiet of the house.

The shadows were taunting me. Trapping me in my worst fears, making me relive my worst memories. The artifact needed something from me - what was it? I wondered, tucking the sheet in some semblance of a toga and standing up to explore the room. Save for a few outdated pieces of furniture, it was cold and empty, void of life. Nowhere to hide.

I paced the room, coming to a halt next to the heavy, thick velvet curtains. Expecting to see a window behind them, I was surprised with another old wooden door with a bent handle that had gathered an impressive layer of dust. With rattling behind me increasingly growing in volume, I had no other option but to press it down and quickly dart into the next dark room.

Clint. Lifeless eyes wide open, his body laying at my feet, sheet-white and rust coloured stains adorning his mouth, nails black and broken as if he'd been clawing at the dilapidated wooden floors. I backed away from him, further into the room - the archer's body began to move and tremble, tiny little gashes appearing on every inch of exposed skin. The thing that was breaking out of him glowed, pale blue and sickly.

"That's not..." I whispered to myself. "Clint is alive," As if I had been doused with cold water, the images of MAFS incident seeped into my mind, the what-ifs of my past actions weighing heavily and clouding my mind with guilt.

"Come on, we don't have much time," Steph's voice appeared behind my back, loud and out of nowhere. I was rightfully sceptical about the reality of him - while his face was the usual, tense expression of boredom, he stood differently. I couldn't describe the difference if I tried; it just felt wrong. Like a puzzle piece was missing.

"I don't think so, demon dude," Squaring my shoulders once again, I prepared myself for the inevitable pain.

"Who?" The copycat asked, faking concern surprisingly well. "It's the artifact. It's making you see things that aren't real," With a wave of his hand, the door flew open, exposing the hallway filled with the void that was chasing me previously.

"Oh what I saw was real alright," I countered, tilting my head to examine the entity. Unknowingly, it had given itself away - Stephen's magic always glowed gold and orange, in the sense that he wasn't like Loki - Strange's spells were always visible. "I'd rather you kill me then spread your vile disease beyond this... Space," With none of the bravery I actually had, bluff came surprisingly easy. Perhaps, I really was ready to die so my friends and family could live.

Not-Stephen tsked and grinned maliciously, once again waving his hands about. "Killing you? So barbaric and an absolute waste of potential." The shadows pushed something into the gaping hole of the doorway, something curled up in a fetal position and whimpering. The entity picked up the man by the shoulders, forcing him to kneel in front of it, teary baby browns staring back at me, wide with terror.

Tony. My feet took an involuntary step forward, where my Tony was trembling, whimpering in the creature's grasp, unseeing eyes looking straight forward. As if I wasn't there.

"Submit and I will let him go. Right now, he's relieving the worst memories of his life," The entity raised an eyebrow, a mock imitation of Stephen's expression. I could hear Tony mumbling faintly, something about his chest and Afghanistan and bombs and Obadiah.

It pissed me off. Firstly, how dare this wannabe-Pennywise, this LOST-fog-monster-reject to lay his filthy metaphysical fingers on my Tony. And secondly, for the sloppy intelligence job - I had been woken up by Tony's nightmares more than enough to know his biggest fear wasn't Afghanistan. It wasn't Obadiah and it wasn't Bucky killing his parents, it wasn't even the vast, consuming black emptiness of the space behind the wormhole.

Anger burning my throat, I lunged at not-Stephen with a bloodcurdling scream, feeling my nails dig into the cold, clammy flesh of the thing's throat. Taken by surprise, both of us stumbled, falling into the abyss of the hallway, me kicking and scratching and screaming all the way, fingers squeezing deeply into the lifeless imitation of flesh. His screams mixed with mine and Tony's into a shrieking cacophony.

The darkness was laughing, cackling, noise sharp like nails on a chalkboard. It hurt, but the thing's grip on me hurt even more. "He'll never love you like you expect him to. They don't care about you. The mage said he'd help you and now you're dying here, alone," Black smoke began leaking out of the impostor's mouth along with the words, both acrid and venomous.

My head was pounding as more and more of the stuff came into contact with my body. My vision swam, bordering on unconsciousness. "If I'm dying, I'm taking you with me, bitch," I screamed out, squeezing and squeezing and squeezing until I exploded together with my surroundings, in a short of white, blinding light.

And then, there was darkness. My limbs were once again filled with concrete, mouth dry and skin burning like I'd been branded with a hot iron.

I opened my eyes to the familiar sight of the room with the fireplace. The fire was roaring, crackling and and shooting noisy sparks, accompanied by heavy breathing to my left. Disregarding the nausea that followed my every movement, I hung my head over the side of the car coming to witness both sorcerers laying haphazardly on the floor, a thin river of blood seeping into the carpet from Wong's head.

Confused, disoriented and terrified, I called out for them, voice barely audible and terse. Had I been screaming?

The sorcerers' chests rose and fell rapidly; my panic subsided but not by much. I crawled out of the cot only to land ungracefully on my face, body refusing to cooperate and feeling about as well as after I'd ran a marathon. Inch by inch, I crawled over to the chair I had left my things on, fighting with my body for every movement I made.

Fumbling, l pulled out my phone and pressed the green call button on the one person one would call in this situation. My best friend.

"Yes, dear?" His baritone was tense but nonetheless calm.

"Help, some-something happened," I managed to say, no louder than a whisper. "Sanctum," I clarified, hearing a noise of things falling over and several distressed voices shouting in the background.

"I am coming, do not end the call," Loki replied immediately, barking out several commands I didn't quite catch. There were more noises of distress as I obediently stayed on the phone. "Darling, can you tell me what happened?"

"I- Killed?" I tried to articulate my thoughts, tongue becoming more and more uncooperative by the second.

"Oh my God, who's dead?!" I heard Bruce yell, probably, right in Loki's ear.

"The Thing," I clarified, hoping to calm him down.

Loki cursed in his native language, I heard him trying to wrestle the phone from someone - unsuccessfully so, I might say, as Tony's distraught voice was the next thing I heard. "Princess, listen to me. Are you okay? Where's Strange? We're gonna be there in 10 minutes. We're coming."

An avalanche of information for my overtaxed brain and aching body, I struggled to keep up with Tony's rambling and filtering out Loki's screeching in the background. So much noise. My head hurt. "No, Steph and Wong are down. Alive." I managed to convey the most important part, a terrified sob leaving my chest burning. "Please, talk," I begged Tony, not wanting to be left in that terrifying, consuming silence ever again.

And Tony talked. He babbled nonstop, things that I didn't really catch neither care about, having enough strength to give a hum of approval every few seconds or so. It appeared to be as calming to him as it was to me, I didn't hear any more complaints from the team, only brief increase in volume as one of them got closer to the phone. A part of me conceded I should've made at least one joke about being put on loudspeaker, however, my brain was exhausted.

Burnt out, rather. The emptiness settled in my bones, chilly, like the blood had been sucked out of me, making my body just a vessel for the darkness that stalked my nightmares. I dug my nails into the soft flesh of my bare thigh, feeling none of the pain, just the relief when blood seeped through the cuts, crimson and warm.

That's how they found me. Loki threw open the door, breaking one of the hinges, eyes immediately darting between me and the laying sorcerers, as he swiftly cast a bright golden spell on the room, warming us from the inside out. Carefully stepping over the two men, Loki kneeled in front of me, green eyes staring right into mine.

I heard cursing and thudding but all I could focus on was the shining emerald of Loki's eyes. "Oh, child," He whispered, reaching out with both arms to pull me into his chest. I couldn't have resisted even if I wanted to, my body was utterly drained of fight.

"What happened?" Tony asked, a hysterical pitch to his voice.

"I can assume there was a failsafe left behind by the artifact, it took out both sorcerers and attempted to finish the job it started," Loki spoke up, hand gently petting my hair, still clutching my limp body like I was dying. "She fought it off, I don't know how, but she fought it off. It has entered a dormant state again."

"What do you mean took them all out?" In his distress, Tony seemed to have lost all sensibility. "What happened to her?!" He was getting impatient, angry.

"With an artifact like that, it's a blessing they are still alive. It is ancient and unpredictable," Loki explained patiently, none of his usual vitriol present. "And she... You could say she was mind-raped," He stated, quieter.

I groaned in protest. Loki's spell of gold did what felt like a wonder: the light was slowly coming back into the room, into me, filling me with warmth I didn't know I could lack. "As if," I slurred. "As if that Pennywise wannabe could ever," My body was, nonetheless, exhausted. "I've swallowed more kids than he could ever," My eyelids dropped, the comforting noise of Tony's and Loki's combined chuckle amplifying the surplus of warmth within me.

Last thing I saw was Tony's watery smile, tears crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he lifted me from Loki's arms, hot rod red of his suit saturating the room with color. Feeling safe for the first time in what felt like forever, I let my eyes close voluntarily, a smile crawling onto my face. I was right. Tony was alright, it wasn't really him that was getting tortured in the nightmare-verse.

"What..." I heard Stephen croak from somewhere. "Baby?!" His voice raised a whole octave; Thor's fond chuckle followed the rustling of fabric and a few stronger choice words from the sorcerer as Loki briefed everyone on the situation at hand.

"How is she, Tones?" Bruce asked quietly from above me.

"Pretty out of it but on her way back to health," Tony replied with another watery laugh. "Cracking jokes and whatnot clownery."

Bruce exhaled in relief, stroking my face with the side of his fingers. It was almost palpable, the general atmosphere of respite in the room, the sudden free flow of oxygen to my lungs.

"I am so sorry," Stephen's whisper was more felt than heard by me; the spice of his cologne and copper of blood reached my nostrils, burning them, keeping the warmth from leaving my body ever again.

My fingers weakly held out to him, finally coming to grasp his more-than-usual shaking hand. "Not your fault," I breathed. "Persistent cursed box," Were my last words before my consciousness gave out. Sleep sweet sleep.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​@pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[foxfics]

Just Say The Word (Pt. 1)

Pairing: Sweeney Todd x Original Female Character (Alexandra Taylor)

Warnings: Mentions of abuse A/n: In this story, Sweeney and Nillie don't become c*nni*les. They're just your friendly neighborhood baker and barber, who murder on occasion :)

Summary: Alexandra, a butcher, moved into the plot next to the small shop with her husband. Sweeney is taken by her at first sight, but doesn't want to confront his feelings and ruin her marriage. But when trouble brews in her love life, will Sweeney be able to help her through it?

Word Count: 575

Sweeney held his hands tightly to his chest as he crossed the street to the Butcher's shop. It was a whipping cold day in London, Mr. Todd, being one of the only ones crazy enough to set foot out into the snow. The old wooden door opened with a creak and a bell.

"Come in!" A familiar voice called from the back, "Just a minute!!"

"Take your time, Alex!" Sweeney called, rubbing his palms together to try and coax some heat back into his bones. He looks around, taking in the view of the small shop. Meats of all sorts are hanging from hooks on the ceiling, the air sharp with the scent of fresh kill.

The walls were a sickly green color, patchily painted over with a homey red. It made him feel more welcomed as he took a seat at the small bench by the door. His mind wandered back to the first time he'd stepped into the shop that summer.

Ding!

"Oh hello! Sorry, we're not open yet!" A woman, with dark chocolate skin, light chestnut eyes, and long, curly hair apologized. She wore a tight corset over a wavy blue shirt and trousers, with almost knee length boots to match. Sweeney would've been shocked had he not been entranced by her sheer beauty.

"I-Sorry, didn't mean to barge in. I was just stopping in to introduce myself." He smiled charmingly and held out his hand, "Sweeney Todd, I'm the barber across the street, above Mrs. Lovett."

"Alexandra Taylor, sir." She shook his hand, "I'm a butcher. You're standing in my shop." She looked around with a sigh, "Or, at least what will be my shop..."

Sweeney smiled as he looked around, "Lovely little area you've got!" He grimaced at the walls, "Though that color has to go."

Alexandra laughed, "That it does! Good to know my neighbor is smart at least!"

The sound of boots on the creaking floorboards brought Sweeney out of his daydream. "Sorry, Mr. Todd! I couldn't find the damned apron." Alex huffed, tying her hair behind her head and looking around the counter.

Sweeney laughed, "How many times have I asked you to call me Sweeney?" His face relaxed into a content grin, watching her work behind the counter.

Alex hummed in amusement, "What'll it be today, Sweeney darling?" The barber blushed, momentarily at a loss of words. That nickname always got his heart racing and the blood rushing to his face. Lucy used to call him that..

"Uh, the er...Normal, please." Sweeney cleared his throat and leaned on the counter, "Boars flank and cow's meat."

Alex retrieved his order, wrapping it in old, worn out newspaper. "That'll be 5 pounds, darlin'." She looked up at him with a smile.

"Ah, yes, let me just..." He trailed off as he looked up at her. Despite her blinding smile, and her twinkling eyes, he saw the bruises marking her face. "Get...Alex, are you alright!?"

Sweeney's sudden shout made Alexandra flinch, and he immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry. Oh god I'm so sorry, Alex..." He covered his mouth with a shaking hand. Alex looked around, passing him the packaged meat before shaking.

"Don't...Please...He'll hear you..." She whispered, gently patting his cheek. Her hand was cold and coarse, eyes welling with tears. "Go home, Sweeney."

The barber grabbed his purchase and nodded, shaking as he exited the shop, into the cold and cruel streets of London.

[justice4harwin]

Light’s Corruption- Chapter V

Pairing: The DarklingxAlina

Summary:With few friends at the Little Palace, Alina must work to win the favour of her fellow grisha and their commander, who makes her feel light headed every time she sees him.

After training in Os Alta for two years, the king grows tired of waiting and demands the Sun Summoner joins a western post near the Fjerdan border along with the rest of The Second Army to test her abilities.

Something happens. Suddenly, Alina wants blood to run down the rivers and those who stand in her and The Darkling’s way will be blinded by her light and swallowed by his shadows.

It won’t be pretty

Rating: 18+

Click here for chapter 4

As usual, tags are in the comments. If you dont wanna be tagged, dont be afraid to let me know. If you wanna be tagged, let me know too. I dont bite...anymore lmao

Chapter 5: Heartrenders

Days went by, and they turned into weeks. The leaves fell off the trees, a crunchy sea of red, orange, yellow and brown, and Alina wanted to pile them all on and throw herself inside.

She'd do it the first chance she got, but for that she had to beat the gardeners before they took the piles and burnt them to depressing ashes.

She talked to Michail some more during they rounds around the lake and had her rematch with Natasha.

She lost. Again. She laughed it off. Again. Natasha said she hadn't been so easy to defeat that second time, to which Alina smiled almost genuinely. Progress.

Baghra refused to see her still, and Alina was too proud to go back to her, so she tried to practice on her own. She'd hide away on the far sides of the gardens where the other grisha rarely went to and try to gain more control. It was a slow process; the temptation to let her power run free and vast was always there and trying to tame that always left her exhausted. She had no trouble falling asleep, yet each day the bags underneath her eyes seemed to deepen, as did her appetite. Alina was pretty sure that summoning should be for the better, but more than once, she had thoroughly considered laying down on the cold grass and take a nap there instead of walking all the way back to the Little Palace.

The General wasn't back yet, and much to Alina's confusion, frustration and shame, she worried. Maybe that too had something to do with the bags underneath her eyes. She tended to dream of him in all kinds of scenarios, each less pleasant than the last. It made her wake up sweaty and choking for air.

More than once, she almost wrote to him, only if just to make sure he was alright. But he had to be. Otherwise, word would've spread quickly…right?

She always talked herself out of it though. His presence was missed, her mind was making up all kind of tricks to make her reach out to him like a pathetic girl begging for attention.

The thought reminded her of Baghra's opinion of her, which only strengthened her resolve to not write to him.

She had had enough of begging, enough of getting scrapes of affection from a man who hadn't even bother to write once; she wouldn't do it again, no matter how much her heart tried to pull her to him.

But then her eyes would drift back to the black, shadow rose that laid on her nightstand, the little bit of gold on its inside long dead, and her heart would race and some form of reassurance would fall gently over her, like a blanket shielding her body.

She'd reach out and take it in her hands. It had no thorns. Her fingers would run through its petals, as soft as those of a real rose, but with something deeper in there. There was something more alive inside that rose than in any flower in all of Ravka; it was deep, powerful, and dark. It scared and alluded to her in the same measure, and she'd stare at it fascinated for an unfathomable long time.

She wondered if The Darkling could feel her caressing his shadows; and how he'd feel about it.

Besides Michail and Natasha, Alina didn’t seem to be progressing very much. They exchanged niceties and some jokes, even paired up during training, but there was not much more to it.

She told herself to be patient. These things took time.

One early afternoon, Genya showed up on her room unannounced. Alina hurried to hide her rose inside her nightstand; she wasn't sure why, but she wanted it to be her little secret.

"The Queen just left Os Alta." the redhead smiled. "As did the king. They'll be gone for two days on a hunting trip."

"A hunting trip?"

"Yes, where they kill animals for the fun of it. Like one of those brutish size competitions men seem to like so much."

Alina snorted.

"So?"

"So…"there was a gleam to her friend's eyes, and the summoner leaned back and frowned slightly, almost scared. "I could sneak you into the Grand Palace and into Her Royal Bitch's wardrobe."

"We'll get in trouble, Gen."

"Oh, please; have some faith in me." she placed her elbows on the desk and her chin atop of her hands, almost looking angelic. "Do you really think I'd get you in trouble?"

"Yes."

"Well, then you're wrong." she straightened up and tugged on Alina's arm. "C'mon; there's so many gowns and habits: she rarely wears them twice. We're not stealing; no one will know."

"How many gowns?" she asked, genuinely curious. She had seen the queen on two official occasions, the first time when she arrived from the camps near Kribirsk, and the second when she was invited to her ridiculous tea parade. Still, she had seen her in passing a few times as she strolled the grounds. A part of Alina felt ashamed of the jealousy she felt upon seeing her beautiful clothes and jewels.

There she was, living in a palace, wearing a kefta and being pampered, yet she dared to want more.

"Hundreds!" the Tailor whispered excitedly. "And they'll look much better on us anyway."

She gave in a little to temptation. They would just try them on and leave them again. No one would know, and maybe she'd be satisfied then.

"Alright, alright. But we better not get caught."

"Don't worry, we won't."

They left the bedroom and ran down the stairs, Genya holding onto the blue sleeve of her friend as she rambled about all the different fabrics and patterns and accessories while Alina tried to keep up with her, listening to every word while watching her step. The last thing she needed was to trip down the stairs.

That'd be a sad way to go for her.

"You'll love it. I promise!" Genya turned to give her a smile, but Alina's eyes drifted to the looming figure appearing in her line of vision.

The Darkling walked into the Little Palace accompanied by Ivan, Fedyor and a third heartrender.

It was a woman, a little bit older than Alina probably, but only for a few years. She was tall, with long, brown hair cascading down her back. Her kefta, which hugged her rounded figure nicely, gave her away as a fellow heartrender.

The Darkling noticed them approaching. Alina tried to search something in his eyes, anything that gave away any sort of emotion that could cause in him to see her again, but she saw nothing but his usual coolness.

The Summoner and the Tailor came to a stop and bowed.

"Moi Soverennyi." they bowed respectfully.

"Miss Starkov, Miss Safin; it has been some time." he looked from one to the other. "May I inquire as to your present activities?"

"Nothing we're not supposed to do." Alina spat out, earning herself a dainty elbow to the ribs.

General Kirigan rose an eyebrow.

"I see. See to it that it stays that way."

"Of course, sir." spoke Genya, serious all of a sudden.

The man turned and contemplated the strange woman for a moment, then gestured at Alina with a gloved hand.

"This is Alina Starkov, our Sun Summoner." he looked at her, those pools of grey catching her breath. "Miss Starkov, may I introduce you to Nina Zenik. She is one of my best agents and has just recently returned from an assignment in Shu Han."

The woman's green eyes settled on Alina, taking her in. Something glittered in there.

"So, she is real after all."

"Would I lie to you?" was The Darkling's reply.

"You forgot to mention how pretty she is." Nina ignored him, taking a long, stealth step towards her and catching a tendril of Alina's dark hair in her fingers.

"Um, it's a pleasure to meet you." The Sun Summoner managed to say, nervous under the woman scrutiny.

"Oh, a pleasure indeed, sun bean." Nina smiled, amusement shining in her eyes as Alina's face heated up. "I can't wait to make your acquaintance."

Before Alina could even think of an answer -for the woman's pretty eyes were too distracting- The Darkling cleared his throat.

"Not for some time, I am afraid." he said. Alina finally turned her gaze to him. There was something dark and intense in the way he was staring at Nina's back, his jaw tense. "Miss Starkov has quite the busy schedule."

Alina felt Genya tensing beside her. Nina's eyes slid momentarily, as if she could see The Darkling behind her, and nodded, winking at her before receding.

"Certainly. I can only imagine." she turned a charming smile on him. "Should we discuss my mission in private?"

"Of course." he answered almost, almost too quickly. He made a gesture for her to go in first.

"See you around, sun bean."

Alina choked on her own saliva as she struggled to say her farewell.

Ivan left with them without even glancing in their direction; Fedyor was kind enough to give them each a courteous smile.

Genya was giggling like an idiot.

"Shut up."

Now she was laughing. 

During their training one day, Alina decided to pair up with her. Many grisha gave her a myriad of odd looks, and for a moment, Alina feared she might be about to face another Zoya.

Nina seemed to not to notice them and beckoned her forward.

People seemed to like Nina, Alina observed. The woman had charm and wit; the Sun Summoner really had to try to not get jealous of those traits. She reminded herself that Nina had been at the Little Palace for years, not one season and a half.

They circled each other, taking their measures.

Alina didn't want to be the one to strike first. That always had seemed to go wrong thus far, so she waited.

The heartrender went to the left, so Alina turned, only to be tricked as she received a blow on her right. She winced and stood back, more alert. She didn't want to make a ridicule again.

"You're small and skinny." the heartrender whispered. Alina arched an eyebrow. "I'm bigger and stronger, so your best option is to tire me out."

"I'm not exactly the fastest person."

Nina threw a punch and, luckily, Alina blocked it successfully.

She shook her head.

"Speed and resistance don't need to go hand in hand."

Alina didn't dare to look around to see if anyone else could hear them. She hoped not. Botkin would most certainly disapprove of his students giving each other advice on how to defeat them.

So, with Nina's words in mind, Alina did her best to block and recede. She tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to punch and kick, and received a wince and an "ouch" as Nina rubbed her calf.

The Summoner could feel everyone still watching, Marie and Nadia cheering her on; Sergei and Michail more reserved since she was fighting a fellow red sporter.

Then, Alina caught a glimpse. It was a second, and before she even knew it, she was taking a chance.

Nina was placing her foot down, twisting it as if to test it, and the next she was laying on her back, Alina having all but hurled herself at the woman, grabbing her middle section with all her strength and pushing.

They landed on the ground, and in the disbelief, the Summoner almost forgot to fully immobilize her opponent the way Botkin had taught her.

"You know," Nina gasped, the breath having abandoned her lungs. "There's better ways to get on top of me, sun bean, but if you like it rough-"

Alina blushed in embarrassment, both for having potentially hurt her and for the path those words were leading to.

"Are you alright?" she interrupted hurriedly. "Did I hurt you?"

Nina tried to laugh and cried instead.

"Shit, sun bean. You do have some strength in that tiny body after all."

"Alright!" Botkin clapped his hands twice, coming over toward them. "The little girl wins again, …finally."

Alina was almost offended. At least Marie and Nadia were cheering, as were some others Etherealki. She noticed Sergei and Michail exchanging some coins and scowled.

"Healer." she called, and one hurried to Nina's side.

"It's just a broken rib." the woman said, setting herself to work.

Nina raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm impressed, sun bean. I didn't actually think you'd win."

Alina found a new hiding spot where to practice her summoning. It was a most secluded corner, surrounded by old trees, an unkept stone bench and a dirty sculpture of a woman.

She really wanted to be offended.

With eyes wide, she forgot all about her practice, raced and jumped in, laughing childishly to herself.

She looked up and took in the warmth of the sun with pleasure, her face basking in it as her hands ran through leaves and sticks. It was actually a little uncomfortable, but fun.

She almost wished she could sink in and stay there forever, with the sun warming her body and the crunchy leaves all around her.

There was a big pile of leaves.

"Did you fall?"

A shadow took the light from her face, and she found The Darkling standing over her, looking down with something akin to curiosity.

"No. I just jumped."

"Into a pile of dirt?"

"It's not dirt. Besides, it's fun!" she extended a hand. "Wanna try?"

He huffed. Her cheeks heated up. She should've known better.

He took her hand and pulled her up, the mere contact making everything about him feel more intense as usual.

She held onto him.

"How did you find me?"

"You are my Sun Summoner; did you really think I would let you wander about the palace grounds unguarded?"

"Do you have me followed?" she had never noticed.

"For your safety."

"I thought this was the safest place in all of Ravka."

"I am not taking any chances with you, Alina." he replied, eyes guarded, face soft.

"Well, I've never noticed them."

"It means they are doing a good job. I would not want you to live scared, looking over your shoulder all the time."

"I might as well start now that I know."

He opened his mouth and then closed it, thumb rubbing the back of her hand. Alina wondered if he noticed what he was doing.

"You are right." he stepped closer, pulling a leaf off her hair. "But you need not fear, especially while I am on the palace grounds."

"Because not even the dumbest drüskelle would dare to cross paths with you?"

"Nor would the boldest noble."

Alina frowned. The nobles of Os Alta?

She nodded slowly.

"I have scared you." he stated, studying her face. "I apologize."

"No, no." she let go of his hand. "You just made me wearier."

"That is just how life at court is." he offered, not unkindly. "This is not just an army sometimes, especially for you and I."

Alina looked at him, questioning.

"There is no one else like us, Alina." he said, approaching her once more. The calmness, the facts were gone, replaced by a fire she wanted to step into. The vehemence in his voice made her shiver and want to take refuge in his cloak. "There never will be."

She thought about it. What exactly did he mean by that?

He reached out again and plucked another leaf from her hair, then took her face in his hands. She tilted her head up, desperate for a look into those eyes.

Her heart drummed on her ribcage, wanting to break free.

"I-" words failed her as he studied her face, like she was something unique he wanted to memorize.

His thumb ran over her lips, and she exhaled heavily at the feel.

"I forgot what I came here to tell you." he whispered in confidence, his eyes on her parted lips.

"I don't care."

One of his hands left her face and wrapped around her waist, pressing her against his hard chest. Alina almost gasped, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. He pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, hiding the conflict she had briefly witnessed there.

Alina made a choice.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

He reciprocated immediately, holding her tighter and pushing his tongue inside her mouth, demanding a dominance she was more than willing to give him.

She had been kissed, but never like this. It was a first kiss that felt like the last; its intensity so beautifully crushing and chaotic. It was like he was a missing part of her, long searched for and finally found. It was like she was the most precious, addictive treasure, something to be cherished and corrupted at the same time.

Alina was willing to let him do as he wanted with her.

Her hands pulled at his hair, earning a growl. Their eyes met briefly, the desire in them fighting to see whose was grander, before kissing again.

It was like he wanted to pull her closer still, the barrier of clothes too much. Something told Alina that the lack of them wouldn't satisfy either of them anyways.

He kissed her jaw, travelling his way up to her earlobe.

"You make me weak." he whispered harshly, only to proceed to ravish the parts of her neck that were exposed.

"You make me strong." she answered, craning her neck to give him better access.

Growling, he gave her ass a hard squeeze and pushed her back against a tree. She could feel the tug and crunches of the leaves as he buried his hands in her hair but didn't care.

She wanted more.

And more.

She drew his lips back to hers. He reached for the belt which held her kefta closed.

"Sir!"

The next thing Alina knew was that she was standing against a tree, her back aching and her body cold, yet her face hot.

She looked at The Darkling, who seemed almost unperturbed as he smoothly fixed his hair and clothes, standing at a respectable distance from her.

Ivan appeared, seeming to be in a hurry.

Alina narrowed her eyes at him. As if she didn't dislike him enough already, the little shit.

"Moi Soverennyi, you are needed in the king's counsel immediately."

"Tell that grump I shall be there shortly."

Ivan bowed and left, not even acknowledging Alina's presence.

The Darkling cleared his throat. She turned her dark gaze on him, cheeks burning against the cold air, lips probably bruised.

What had just happened?

She wasn't sure, but she wanted to do it again. The Darkling, on the other hand, remained stoic as he stared into her eyes, as if nothing had occurred between them.

"I understand that you have been training on your own;" he said, as if he were talking to any other grisha, ever polite and smooth, voice reassuring yet commanding." I shall speak to Baghra so you may return to your lessons."

"But I don't wann-"

With him gone, the early winter sun felt cold.

"Miss Starkov." he bowed to her respectfully and marched away, disappearing from view within seconds.

Click here for chapter 6

[taylorlynn-art]

⭐️ Underneath It All ⭐️

by Strawberry Moon Rose

🍓🌙🌹

This is a one-shot I conjured poking fun at how based on appearance, Sailor Moon characters can really confuse a person. Taking place in the anime world, but with the Starlights cross-dressing like in the manga instead of using a physical disguise.

Also, it got me thinking, what if the Sailor Starlights came to Earth at the end of SuperS? It had to have taken a while to establish their idol group before debuting.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon or any of the characters. They belong to Naoko Takeuchi.

🍸

Soft jazz music drifts lazily around the bar. The flashy neon light of orange and green illuminates the Amazon Trio as they sip from their drinks in hand. Ice cubes slosh and clink as Tigers-Eye slams his glass down on the table in frustration.

"Man, we got scolded again," he complains. "And we're doing our best too..."

"She doesn't have to yell at us like that," Hawks-Eye agrees. "If catching Pegasus were that easy, we would have found him by now!"

Fish-Eye tips his head back daintily, sipping from his cocktail glass. "There are just so many targets, how are we supposed to know which one he's hiding in? It's like finding a needle in a haystack."

Hawks-Eye brushes through the photographs scattered across the bar top. "Hmm... None of these women are really catching my eye." He plucks a snapshot of a girl with braids and waves it in Tigers-Eye's face, knowing he has a thing for younger chicks. "What about this one? You interested?" he inquires.

Tigers-Eye yawns. "Too plain."

"How 'bout this?" Hawks-Eye tries again. If Tigers-Eye doesn't do something, he'll have to do something, and he isn't in the mood for another failure and reprimanding from the old hag, Zirconia.

"Too old."

"And this one?"

Tigers-Eye makes a face and waves his hand dismissively. "Ugh, not another guy. See if Fish-Eye wants him," he says.

"What? Where? Lemme see!" Fish-Eye slides off his stool and squeezes between his cronies. Hearts form in his blue eyes when he catches a glimpse of the target. "Oh my gosh! You're kidding!" He snatches the photograph out of Hawks-Eye's hand so fast it's nothing but a blur.

"What're you getting so excited about? He's not nearly as handsome as I am," Tigers-Eye says, unable to conceal the tinge of jealousy in his voice.

"He's right," Hawks-Eye boasts. "We're much more good-looking."

"You two don't know who this is?" Fish-Eye asks incredulously.

Tigers-Eye and Hawks-Eye stare at their friend.

"It's Seiya Kou from the Three Lights!" Fisheye kisses the picture and twirls around. "I'm so lucky!"

"Never heard of him," Hawks-Eye comments in a voice as flat as cardboard.

"Me neither." Tigers-Eye tosses his orange hair. "He must not be that popular."

But Fish-Eye isn't listening to them. "Oh my, I wonder what kind of girls he likes? How should I approach him?

Tigers-Eye and Hawks-Eye swivel around in their seats and reach for their drinks. By now they know it's useless trying to talk to him when he goes gaga over a target.

"Cross-dressing again?" Hawks-Eye sounds bored.

"Why, of course!" Fisheye gazes dreamily at the glossy portrait. The celeb is clad in a red suit and yellow tie. A bright rose is stuffed in the breast pocket. Ebony bangs fall messily above spunky blue eyes, accompanied by a microphone and crooked smile.

Fish-Eye giggles. Seiya Kou... Even your name is beautiful! I'll seduce you for sure!

🎸

"Thank you! Goodnight everybody!" The lead singer gives a final wave into the sea of faces. The crowd erupts into applause as the Three Lights exit the stage. It's a warm Saturday night and they just wrapped up their second concert at the venue.

"Great job tonight, guys. They absolutely loved you." Their manager gives each member a pat on the back.

"Thank you, sir," Taiki replies politely. "We did our best."

Seiya accepts a towel from a stage worker and dabs the sweat off her forehead. She cranes her head up to the night sky, breathing heavily. Princess... Where are you now? Can you hear our message? They have only been on Earth for two months, but she and the others are already used to cross-dressing as a boy band.

"Seiya, we are heading back to change," Taiki calls over her shoulder.

"You coming or what?" Yaten taps her foot impatiently.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Seiya shakes her head and follows them down the corridor to their dressing rooms. The high from performing hasn't worn off yet, and she hums the whole way, a bounce in her step.

Once she reaches her assigned room, Seiya shuts the door and starts collecting her things. The open window allows a humid breeze to drift in, carrying the sweet fragrance of a beautiful spring night - cherry blossoms and rain. She can still hear the murmurs of the crowd in the distance.

Knock. Knock.

"Come in!" the Starlight calls absentmindedly, figuring it's Taiki or Yaten.

Creak... The door creeps open. When Seiya glances up, she catches her breath.

Standing against the door frame appears to be one of the most gorgeous women Seiya's ever seen before. The beauty's pale-blue hair is tied in a high ponytail that cascades in lustrous waves to her hips. She wears a flowing white dress and strappy sandals.

It's like she forgot how to speak. "Can I help you?" Seiya clears her throat and quickly fluffs her hair.

Fish-Eye smiles and brushes a stray curl out of his face. "Actually, you can," he says in a high, silky voice.

"Oh? How so?" Whenever a cute girl is in sight, she can't help it - she's always been a flirt.

Fish-Eye giggles and casually eases the door shut behind him. "I really enjoyed the concert, Seiya. You shine like a true star out there. I was wondering if I could get a souvenir of some sort to make the experience all the more memorable..."

"I'm flattered," Seiya replies smoothly. She closes the distance between them in a few swift steps, drinking in Fish-Eye's sparkly perfume. "What do you have in mind?"

"An autograph would be wonderful." Fish-Eye bats his mascara-coated lashes. "But anything from a superstar like you would make me the happiest fan in the world."

A grin spreads across Seiya's face. They gaze at each other for a few seconds, holding a teasing conversation with their eyes. Seiya reaches for a blank notebook resting on the nearby table and pulls a marker out of her pocket. Gliding close to the pretty stranger, she says, "And to whom shall I make this autograph out to?"

"To 'Sakana'," Fish-Eye says breezily.

"Sakana, huh?" Seiya smiles quizzically at him. "That's a cute name you have."

"You think so?"

Squeak, squeak, goes the marker as Seiya scribbles out the autograph. She signs her name with a flourish, tears the paper out of the notebook, and hands it to Fish-Eye. "There you are," she declares.

"Oh, thank you so much! An autograph from my favorite male idol! I'll treasure it forever!"

Still smiling, Seiya puts her hands in her pockets. "Anything else I can help you with...?"

Fish-Eye carefully folds the autograph into his purse. "Oh, perhaps there is..." he purrs.

"Yeah?"

"But it's a bit of a secret..." Fish-Eye fingers Seiya's collar, pulling playfully on her tie.

"I'm intrigued," she whispers.

Fish-Eye stands on his tiptoes and whispers enticingly into Seiya's ear, "I'd like to get to know you better..."

"Is that so?"

He outlines the buttons on Seiya's jacket. "These ties can be tricky, can't they? Let me assist you in taking it off..."

Seiya chuckles. "That sounds quite tempting, but you see, I have to go soon... The others are waiting for me," she answers honestly, regretfully.

"Oh, they can wait, can't they?" If Fish-Eye gets any closer, they'll be a grilled cheese sandwich.

"I'm sorry." Unwillingly, Seiya gently pushes him off her. "You're extremely attractive, Sakana, but... I can't. I wish I could, but I can't."

Fish-Eye draws back as if he'd been slapped across the face. He widens his eyes innocently. "Why not?"

'Because you'd find out I'm a woman and then our image would be ruined', Seiya wants to say, but responds, "I'm not who you think I am."

"What do you mean? I know who you are. You're just making an excuse, aren't you?"

"No, I-"

"Fine." Fish-Eye steps back. The corners of his mouth crumple into a scowl. "I see how it is. I guess it's goodbye to you then, isn't it?"

Before Seiya can respond, a blue curtain appears out of the air and drops over Fish-Eye with a whoosh. It raises to reveal his true self - bubbly blue outfit, scaly hands, and black Amazon marking on his forehead.

"Who are-?!" Seiya stumbles back.

"ONE!" A red board rises from under the floorboards, slamming into the Starlight's back.

"TWO!" Cold, metal clamps bind Seiya's wrists and ankles.

"THREE!"

Seiya screams as her dream mirror emerges, taking shape bit by bit. Harsh light blinds her, and wind whips her hair all over. It feels like someone is reaching into her chest and ripping out her insides. What's going on? What is this?!

Once it stops, she slumps forward in exhaustion, supported only by the painful cuffs pinning her to the plank.

"Now to take a look inside your beautiful dream mirror!" Fish-Eye saunters towards the trapped idol. He grabs hold of the glowing mirror on both sides. It's shining brighter than any one he's seen before! His eyes glimmer in hope. Could this be the home of Pegasus after all?

"Y-You lied to me! Who are you really?" Seiya shouts, raising her head. It's obvious by the flat chest and deep voice that this monster is male, and on top of that, the enemy! How could she fall into his trap? Anger and humiliation course through her veins. She thrashes harder, but cannot break free.

Fish-Eye chuckles, but doesn't reply. He stretches the mirror on both sides like putty and dives his head inside her dream mirror. Seiya shrieks in agony.

"Where is Pegasus?" he says aloud, looking all over. But instead of finding a winged horse with a golden horn, he sees flowing images of a beautiful, red-haired princess catered by three female guardians in black uniforms.

Fish-Eye throws his head out of the mirror in horror. "H-H-How dare you deceive me! That's my job!" he cries, his voice wavering. I fell for a woman in disguise? Impossible! This can't be right...

Skin crawling and cheeks burning, Fish-Eye stands back. How humiliating! "What a waste of a trip. Well, either way, I suppose you'll have to die now, Seiya. Come out, my Remless! Superstar Daistuaa!"

A creature climbs out of his shadow - a skinny girl with a guitar as a torso and a microphone as a tail. She snaps the cord like a whip and says in a mouse-like voice, "It's showtime!"

"I'm leaving this up to you, Daisutaa," Fish-Eye barks.

"Of course!”

A black hole rimmed with water appears in the air. Fish-Eye does a backwards somersault into it and vanishes.

The dream mirror returns to Seiya's body and the board and restraints disappear. She falls to her knees, feeling dizzy and weak.

"Hello, everybody!" Daisutaa sings. "I'm so happy to be here! I've got a super great show for you!"

Seiya glares up at the Remless. A phage? No, it's different... She reaches into her pocket for her transformation brooch.

"Uh-uh! Please turn off all cell phones and electronic devices during the show!" Daisutaa lunges at Seiya. They crash into the wooden table which breaks into jagged pieces beneath them. Seiya groans, her back throbbing, and tries to throw the Remless off her. Daisutaa's three-inch nails are like knives, poised at her throat.

"Get...off...me!" she grunts, turning her head to the side in a feeble attempt to avoid the monster slicing her jugular.

"You want an encore, you say?" Daisutaa crows. "Alrighty then!"

Bam! The dressing room door slams open, nearly flying off its hinges.

"Star Sensitive Inferno!"

"Star Gentle Uterus!"

The Remless snaps her head up, frozen like a deer in the headlights as the two combined attacks hit her head on. "What? Aghhh! STAGE OUT!" she wails, crumbling to glass. The shadow on the floor fades, and a billow of smoke dissipates in an upright spiral circle. The Dead Moon magic is gone.

"Seiya!" Maker cries, hurrying over to her.

"What happened? We heard you screaming." Healer kneels beside Seiya. "What was that thing? A phage?"

"So they have invaded here too?" Maker murmurs gravely.

Seiya coughs and shakes her head. Grunting, she pulls herself into a sitting position. "No, it was something else..."

Healer helps Seiya to her feet. "Well, either way, it's gone now. Let's hope we never see anything like it again."

"Yeah. Just forget it happened," Seiya mutters, flushing as she recalls Sakana.

She knew she wanted to.

✨

"Back so soon, Fish-Eye?" Tigers-Eye swings around in his chair at the bar.

Ignoring him, Fish-Eye plops down in his usual spot and pours himself a drink. In one sip, he downs the entire thing and reaches to refill the glass.

"Whoa, easy!" Hawks-Eye jokes. "Did it go that bad?"

Tigers-Eye's green eyes dance. "That Seiya dude rejected you, didn't he?" he says gaily.

"Can it, you two," Fish-Eye grumbles, studying his red nail polish. "You don't know the half of it."

"So what happened?" Hawks-Eye asks.

A bloom of red appears in Fish-Eye's cheeks. "Let's just say that underneath it all, Seiya Kou wasn't who I thought he was."

Tigers-Eye smirks. "I could have told you all those boy bands are bogus."

"Shut up, Tigers-Eye. Just shut up."