#ORIONS ALIVE OF COURSE OF COURSE HOW COULD I EXPECT ANYTHING LESS

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Blood Stained Name (AldoxFem!Reader)

Requested by @svonschroeder​

@owba-chan​ @inglourious-imagines​ @war-obsessed​ @tealaquinn​ @struggling-bee​ @frozenhuntress67​

Let me know if you wanna be added to the basterds or OUATIH taglist :)

You were, what some may call, a legend during the war. And like many other legends, you served as a warning to the cruel, and an idol to the just.  And, like any other legend, you were hunted. In fact, there was quite a large bounty placed on your head, complimentary of the nazi party.

Dead or alive. The only problem was...your name was unknown. Your age was unknown. Your nationality was unknown. Any general description of you was flawed, full of anomalies thanks to  fearful stutters and shudders. You made it known that you were helping resistances and rebellions throughout Europe. With that many allies, and so few clues, you were even harder to track down. The truth was, it was hard to hunt a hunter...because in spite of all you'd done for others, every rescue, every code, every message... your real gift was hunting. Nazi hunting, to be precise. So, with nothing better to go on than "nazi-hunter," you were dubbed 'Orion,' and filed as an enemy of the state. The Orion Initiative started in 1941: An extensive mission and intensive investigation aimed at tracking you down, led by your polar opposite, the Jew Hunter: Hans Landa. Rumors of the nazi hunting started just months after the nazi party took over... An official (though top secret) report was started in 1940, when the hunt was clearly more than just a rumor. An official investigation was launched in 1941. By late 1942, a group of nazi hunters was identified, and originally considered a set of 'copy cats.' The theory was struck down...and the group became known as the ‘basterds.' It was now 1944... The Orion mystery remained unsolved, making it the longest investigation Landa had ever been on. It was a record... Something he was not proud of. He had to solve it.... The only problem was he'd never seen such a clean trail...such meticulous murder... Nearly a perfect crime, every time. Just enough evidence left behind to drive him insane, and just less than enough to piece anything together. It was done on purpose. It was a mockery, and he knew it.

What he didn't know was your name... In fact, nearly no one knew it. The French Resistance knew you as Anaïs Bellamy, a saving grace. To the Soviets, Tatiana Zima. To the Belgian Resistance, you were Cassandra Willems. But that was as many names as Landa could collect (through the most heinous means). Neither of them were legitimate, and all of them led to dead ends. You were a myth with a thousand names. Faceless, but full of lore. Each resistance that knew you, knew you as a hero. Nothing more, nothing less. Each nazi that knew you, never saw anything again. To the allies, you were an asset. To the nazis, you were a faceless, nameless menace. To Hans Landa, you were an abomination, and an embarassment. He would uncover your name and face,  and close that case and file, if it was the last thing he did.

He swore that he'd find you. You were just like him at the end of the day. You used the same strategies, same intimidation, you played the same game... Of course, you knew that. And it drove you crazy. Because you wanted to be nothing like him... Nothing like your father. Unaware of your million names, you were simply Y/n to him. His daughter.  To you, he was simply a nazi. Dead to you, the moment he first put on his SS uniform... But he didn't know that. He was too busy with work, and you didn't quite mind your game of cat and mouse. You liked driving him crazy without him even knowing. As he worked overtime trying to find a single connection, you smirked, as he rattled on and on about names and clues. He’d never been so frantic over any case before... Every once in a while, you’d throw him a bone. A useless, broken bone, at that. A puzzle piece to a puzzle without a picture.  Still, he’d smile at you, the only thing in the world he had, and sighed, “Danke, Y/n...” Y/N.  Very few people knew that to be your name. And one yank hillbilly by the name of Lieutenant Aldo Raine knew it.... 

By accident, of course. He never quite had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, but he did know enough of your friends in the resistance, and as a basterd, he was privy to some information most people weren't. It was rare, but he somehow connected the dots. He saw one of your identifications. One of the many.... He may have been a bootlegging redneck from the humble Maynardville Tennessee, but he was no idiot. And he practically had a photographic memory.

There were faces he never forgot. And yours, on those fake French papers, was one of them. Your name stuck with him... Your name....the thing you hated most about yourself.  "You're so much like him!" "Same eyes!" "Same brains, too!" You forced a smile through it all. You couldn't take much more of this. You were trapped in a crowded lobby, in a cinema, surrounded by your enemy. Your name... This was the exact reason very few of your allies knew your real name. They equated you to your father. They were suspicious of you, a possible double crosser... It took so much to convince people of your true colors. But...you couldn't blame them. You still carried all the blame of your father's sins. You didn't think twice. You just fought. And you fought the urge to cry and scream, and burn the place down in that moment. Landa was a blood stained name, and there was nothing you could do about it... You sighed, as your father interceded, accepted compliments on your behalf...and proceeded to encourage you to mingle. "I want grandchildren some day." It took every ounce of you to brace yourself, and remind yourself that there was already a plan for the night. You forced a smile as you lost yourself in the crowd, away from him, and leaned over the railing of the second floor, watching the final night of your life come and go, there at the Nations Pride premier. ******** The war went on, and the basterds built up a way into Emmanuelle Mimeau's cinema: Operation Kino. Along the way, Bridget revealed she had eyes on the sinde of the regime....and the theater. She showed the basterds the picture of her spy.  A 'darling little thing,' as she held up a newspaper clipping. A daughter of a renowned nazi officer. A face Aldo recognized.... but no... It couldn’t be... He’d believe it when he saw it. And there you were, in the lobby with the rest of the nazis, for the premier of Nation's Pride. Aldo spotted you from across the room as he walked in with Bridget, Omar, and Donny. He was caught off guard, seeing a legend like you in person was almost like seeing a ghost story come to life. He whispered with astonishment, "Y/N Landa." You had spotted them from a mile away, on the second floor, as you leaned over the rails. You smiled, having learned to read lips long ago,  as you looked Aldo in the eye. You knew time was running out. You knew Operation Kino in and out. It was a sign of the times...so you may as well have fun with what you had left of it. You winked at Aldo, and blew him a kiss. He was flustered for a split second. 

Donny snickered, Omar smirked, and Bridget looked away, blushing as she giggled. Only moments before the boys could make their way to you for last minute updates, they ran into a little problem. Your father. ....Still, Aldo smiled and nodded snarkily as he made conversation in an embarassingly tragic excuse for Italian. Aldo couldn't believe it.... Hans Landa had no idea who his own daughter was. **********1943*********** "Monsieur Raine, you've just missed her!" The Basterds' contact in the French Resistance, Etienne, chuckled. "Who?" He smiled, "Your counterpart. Orion." Donny raised his eyebrow, "You said 'her'?" Etienne nodded, "Her." He held out a copy of your resistance identification. Aldo held the paper, and looked up, "Orion's a woman?" He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the fake name: Anaïs Bellamy. Hirschberg leaned over his shoulder, inspecting the documents... a bit disappointed, having hoped that Orion was an American. Etienne rolled his eyes, "German. Y/n Landa. One of the best we got." Another resistance fighter smiled as he cleaned nazi blood off his guns, "Good kid. Good aim. Fast runner." ---Meanwhile--- "Verdammt. Verdaaaamnt. Verdamnt." You muttered under your breath, as you climbed through your bedroom window, threw off your bloody, war-torn clothes, and threw on something presentable. You quickly glanced into your mirror. You popped your thumb in your mouth, and then wiped away some blood from your cheekbone. Your hair was a mess, and you looked tired. Perfect. You practically flew down the stairs, and rushed down the halls. You had a job to do in Paris. You couldn’t exactly waste time conversing with that fiend that dared call himself a father.

But you were stopped by an old familiar voice. "Another bad night, liebling?" You sighed, and shuffled toward the doorway in the dining room. "Ja..." Your father sighed as he put down his newspaper, and looked at you, as he smoked his pipe. He shook his head, and went on about being worried, and telling you for the millionth time that you should see a doctor. "No, but I-" "Your grades are slipping! Don't think I haven't noticed." He grumbled a little.

"I'm still graduating next semester." "You're still seeing a doctor." "But-" "Tomorrow morning." "But." He raised his voice, "Case closed." That was it... 

Once Hans Landa said 'case closed,' he meant it. ************************ The night went on, as expected... Mostly.

As he interrogated Aldo and Smitty, he expected he had it all figured out. "What shall the history books read?" Aldo raised his eyebrow, "Yeah? An' what about Y/n? Ain’t that kid still in the theater? Be a shame. Ain’t that right, Utivich?" Utivich smirked a little, “Yes, sir.” Landa stopped smirking... His face grew spiteful, his eyes narrowed with the intent to kill, "Tell me how you know my daughter's name or I swear I'll send word to the theater, I'll have the rest of your men shot, and-"

"Relax Landa. I know all my associate's names." Landa shook  his head, "Associates?" He smiled, thinking he had it figured out again, "She was infiltrating your basterds, and didn't tell me!" He grinned, "I tell you, that girl is just like me. That's it, isn't it?" Aldo smirked this time, and shook his head once, "Nope." Landa's face fell. If looks could kill... "So you either make that there deal, or not. Y/n is my man on the inside. And ain't no way you takin em boys out without settin' em bombs off." Landa left the desk, and immediately sent orders out for you to be found, and escorted directly to him. Then he took the deal with the general.  He would deal with you later. He couldn't tell if what Aldo said was true, but he desparately hoped it wasn't... and even more so, he wanted you out of that cinema. As Smitty and Aldo were escorted onto the truck to be taken behind allied lines, a nazi ran up to Landa with some news. You were not found... He was silent for a moment, and looked down as he nodded slowly, bracing himself for the possibility that you never would be found. Perhaps, you'd gone out for some air. Maube you'd gone home, and finally got some sleep. Or you went out looking for your dear old dad... Maybe....maybe you'd met someone worth loving there, a high ranking officer. (You had...but Aldo wasn't exactly the man Landa had in mind for you.) "Sir." Hans snapped out of it, and nodded as he made his way to his seat. Everything went well...too welll... The next thing he knew, Aldo had carved a swastika onto his face, and as he screamed in agony, Landa saw a nazi truck pulling up.  A hijacked one. One with three familiar faces. Two basterds, and a hunter.

Landa was a smart man, but, his hope and sentimenatality won out for once. He believed for a few moments you were there to save him, that you'd apprehended Donny and Omar, and you'd given him a fighting chance. You were just like him, after all, all the people said so. Maybe you'd be a double crosser, and help him. But you didn't. As blood from Aldo's mark dripped into Landa's eyes, he looked up at you, betrayed for a moment. Then....it all came together. He pursed his lips, as he pieced every single bit of evidence together.  You knew things there was no way for you to know. You had been right under his nose all along. It had been the perfect place to hide.... He gave one psychotic smile, as he watched you raise your pistol, and aim it at him. "I knew you'd outsmart me some day." You heard Aldo step up from behind you, "Y/n...he's still your father. We can take care of this." Landa, at the moment, was truly intrigued at what would happen next. But you didn't put your gun down. You shook your head, not even looking at Aldo. In fact, you looked at your ‘father’ the whole time.  You muttered, "I don't have a father." He seemed betrayed again, for an instant, but then again, you were just like him. A double crosser with a mission. He nodded. He smiled as he nodded.

He accepted it... You were just like him, after all... And he finally had an answer to the Orion Initiative. It would remain unofficial, and lost... But the case was finally closed. To him, at least. The Orion Initiative had an answer. It had been right under his nose, all along. He really was impressed, and psychotic as it was...he was proud of you. But the feeling was not mutual. You knew even after all that, he wasn't sorry. And the guilt of the nazis had done would forever weigh on you...So one less nazi in the world, one last hunt was all you could ask for. The war was over, but at that moment, there were things you and every other resitance, soldier, and victim would never forget. This was it... He smiled, and shrugged, "Case closed, Orion." You pulled the trigger. At that moment, there were thousands filing into streets, drinking, celebrating, dancing in the streets.... But when the confetti was swept up, and the soldiers went home, and the toppled regimes’ dust settled...everyone would have somewhere to go.

The gunsmoke cleared, and you took a breath, for the first time in a long time. You lowered your shoulders, and unclenched your jaw... For the first time in a long time, you could rest... But you had no place to call home. No one to call your own, in spite of the thousands that knew you, your face, and your story, few knew your name... Even fewer knew you. But you felt a hand on your shoulder, and a soft voice with a strange accent. "Y/n..." And you turned to see a warm smile, and kinder eyes: Lieutenant Aldo Raine... But he'd tell you you could call him Aldo, later that day.  And your world turned upside down. "Well...” He put his hands at his hips and sighed as he smiled at you, “You ain't part of the deal, Orion, and I sure as hell am gon' get chewed out for this...but I think we'll find somethin' for ya." You smiled genuinely for the first time in a long time... That was the first, honest thing you'd heard in longer than you could remember... He took your hand, as you walked with the basterds to the west, to the general, and to freedom. As you smiled at Aldo, and he smiled at you, you knew you were going somewhere safe, somewhere far. Perhaps on a mountain, somewhere in the middle of Tennessee. It wouldn't be like the mountains in Austria that you knew, but, a kinder place, one far from war, and farther from your memories of it. There in Aldo's eyes, you found something new as the sun began to rise in the horizon. A beginning... A place to call your own, a name without a blood stain.

[athenaquinn]

Finally Free || Orion, Nic, & Athena

TIMING: 12:30-1am ish, October 20th LOCATION: Quinn Household, Harris Island PARTIES: @3starsquinn, @athenaquinn, and @bountybossier SUMMARY: Nic is a Dad. CONTENT: Physical and emotional abuse mentions

“Athena? Athena. We have to do something.” Orion’s world had so drastically shifted that he had no idea how to feel. His brain was going haywire, feeling sick to his stomach and angry one moment before shifting to terrified and on the verge of tears. It had been over twenty minutes now. Orion only knew because he had been staring at the oven slowly counting the time for him. Twenty minutes of Orion silently kneeling in the puddle of blood collecting around his parent’s bodies. Twenty minutes of listening to Athena filter through her emotions in a rapid fashion rivaling his own. Twenty minutes of waiting for the world to stop spinning or asteroids to fall from the sky or for the bombs to go off. The world had to be ending, right? His parents were dead, one of them taken by Rio’s own hands. How did anything continue to go on after that? How was Rio ever supposed to walk again? Was he expected to go to school? To meet up with Blanche before work or hang out with Ariana and Layla? How could he kiss Winston ever again? Rio couldn’t picture anything besides kneeling on this floor, watching the oven remind him that it had been twenty-two minutes since his life had ended. Twenty-four.  Twenty-six.

Thirty-seven minutes later, Rio remembered that moment of clarity when he had taken the knife from Athena. How everything had finally made sense. There were no other alternatives here. If Orion hadn’t done it, his parent’s would have killed them both and continued to take the lives of innocent people. This action had indirectly saved lives. There had been no choice. Only what had to be done. As far as morals had gone, it was the closest Rio had ever come to agreeing with his parents.

As far as he knew, Athena still hadn’t responded. “Athena?” Orion tried again, moving or the first time in thirty-seven minutes to look over at Athena. She was like an entirely different person. Not a single feature seemed recognizable even though nothing physically had changed. But the Athena he was staring at wasn’t the same as any image of his sister that he had seen before. “Athena. We can’t- I don’t know what to do. You’re the one that knows what to do. Please. Tell me what to do. Please.”

Her brother’s words were fuzzy. Just like when they’d gone swimming as children and he’d called out for her when she dove into the water and tried to hold her breath too much because there was a certain thrill that came coupled with being underwater for just too long. Athena sat, arms wrapped around her legs as she stared at the refrigerator. There was a Christmas card on it, one from last year. Their whole family was on it, and Athena could smell the pine needles, could smell the gingerbread that she never wanted too much of but found herself devouring anyway. She could taste it now - burning hot - and she felt the salt from her tears dried against her cheeks. She couldn’t focus. Her parents were dead. Her parents were dead by her own hand. Her parents had wanted to kill her brother for at least three years now and she hadn’t seen that. She kept staring at the photograph on the refrigerator, as if that would make everything better.

She didn’t want them to be alive again. The thought crossed her mind in passing first, before becoming more salient, more solid. Athena didn’t want her parents alive. She found that thought to be overwhelming. She’d never thought of a life without her parents. They were strong, they had made her strong. That was what they were supposed to do. Except they hadn’t. You broke us down and tried to mold us like we were clay or something. Her brother’s voice cut through her thoughts again and she dug her nails into her thighs. She had saved her brother. She was born to better the world, and her brother was the most important person to her. She couldn’t let him die.

She did what she had to do. Athena finally focused in on her brother’s words, unsure of how many times he’d called her so far. She glanced over to him, but she didn’t make eye contact. She wasn’t sure if she could. “I - I’m sorry.” She whispered, voice wavering. Turning away again, gaze intensely focused onto the refrigerator. “I - I can’t, Ri.” Lips barely moving, she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him.

Athena wasn’t fixing this. Why wasn’t she fixing this? That was what she did. What she had always done. Athena always took charge, always knew exactly what to do. When Orion wavered and began panicking, Athena always stood strong and knew exactly what to do. For better or for worse. Even when Rio hated the answers that Athena had to give, at least she gave them. So why was she silent now? He pushed himself up, his legs asleep and wobbling beneath him as he stumbled over to the counter, grabbing onto a towel and wetting them under the sink. He started with himself, scrubbing desperately at the blood that stained his hands. Of course it wouldn’t come off. Why would it? Even dead, he couldn’t escape his parents. After he had done the best he could he moved over towards Athena, crouching down to meet her and gently pressed the wash cloth against her arm in an attempt to begin wiping the blood away. “What do we do then? If you don’t- What am I supposed to do then?�� Rio tried asking again, closer to her than he had been since they were children. Both literally and figuratively. And yet, Athena couldn’t make eye contact with him. And the words he spoke seemed to rebound off of her completely as if they had never even been said.

Nothing. If she couldn’t do this, then Orion didn’t stand a chance. Would anybody believe that this was justified? There was so much blood. So much violence. Self defense only took the two so far. People would realize that this went farther than that. If Athena didn’t do something then they had no chance, right? “I’m going to check your stomach, okay? I can smell the blood from when you were pushed down.” Without a reply, Orion took that as an okay and slowly pulled the side of Athena’s shirt up and pressed the soaked, bloody towel against it. As he wiped away the blood an image slowly started to become visible behind the wound. A tattoo? Since when did Athena have one of those? It took another minute before he realized what the tattoo was of. A series of dots symbolizing constellations. Orion. Rio’s arm fell down to his side as he stared at it. It was… simple. Not the usual grandeur that Athena loved so much. It was smaller and tucked away so it wasn’t on view for all to see. It was for herself more than anyone else. Rio had always known that Athena held a weird sense of dedication towards him, but never thought that she had actually cared enough to do something like this. “I uh- I didn’t know you had this.” Rio pushed away from Athena and slid back across the kitchen floor, not stopping until his back ran into the door handle of a kitchen cabinet. He was out of his depth, he knew that much. He had no experience with this and definitely didn’t have the stomach for it. How could he fix something like this? The logical steps flashed in his mind. Clean the mess. Get out of the house. Find an alibi. All of that was easy to say and impossible to accomplish by himself. But he had to try.

For a brief moment, Orion considered the possibility of leaving. Just standing up and walking out. Allowing his sister to handle the fallout by herself. But how long would she stay silent? She would talk eventually. She would feel betrayed. Rio couldn’t risk it coming back to him later. Leaving wasn’t an option, but staying wasn’t either. He had to do something. If he didn’t, both of them were screwed. But he knew he couldn’t do it alone. He needed someone. His body functioned without him, taking control and scrolling through his phone. Of course, he knew exactly who he needed to call. Someone that he could trust and that might understand. Before he had a chance to chicken out, he dialed. “Hello? I- I’m sorry to call so late. I need your help. Please. It’s really bad.”

The more Nicodemus worried, the less he seemed able to sleep. And fuck, was he worried. About everyone and nothing all at once. It was a wonder he hadn’t been paralyzed with it, the way it bunched his shoulders and tensed his jaw. It was worry that had him answering the phone after one ring and a quick glance at the caller ID. “Hey kid.” He had answered and then his voice petered off into silence as he listened. I need your help. He walked out of his room and went for his keys. Please. It’s really bad. Keys in hand, he ran to his truck. Ran towards something rather than away. The hunter cursed the machinery for not going fast enough as he tore over the bridge that connected East End to Harris Island. The smell of copper slammed against him as he stepped towards the darkened home. Manners went to the wayside as he strong-armed the front door open. The smell of blood was thicker in his nose. On his tongue. His brow furrowed as he shook his head.

“Rio?”

Nicodemus called out as he did what he had been raised to do: follow the blood. Right toward the kitchen as the flooring creaked under his weight. Fuck, there was a lot of it. His eyes didn’t linger on the dead. He knew lethality when he saw it and it didn’t take long to put two-and-two together. Those were his parents. His gaze, heavy yet quick with concern, went to the living. He breathed in and out slowly before he went to Rio. His sister was there and there was blood on her too. Wherever she was looking, wherever she stared off to, it didn’t seem to be anywhere in the four walls. “Kid,” he said as softly as his gravel-laden voice could manage. Tentatively, he reached a hand toward him but did not touch him. “I’m gonna help but...the hell happened?”

“I’m in here,” Orion echoed when he heard Nic calling out his name. The scene hadn’t changed since Rio had called him and begged him to come over as quickly as possible. Rio had moved from the puddle of blood that his father had left behind and was instead making new blotches of blood on the floor beneath his stained jeans. He had moved away from Athena who had barely moved from her near comatose state. The image left two dead bodies and then two kids in fetal positions on the kitchen floor trying to do anything but stare at their parents. There was so much blood everywhere. Rio did his best to clean it off of himself and Athena, but there was only so much he was able to accomplish on his own.

Orion’s heart sank at the concerned look on Nic’s face when he got into the kitchen. Getting a genuine look of care and concern was so foreign inside of this house that it was somehow more frightening than the sight of his dead parents just feet from him. “I-” How did he explain this? This was self defense, at least in a way it had been. Maybe it wasn’t completely necessary at the moment, but Rio knew what his parents would have done if given the chance. The only reason that they had even gotten as far as they had was because their parents had underestimated them. “They were going to kill us.” Rio settled on, “We had to stop them and then- and then it was too late to stop and we-” Rio stopped talking so that he could grab onto the counter top and use it to pull himself off the ground and onto his feet. Tears were beginning to stream down his cheeks but he couldn’t do anything to stop them. He just wanted Nic to make things better, maybe a hug or two. But he was covered in blood and didn’t want to get it on Nic too. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to call. I didn’t want to drag anyone into this but I don’t know what to do.”

Blood tracked on the floor like something wounded had passed through. As Nicodemus looked at Orion, he supposed something had. Even surrounded by the smell of copper and death setting in, the stressed furrow between his brow eased as he looked at Rio. Waited for him to talk. It wasn’t something that could be rushed. As the younger hunter talked, the older one fought the urge to say that it was better that they’re dead. It wasn’t what either of the siblings needed to hear and even he knew that, as corrosive as he could be. He went to Rio, a steady hand held out as the young man hefted himself up. There was blood on Rio’s hands, his shirt, everywhere. Nicodemus didn’t pay attention to it as he tentatively rested a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t say that it would be okay or that it was going to be alright. In that bloodied house, it wasn’t right to say. “I gotcha, kid,” was what he said as he gently pulled Rio into a one armed hug. Not long ago, he had been there to assure another of White Crest’s youth that the world hadn’t ended. Nell. He didn’t have a blanket with him this time. When would this fucking town let them rest? “We’ll get this handled, alright? Not goin’ anywhere ‘til we do. Nothin’ to apologize for.”

He let go of Rio and crouched down by Athena. Nicodemus’s voice teetered toward soft as he spoke. “We gotta get rid of the blood. D’you…” His words trailed as he glanced back toward Rio. “Ain’t gonna rush but we gotta get started somewhere. Might as well start with you two. Sound good?”

She could hear voices. One of them was familiar - her brother. She knew that she would recognize his voice anywhere. Maybe it was a twin thing, or maybe it was just the general familiarity that came along with knowing someone for twenty-one years. Athena couldn’t place the other voice. Their parents were dead. She couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t sure if she could even talk, right now. She still had blood on her hands and on her shirt, despite the work that her brother had done. She could feel his steady hand against her ribcage, against her hip. She was supposed to help him. Why couldn’t she?

The back of her throat burned, and she wondered for a moment if she was going to be sick. She was so used to blood - used to anything others must consider macabre. Heck, she’d been perfectly fine in every single biology class she’d taken, and had been more than okay with watching her father perform countless surgeries. Athena couldn’t deal with the red on the floor now. Then the other voice was louder and right by her ear and she felt her hand fly up to her mouth, catching a would-be scream. “I - who - I…” she trailed off again. “Okay. I - it’s so red.” Goodness, what kind of first impression was she making? Could you consider it a necessity to make a good first impression when your parents were dead on the ground? “Yes. It’s important to take things one at  a time.” Her voice sounded practically robotic even to her. “I’m - you know who I am, right?” She looked between the man and her brother, not quite making eye contact with either of them. “We have soap by the sink and more in a closet just down the hallway.” She went to go stand up but couldn’t, her legs far too heavy to move. She was supposed to be the one light on her feet, always. “I - can - Ri?” She looked over to her brother, making eye contact for the first time in she didn’t know how long. “You - can you?”

Without Nic here, Orion honestly wasn’t sure he would have been able to do anything. Dragging him into this was not what Rio had wanted at all, but it had felt like a necessary evil. Or maybe that was just selfishness. The part of him that knew what this could mean if the police had found out. The Quinns had been well respected around town. Rio had always been the weird, quiet one. Would it have been that much of a stretch to think that he had snapped one day? Rio had only just finally found a life worth living in. For once, when he was in danger he wasn’t ready to accept his death. He had too many people in his life that he lived for now. He had to try to protect that. Nic was one of those relationships that Rio found so precious. It was only strengthened further by the man’s quick arrival and agreeing to help just based on the small amount of information that Rio was able to relay. When Nic pulled Rio into a hug, Rio wanted to cry. It didn’t matter how the length or size of the hug. It meant everything to him. He couldn’t tell if he was repeating his thanks in his head or if he kept telling Nic thank you on instinct, but it was all that ran through his head.

Athena spoke, a complete sentence for the first time since their mom had died. She wasn’t herself, that much was painfully obvious. Who knew that when worst came to worst, Orion would be the functioning sibling? Of course, this situation was far different from any other that the twins had been through together. “Yeah- yeah of course I’ll grab it.” Rio grabbed for more rags and soap, turning the faucet on and leaving it on as he went back over towards Athena and Nic. “I- uh.. I’m sorry in advance, Nic. It’s not always a pretty sight.” Any hunter that had been working long enough would have their fair share of scars. But any hunter worth their salt would easily be able to tell the difference. Athena’s usual hunter wounds were different than they had been before. Rio could tell when he tried to tend to the hip wound she had. Without Rio there, they had taken out their frustrations elsewhere. Her wounds would be a mixture of battle scars from Fae and other creatures and their parents. Rio’s entire body was a mixture of scars and burns caused by the cruelty of two parents dissatisfied with a child’s behavior. His wrist still stung, but Rio gingerly worked his hoodie up and over his head. The long sleeve shirt beneath was wet from blood soaking through it. After a long moment of internal debate, Rio decided to discard that as well, crossing his arms together afterwards to try to cover as much of his torso as he could. He needed new clothes. Athena did too. But first he needed to keep wiping blood away.

Worry came in at the eyes as Nicodemus looked them over. Wounds and wounding. He knew the two well. And he liked to think he knew Rio well enough to know that he wasn’t big on the latter. As he took soap and rag in hand, the hunter looked at the bodies of their parents. His eyes narrowed and it wasn’t a Christian thought that passed through him. Then again, he hadn’t been much of one for a long time. It didn’t linger long. “Rio,” he said as he looked back. “Ain’t nothin’ to apologize for, kid. You or her.” There was no way to describe Athena other than shell shocked but she seemed to be making do. As much a child could after doing away with their parents. Hunter children had that way about them. Making do with the crosses they were born to bear. Older hunters hadn’t done shit all to fix that.

Cleaning blood wasn’t strange to him and he took to it easily enough, working through the spatters with what could have been a troubling efficiency if he wasn’t numbed to it. “You two weren’t here,” he said as he looked at Rio, then at Athena. He waved his hand and ignored the pink tinge his fingertips took on. “An alibi, alright? Gonna make y’all up one. You weren’t here. That sound okay?” It would have to be, he thought with a grimace.

She could hear their voices but they still barely registered to her. Everything was a haze and her head felt far too heavy for its own good. Her eyes flickered up at the sound of her brother’s name - though the voice was still unfamiliar. How did Ri know all these people she didn’t? Athena brushed her hands against her skin where her hip had hit the table, tracing the growing bruise. She could feel his gaze on her for a moment and she looked up, nodding. They couldn’t be here. She wasn’t involved in the law by any means but she knew enough about it. Knew how to skirt it to some degree, because some people found fondness in the creatures she killed, and if she wasn’t careful she could get into trouble that batting her eyelashes and pouting to the school principal or any number of her teachers wouldn’t get her out of.

“Okay. We were not here. We were - we - Ri doesn’t live here anymore.” She looked at Nic, right in the eyes, looked at her brother too, but she didn’t register the eye contact. “I have friends. I can -” she winced for a moment as her fingertips found a particularly tender spot of skin. Athena took in a shaky breath. “I’ve never had an alibi before.”

Orion wasn’t sure what he would have done with Nic’s help here. He didn’t know how to handle Athena like this. He was pretty sure that she was in a state of shock which was understandable. All things considered, Rio probably should be. Though as the initial shock had begun to wear off Rio had found himself feeling increasingly... normal. If anything, the overwhelming feeling that took hold inside of Rio’s mind was relief. But he wasn’t quite sure how concerned he should be about that yet.

“Right. Alibis are a good idea.” Orion nodded in agreement, already thinking who he could ask.  It was crazy thinking about how many people came to mind, and how much had changed since he had lived in this house. He had Nic or Blanche or Winston to fall back to after this. He knew immediately that they would do anything for him, though he hardly wanted to put that stress on them. “It’s going to be okay,” Rio turned towards Athena in an attempt to comfort her, “We’ve had alibis our whole life. Covers for why we had to go home right after school and why we would disappear on weekends. Our twenty-first birthday just ended. It would make sense that you were out somewhere celebrating rather than at the house. Just find someone that you can trust, okay?” Tip swung back towards Nic, “I don’t know what the police are going to think of this. A home invasion, maybe?” Rio crossed his arms in thought as he pondered exactly what this scene looked like, because it looked personal. “In the basement. When police investigate they’re going to realize that my parents aren’t who they said they were. It’s... it’s pretty grim down there. Maybe they’ll think it was revenge?”

Nicodemus had barely ever needed to establish an alibi for himself, let alone for a pair of kids that had just murdered their abusive parents. Murdered. That was a word that had his heart thrumming wildly as he took in deep breaths to calm himself. It wasn’t murder. Self-defense. But he didn’t know how that would fly in White Crest. Rio didn’t deserve to have his life cut short because he protected himself. Neither did Athena. Not when they had severed the blood ties that tried to dictate how they were meant to live. What their lives meant. He met Athena’s eyes but could tell she wasn’t quite looking at him. That was fine. For now, distancing themselves from this however they could would work.

“Your birthdays?” The question came out slow. Uncertain. “Jesus fuckin’ Chri--Sorry, sorry.” Nicodemus didn’t swear in front of Rio. It had gotten easier over the months but with the smell of dead and blood in the air, it was hard. “Neither of you were here because you were out with friends doing birthday stuff like...like kids do. You weren’t here at all and hadn’t been most of the day.” They aren't kids anymore, he thought as he looked at them. They hadn’t been for a long time, he supposed. Childhood had a way of dying the moment your small hand curled around a knife hilt and you were told that death was the way of living. He knew he was a hypocrite to think it. “Can make it look like a home invasion, yeah. Kick the door in, break some stuff. Everyone has enemies. It looks enough like it’s personal.” Violent. Another word for it. A brow lifted as Rio mentioned the basement. “What’s down there?”

She wanted to back away from her brother’s touch, but she couldn’t. He was safe, and she had to believe that. He was all she had, in the end. Athena nodded again. “We’re twenty-one.” They were twenty-one, so why did Athena feel more like a vulnerable child than she’d felt in years? “We - Ri always - we always stay up in the last moments of our birthday together.” She shook her head, still not quite making eye contact. Athena wasn’t entirely sure if she could handle that. Someone she could trust. Her brother was the person she trusted most, but that wouldn’t work. The two of them would be too tied together, were that the case. Ariana. That was the only other option. She couldn’t come looking like this to her sorority house, and she and Ariana had a pact - to always be honest with one another. “I have someone.” She blinked, letting her breath slow down. Looked at her brother and mouthed - Ariana. Just so he would know. Just in case.

“Our parents…” wouldn’t have enemies, she wanted to say. Could Athena realistically say that right now? She wasn’t sure. She wanted to say that they were good, to say that they wanted to do good, and perhaps they had, in a certain way, but she also knew that they had just wanted to kill her and her brother, and had planned to try to kill her brother years before. That much she couldn’t forgive. “Down where?” She shook her head. “It’s - nothing. It's my dad’s - our dad’s workspace. He experimented. It’s - we watched, because it’s important to learn through practice.” She looked over to her brother, making a facsimile of eye-contact. It wasn’t quite there, not yet, but it was more there than it had been.

Athena seemed a million miles away. Orion didn’t know how to feel about that. The two of them were both victims, Rio knew that. But still he had always felt like the black sheep. Like his isolation was somehow worse or lonelier than hers was. But maybe that wasn’t completely the case. Rio didn’t have many friends growing up like Athena, but that meant that he didn’t have people in his life that he had to keep his entire life a secret from. That must have been just as lonely. Tonight, her ramblings seemed to speak to no one in particular. She spoke to Rio and Nic, but her voice drifted off as she said the words. By the end, when she talked about her parents it felt more like the same useless lines they had heard their entire lives rather than an actual explanation. Rio shifted eyes, meeting Nic’s before switching to give a concerned glance at Athena. Maybe Nic could help her get to wherever she was going after this. Rio was pretty confident that he could get back to his house safely and quietly.

Ignoring what she had said, Rio decided to explain himself. “My dad is- er well was a surgeon. He liked to… learn about Fae. Werewolves too, but mostly Fae. He would examine them. Try to find new weaknesses and ways to kill them. It wasn’t pretty. And there’s no way to clean it up. There’s a whole operating theater down there.” Rio didn’t want to clean up their mess. He wanted people to see them for who they actually were. Monsters. “Break some stuff…” Rio’s voice trailed off, imagining ways to sell the home invasion look. “Hold on.” He left the kitchen, sliding around the hall and into the garage, coming back with golf clubs that Athena and his dad would use when they went golfing together. Rio gripped one tightly in his hands, the only part of his body that seemed to feel much stress. Otherwise, he was eerily calm. “Where do we start?”

Athena seemed to be slowly coming back from wherever she had wandered to. Nicodemus thought it best to save any birthday wishes for a later time. Right then, with blood and scars out in the open, it didn’t feel right. None of it did but they were dealing with it as best they could. It is what it fuckin’ is, he thought. “Can get you to ‘em.” He nodded to her. They could figure it out later, when the scene was set and they were making their quick exits. As Rio explained what it was that was in their basement, his expression flattened. He had heard stories of hunters like that, the kind that liked to pick species apart in order to learn. He couldn’t say much. He picked them apart for a profit. So he didn’t say a thing. Not until Rio came back with a golf club in hand.

“Start from the outside in,” Nicodemus said. “I’ll go out, alright? You two can stay in here. Be back in a minute, alright? Ain’t leavin’ you.” The discomfort that filled him when he glanced at Rio and Athena, recalled what he had seen, was immeasurable. It wasn’t kind to wish ill upon the dead but he did and didn’t feel bad about it. Didn’t feel much at all as he wrapped a towel around his hand and opened the back door. The home looked like a home. The idealized kind. The kind that movies and television showed. The furrowed skin between his brows smoothed and he began to break. Quiet as he could but just as harsh.

“No - I can - I can drive.” If she was going to go to Ariana’s house, the very last thing she wanted was to bring another hunter there. As much as he was willing to help Athena and Orion, she didn’t know what kind of hunter he was nor anything else, and she didn’t wish to further compromise him by having him be seen with her outside of the home. “Thank you, though.” She added. It was critical to be polite to those in a position of authority. Her gaze found her parents’ bodies again and she seized up, coughing for a moment before she could refocus. That’s not respectful, a voice in the back of her head, one she didn’t recognize, told her. That’s a scandal. They only cared for you. “They wanted to murder my brother.” She spoke in response, her hand finding her mouth as she did so. That wasn’t supposed to have been spoken aloud.

“Okay.” She pressed her thighs together, the pressure reassuring in its own way. Watched the golf clubs come in, watched the other man pick one up, hand wrapped in a towel. No fingerprints, then. She felt herself jump as the sound of glass permeated the too-quiet air. Athena looked up at her brother, staring at him in much the similar way that she had when they’d been children. “He - how do you know him?”

Orion glanced at Athena when she spoke aloud, seemingly to herself. Everything about her demeanor was making him incredibly nervous. For anyone else, this was a totally normal reaction for someone whose parents had just died. This was the sort of shock and retreat that Rio expected himself to feel if he had ever been forced to take a life. It was how he felt when he had killed that troll. Was something wrong with him that a troll elicited a greater reaction from Rio than two human lives? But Rio knew what Athena was experiencing. That voice inside of her head feeding her self doubt. How did Rio try to fix that? He owed it to her after all, didn’t he? She was in this mess because of him. Or maybe it was the opposite. Maybe she owed him now. Not that it mattered.

Even though Rio knew it was coming, he still jumped when he heard glass breaking. He breathed a heavy sigh, gently placing his hand on Athena’s shoulder to offer the only amount of comfort he knew how to give. “He saved me once. From a vampire. Since then we stayed in contact.” Nic meant way more than Rio could ever find the words to explain, especially to Athena. How did he explain to her that he had filled the role of a parental figure Rio had so desperately needed to his sister, who had spent her entire life idolizing two people they had just killed? “He’s a really, really good guy. He’s always there for me if I need him. And he’s here to help us.” Rio removed his hand, opting instead to grip tightly onto the gold club with both hands. He moved slowly towards the living room area and shrugged towards Athena, “Here goes nothing I guess.” Then he swung at their television, shattering the screen. But he was far from finished.

He nodded in understanding at Athena. The older hunter didn’t know what reassurances he could offer. Through words, at least. Those troublesome things Nicodemus had always been shit at. So he stuck to what he knew. Silence and breaking. Shattering. The art of leaving nothing behind when the next step was taken. It was the most he could offer the twins, other than his presence. Between it all, he couldn’t help but hear Rio. A good man. He had heard that before. Recently, even. He supposed good men helped cover up murders from time to time. Maybe that was how it worked. The concept of right and wrong was skewed, easily swayed. He went on breaking out the windows that led to the backyard. Broke them inward so the glass spewed out onto the floor. He climbed in and stepped over the pieces carefully. Looked over his handiwork and frowned. With heavy steps, he came to stand by Rio. Glanced over toward Athena.

“You’re...good too,” he said slowly. He took in a heavy breath. He glanced at the bodies again. They were likely starting to go cold. “Even with…” Nicodemus trailed. Shook his head. “You just are. Nobody gets to tell you otherwise. No one can take it away from you.” Their parents had tried to, he reckoned. Wanted them to be something righteous in the way that blood was shed. He frowned. Righteousness didn’t have a place in what they did or what they were. They just were. The way others just were.

She couldn’t help herself - each time she could hear the golf clubs collide with the glass she felt like jumping. She did her very best to avoid that, but the sound reverberated in her ears. This will help, this will turn suspicion away from us - she reminded herself, the mantra hardly reassuring. The sooner Athena got out of all of this, the better. At least Rio had known someone to call. Her mind flashed briefly to Oscar and she felt like she was going to be sick all over again. “He’s here to help.” She repeated. She was going to have to lie to Oscar, because this would be all over the news in no time. She admired him, but what would he think if he knew what she’d just done? He doesn’t know what my parents did to me and my brother, Athena reassured herself. Everything will be okay.

She finally pushed herself up and off the ground, making her way over to the cabinets. Grabbed one of her favorite childhood mugs. Grabbed one of Orion’s, too - ones that they’d used for hot chocolate around holiday times. She threw each of them against the tiled floor, the shattering of china more satisfying that she would have readily liked to admit. Athena, for good measure, grabbed a few other plates and bowls, letting them fall over. “Collateral damage,” she murmured, “just for good measure.”

Breaking things came easily to Orion. Unsurprisingly, it turned out Rio had a lent of pent up anger to take out against the house that he had been raised in. Smashing things came way too easily to him, shattering the glass tv stand and the pictures and plants they had within the living room. It was completely destroyed within minutes, the shattering sounds from the kitchen proving that Athena had been able to help. They would have to do this to everything. They couldn’t leave their rooms untouched, or the basement. It would be a methodical process, but an important one.

When Nic came back in, trying to remind Orion that he was a good person, Rio could only nod. He didn’t feel like a good person, though he rarely did. “Thank you. Seriously, I don’t know how I could possibly repay you. Even if you won’t let me.” Rio smiled at him, a genuine one even if the mood didn’t exactly call for one. “I think we should move my dad’s body to the basement. If people think it’s a revenge plot then it may make sense for him to be down there. I don’t know this isn’t my forte, clearly.” Rio sighed. “Whatever we do. We need to get out of here sooner rather than later. Just to be safe.”

It was surreal watching Orion and Athena take to their childhood home like small storms. How often had Nicodemus thought of doing just the same damn thing? Of ripping through stone and crosses and molded wood like something unrestrained? Every day, he reckoned, if the wind went by just right and the sun was where it should be. One day. Maybe. His own storm might come calling home. The smile he returned to Rio was small. Tired. “Ain’t gotta worry about that right now. I’ll help you get ‘im down there,” he said quietly. “And then we better get. Ain’t tryin’ to rush but…” He glanced down at the bodies before he started to lift up the father. “Been here long enough and y’all ought to get somewhere safe.”

“You - I…” she felt her voice break as Athena heard them discuss moving the bodies. She really was going to be sick. She could count the tiles on the floor. She could feel her rings against her fingers. She avoided thinking about the smell. That wasn’t going to help anyone out. Her gaze found the Christmas photo on the fridge again and she felt a shudder crawl through her whole body. “We need to get somewhere soon. I need to - I have to pack a bag before I go. Not too much. We can’t - people are going to ask questions. We -” She bit her lip, pleading with herself to actually form coherent thoughts. God, what was she going to tell Ariana? She had to tell her the full truth, even though she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to explain any of this. “You - just don’t - be careful with the blood. If too much tracks people can tell that you moved a body.” She could hear her father repeating some of the same words, back when they’d trapped a fae together, the satisfaction and eagerness she had with the knife too much. Be careful, Athena, acting rashly may satisfy in the moment but will only serve those we seek to eradicate in the long run. “The police will search for that. So just - be careful, please?”

Orion nodded at Nic. He was right. The neighbors wouldn’t be awake for a few hours, but they were nosey. If they got up to get a glass of water or go to the bathroom they’d notice the lights on and remember it when the police started showing up. These people gossiped like crazy. Moving to help Nic, Rio heard Athena talk and paused. “Yeah- Good point. You’re right.” He moved towards her and lowered his voice. Not because he didn’t think Nic would be able to hear, clearly he could. But because Athena didn’t look like she could handle any higher volume, “Hey. You should go. Seriously. Nic and I just have a couple more things to do and then we are going to get out of here. Ariana lives farther away than I do. It’s going to take you some time to get there. Okay? We’ll talk later.” That wasn’t a promise so much as it was an unfortunate fact. The two would be called in and questioned by the police once the bodies were discovered. Rio and Athena would be seeing more of each other sooner rather than later. Giving a small wave and nod, Rio turned away from his sister and back to help grab onto his father’s body, already hoisted up by Nic. He avoided looking at his father’s body by studying Nic’s expression. Rio could never repay this man, but he hoped that Nic would still be able to see Rio the same. “Okay uh- let’s wrap up here so we can get out of here.”

[corpse--diem]

Exit Interview | Rio & Erin

TIMING: A few days after the fire  PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @corpse–diem SUMMARY: In front of what’s left of the funeral home, Erin struggles to clear up Rio’s questions in an impromptu employee meeting.

Orion still felt shaky on his feet. He hadn’t meant to leave the hospital in such a hurry. If his stupid dad hadn’t shown up, he could have gotten a full nights rest. Instead, as the sun slowly started to peak over the horizon and Rio still hadn’t gone home after blowing off his father and any nurses from trying to stop him. He had slowly brushed past them as if they hadn’t been standing there in the first place, out into the night air. He had been wandering ever since, a numbness lingering with him that kept him from paying attention to where he had been going. But eventually it had been obvious. He had taken the same path a hundred times on his way to work. The remains of the funeral home finally came into view, and Rio paused his steps for a moment to get a look at the place. It hadn’t burned down completely. The structure itself still stood despite bad damage to it. But more shocking than the funeral home was the person standing outside of it. “Erin?” Rio questioned, quiet enough that only he could hear until he had been sure that it was her on the yard outside of it. “Erin,” Rio repeated. He picked up into a jog at first, but immediately stopped when his legs groaned in protest. Clearly he hadn’t been completely healed. He attempted to stuff the hospital gown away that he had walked out of the hospital with. He had tried hiding it with the pants and hoodie he had hastily put on, but the edges of the gown still poked out. “You’re not in the hospital anymore? Are you okay?” Rio finally asked when he got close enough to her.

The funeral home wasn’t the first place Erin had gone after she’d gone to the hospital. Every time she thought about unfurling from the safe space Nic’s bed had become, she slouched harder into the sheets. But she’d made it here, eventually. Insisted on going alone to process this on her own. It was surreal standing here, charred wood and yellow caution tape filling her every sense. Even now, too, the smoke was enough to water her eyes. “Fuck me,” she grumbled, a growing dread of the work that would need to be done hanging over her like a rain cloud, heavy and dark. They could rebuild. If she made it out of this, they would rebuild. It could be… worse? A voice pulled her from her thoughts, a familiar one she hadn’t expected to hear so soon. “Rio?” She turned quickly, concern lighting up her eyes. “Yeah. Fine. I’m fi--” she started, shook her head. Her arm wasn’t fine and it felt like she’d smoked twenty cartons of cigarettes though that hardly seemed to matter right now. She took a step towards him, the unmistakable blue “Are you? Did you--did you just get out?”

She didn’t look happy to be there, but obviously Orion had a pretty good guess why. The funeral home had been important to Erin, that hadn’t been hard to see. Not only had she lost her business, but her home. And then on top of that, knowing that Roland had died here. Was he still here? Rio knew that the body would have been recovered, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how Blanche had seen his ghost. The thought made Rio pale even further than he already was. But still, despite all the pain and loss, Rio was still concerned about how Erin was processing everything. “I guess that was a dumb question. Of course you’re not fine.” Rio sighed, cursing himself for not being better with words. He barely knew how to console himself, how could he possibly begin to try to make others feel better? “I uh- yeah. Let me out early.” Or something. There was enough going on right now. If Rio told Erin about how he had left because his dad made Rio terrified for his life, that’d only add to the stress that Erin was going through. “I was going to head home to sleep but I… I don’t know I guess I just wanted to stop by here. Try to make sense of it all.” Rio squated, ignoring the way that his leg muscles protested the action. He stared at the rubble. Just days before, the place had been whole. And now it seemed almost desolate. He hadn’t expected to run into Erin here, but now that he had all he could think about was the door. The way that it had been locked, barricaded even. The events were still fuzzy in Rio’s mind, but not enough to completely forget them. “It wasn’t an accident, was it?” He knew the answer before asking, but that didn’t mean he didn’t dread it. He hadn’t even wanted to ask it. But with running into Erin now it seemed like the best chance. Maybe the only one.

“It’s not dumb,” Erin shook her head, giving him a half-hearted smile to show she appreciated the concern. She was more worried for Rio at this point. Her time at the hospital had been relatively short and she hadn’t had the time or energy to check in on him as much as she should have, and she knew that. Felt it now too as she watched him, no doubt reliving the horror behind his eyes. She froze at his last question. It was something she should have expected coming, and she knew it was, but when finally faced with it--and the look on his face when he asked it--utter shame warmed her cheeks, reddening her features to the point where she had to look away. “You should probably sit,” she gestured towards the grass, a little ways away from the house. It really wasn’t safe to be as close as they were, for Rio especially. She kept her eyes on the grass as she stuck her hands into her back pockets. Rio had endured enough from all of this to earn some honesty from her. “And uh--no. It wasn’t. Someone did this to me on purpose,” she grimaced, glancing back up at the house, then to the grass again, trying not to picture Roy’s stupid fucking grin flashing behind a cloud of cigar smoke for the millionth time. “It’s a long story, and maybe one day I’ll be able to tell you the whole thing but please know--I never, ever intended for you to get caught up in this.”

Being instructed to sit was never a good sign. It almost certainly meant bad news was coming. He should have expected it obviously, considering this all started with their place of work burning down and all. More than that, this place was more than just a place of work to Erin. It was her home, her career. The thought gave Rio goosebumps, and he tried ignoring them as he found a spot on the ground. Readjusting to fix the hospital gown that bunched up around the waistline of his pants, Rio used it as a distraction to try to hide how uncomfortable he was. He couldn’t seem to pick between glancing over at Erin or staring at the remains of the home. Neither seemed right. Erin confirmed what seemed obvious, that someone had done this on purpose. Rio nodded silently, trying to process how anybody could do something like this to a person. “Yeah, of course. I never would have thought you were trying to.” Rio waved that thought away. Erin had but nothing but generous to Rio. Aside from their initial meeting going less than smoothly, Erin had taken a chance with Rio and had always stayed patient through training and made sure he could handle the job despite Rio having never worked a day in his life before this. “I don’t understand. Why would anyone do something like this to you? To a funeral home.” That in itself seemed pretty disrespectful. “You don’t owe me the story or anything, I'm not trying to pry you for information. I just… We could have died in there. That person tried to kill us. Does that mean they’re going to try to hurt you again?”

The cool grass underneath her felt good when Erin settled down across from him. Truth be told, she was too tired and achy to be doing too much anyway. She’d come to assess some of the damage, maybe try to pick out some of her things that had made it out unscathed, but it all felt daunting and exhausting the longer she looked at the remains. “Probably,” she answered nonchalantly, nodding at his question. Roy wasn’t done with her yet. This little period between was likely just a breather--he probably thought he’d won, or squashed her enough that she wouldn’t fight back, but in no way was this over. She pulled her knees up against her chest, watching him for a moment. “Neither of us should probably even be here right now, if I’m being honest.” Paranoia, for sure, but she had good reason to be. “This wasn’t about the funeral home. I mean, it was, kind of--but my dad got my family involved with some bad people before he died. Then I went and pissed them off. As you can see,” she gestured towards the building with a humorless laugh. It took a moment but she met his gaze again, despite the slight twinge of guilt that came with it.

Orion crossed his arms. He was angry. Angry that this person wanted to hurt Erin and was willing to kill people to do it. Angry that Erin’s entire life had been in that fire. Angry that he hadn’t been able to do anything about it. More than that though, Rio was terrified. Because as much as he wanted to help, he knew he had nothing to offer. Back in that fire he had just barely gotten that door open. If he had been quicker, maybe none of them would have ended up in the hospital. That police officer may still be alive. If Rio had just been smarter with his abilities, he may have heard the door being barricaded and stopped the fire from ever starting. Instead he had been completely useless. “Oh.” Rio stated, unsure what else to say. He had no idea what bad people implied or how that carried over to Erin, but he was pretty sure that she was staying intentionally vague. “That oh sounded bad. Sorry. I’m not like judging or anything.” Rio hardly had any room to judge. His life revolved around being complicit in illegal acts. Whether that was keeping his psycho family life from the authorities or keeping his best and friend the person he was dating’s murder sacrifice to himself, Rio clearly was in no place to question someone else’s decisions. “But this is dangerous stuff. I don’t want you to get hurt. Nic knows about this right?” The one confidence that Rio had was that Nic was there to look after her. Erin didn’t seem like the type that needed much protection, but when she did it was good to know a trained hunter had her back.

Rio was quiet for a long time and it unsettled Erin more than she expected it to. Sitting here trying to explain, even vaguely, why he’d endured such a horrific trauma--and that it was in no uncertain terms her fault--burned a righteous new shade of shame right through her. “I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” she shrugged. “It’s a lot of… well, it’s just a lot.” It was more than she could wrap her head around some days. “He knows, but I can take care of myself. I know it looks pretty bad, and right now it’s the worst it’s been, but I’ve got a good group of people helping me with this. People who want to take him down just as much as I do. He’s hurt a lot of people.” She bit her lip. Roland. Rio. Blanche. Jane. Marley. Nell. Bea. Her own mother. And those were the names she could spout off at the top of her head. Didn’t even include the countless others from Pat’s or the damage he’d accumulated over the years. “We’ll get him. He’s got a lot to pay for,” she promised. Her vision fell to the blackened building next to them again, narrowing slightly when bits and pieces started falling back into place from the other night. “Can I ask you something?” She asked, turning sharply back to Rio, a hint of suspicion already in her voice. “Not so much of an ask, actually, but I couldn’t help notice the way you demolished that hardwood door. With your bare fists.”

Orion was sure that Erin could protect herself. Better than Rio was able to protect himself probably. And he even had super strength backing him up. But despite the fire and the serious threat, Erin seemed surprisingly calm. Rio wondered how she did it. Rio barely knew the situation and he was terrified. Looking at the charred building in front of them scared him. How did she keep her cool as the target in all of this when Rio was just barely holding himself together. “It’s hard to feel better knowing that he’s hurt a lot of people.” Rio admitted. The more people involved in taking him down was good, he supposed. But if he had so many victims, how much power did this man have? “Let me help too. I- I don’t know what I can offer. But I can’t just do nothing. Not knowing what he did.” Rio didn’t even know what he could offer to Erin, but he had to try. He had been guilty of doing nothing for far too long. He needed to start actively trying to make the changes he claimed to believe in so passionately. “Oh. That.” Rio itched at his neck, forgetting about the giant burn on it and wincing at the sudden pain. He had hoped that the chaos of the fire would brush past that moment and Erin would forget about it completely. Did she knew about hunters? Did she know about Nic? “I guess you wouldn’t believe it if I told you it was just adrenaline, huh? You know people that like lift cars to get their babies and stuff?”

“No.” The word jumped from Erin’s lips, stern, sure. Zero hesitation. Even with the inkling that there was something more to Rio’s abilities than he had let on, this wasn’t an environment he needed to be in. The proof was right beside them in all of its smoky glory. “Not all of us made it out of that building, Rio. It was a close call for those who did. Too close,” she reiterated. Obviously he knew. Obviously he was dealing with that on his own, but it bore repeating now. Blanche and Rio’s smoky, terrified faces. The desperation in Rio’s grip as he hugged her, apologizing to her as if he’d lit the flames himself. The crack of the floor as it gave way beneath Roland. None of them would ever forget any of it. “I get why you want to help but I can’t--” she cleared her throat, shaking those horrifying memories burning behind her eyes. “I can’t let you be near that. I never should have risked you being in that house to begin with everything going on. It was stupid and irresponsible and I am so sorry.” An apology didn’t feel like enough, would never be enough. Not to her. Not for this level of trauma--the kind that stuck with you, years after it happened, if it ever left at all. Still, it was all she could do for them outside of making good on her word, making this all right. “I’ll take care of it. You just take care of yourself, okay? You and Blanche both. That’s all I need you to do.” She couldn’t help but wince when he did. Another solid reminder that they were better off away from this and from her. “Probably not,” she said, shaking her head. Watched how uncomfortable he suddenly seemed and she felt guilty for prying. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. But you might be surprised at the kind of things I’d believe if you did.”

Unsurprisingly, Erin was quick to shut Orion down. It didn’t come as a shock. He didn’t come across as the most reliable. He was clumsy, easily frightened and didn’t typically handle violence very well, just to name a few. That didn’t stop him from crossing his arms in defiance and chewing on his cheek while pouting. “I’m already near it though, right? I mean this person… whoever it was, tried to kill me.” Yet for some reason, Erin blamed herself for that. “You don’t have to be sorry. They did this. Not you. Whatever your issues are with them- that doesn’t excuse trying to kill someone. That was their choice.” And they sounded like an awful person. “Yeah, didn’t figure you’d believe that.” Rio sighed, knowing that Erin wouldn’t ask anymore if Rio refused to give an answer. But what was the point in that? Rio was tired of all the secrecy. “I have uh- certain attributes. Like special abilities or something. Not to sound too comic book hero. Enhanced strength is one of those.”

“That’s exactly my point, Rio. You haven’t done anything wrong and you almost died just because you were here, in this house, when he decided to show up. Imagine if you were actually on his radar? What if he came after you, or Blanche. For real this time?” Roy didn’t give shits about who or what burned down, that was painfully clear. Age was irrelevant. Rio and Blanche were circumstantial victims. Collateral damage. “The people who get pulled into this get hurt. They die. That’s a fact. I can’t be everywhere at once, I can’t protect--” Erin stopped short. The pouting only emphasized his age right now but if the fire had proven anything, Rio had shown he was capable of more than she ever realized. “I just meant that I can’t have something else happening to you over my head. That’s still a line I won’t cross.” It was a selfish demand, she knew that. One that was wrecking the relationship she’d built with Blanche when she’d told her to stay away. It wasn’t something she’d back down on either way. This wasn’t their battle and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one that could take them down. Rio seemed to be taking it better than Blanche, anyway.

The smallest amount of relief came with Rio’s insistence that it wasn’t her fault eased a bit of the ache in her chest. Not by much, and it didn’t change her mind, but it helped to know she hadn’t lost a third person to that fire. Her eyes narrowed suddenly. Enhanced strength? Special abilities? Sounded eerily familiar. Erin still had a ways to go but she did know a few people, once that also had beating hearts, who were strong enough to punch a hole through a solid wooden door. “Like… a hunter?”

How could Orion even dispute what she was saying? Was he supposed to claim that he could protect himself? That if this mystery man came knocking things would be different than they had been in that fire? These powers of his were just as useless as he felt. Super strength meant nothing when he could barely find the resolve to knock down a door. Rio was supposed to be enhanced and wasn’t convinced that he could withstand a strong wind. Mentally or physically. “But if you’re constantly worried about protecting others then who is going to look after you?” Rio wished that he could be that person. Maybe just once, Rio would welcome a fight if it meant keeping Erin and Blanche and others safe. But even if he was willing to, would he even stand a chance against someone who willingly burnt down a funeral home with people trapped inside.

Erin was familiar with hunters, which didn’t surprise Rio. She was dating one after all. “You’re uh… familiar with them I see.” It was safe to assume that Erin knew about Nic then, right? Rio figured he shouldn’t say anything just in case. “But yeah. Sort of.” He didn’t like leaving it at that. Hated agreeing with anyone that associated him with that word. Eventually, it bothered him too much and he had to say something, “Um. I don’t though. Hunt, I mean. Just so you know. I never wanted this. I just wanted to be a normal kid.”

A sort of sad smile crossed Erin’s face at Rio’s question. She didn’t put a lot of weight or faith into what ‘good’ or ‘bad’ meant anymore but if she were to put Rio in either slot, the choice felt obvious. He was a kind, smart kid with a big heart who just wanted to help. Outside of needing immediate help, it was one of the biggest reasons she hired him on with almost zero experience. Working beside him all of these months only proved her hunch right. “I’ve got people,” she assured him. “Very capable people. It’s why I’m so sure we’re going to get him. For you, for Blanche, for Roland. For everyone he’s hurt.” Whatever it took.

Erin understood, could even relate in a way - being thrust into a world you didn’t want to be a part of but didn’t have a choice. It was a relief knowing he didn’t act on those inherent abilities of his thought. The closer she grew to the kind of folks on the hunted end of the spectrum, the more her opinions on hunters soured. And if Nic knew Rio, their association at least made a little more sense now. “Even more of a reason to keep you out of this,” she said. As much as she could from here on out, anyway. “Good for you though. Seriously. You’ve got to do what feels right to you, even if it’s not the popular or obvious option.” It was hard to picture him, knife in hand, even if he wasn’t an active hunter. Just didn’t make sense. Her eyes were drawn to the funeral home again, biting down on her bottom lip as she hesitated for just a moment, turning back to face him once more. “And just so you know--if it wasn’t obvious already,” She started, a slight grimace mixing with the playful smirk on her lips. “You’re fired.”

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Friendship Never Ends || Ariana & Orion

TIMING: Yesterday evening PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ariana finds out Rio was in a fire when she messages him to talk things over. She brings dinner to the hospital and they have a heart to heart. 

Ariana reread the message several times and her heart sank further with each one. She felt dissociated from her own body as she threw on a coat and hopped in her truck so she could rush to the hospital. She was worried for both Rio and Blanche, but the guilt she felt over staying with Rio for so long formed a lump in her throat that she couldn’t quite shove down. How could she have been so selfish? Didn’t Rio deserve the understanding he always seemed so willing to give other people? She pushed back the tears as she talked to the secretary and made her way to his room as quickly as she possibly could. As she walked in the room, she felt sick. The burns on his neck made her breath catch and she forgot for a moment to let it go. “Rio,” she croaked out as she hurried to take a seat by his bedside. “I’m so sorry. I should have-- I’m just glad you’re going to be okay. Oh god, you are going to be okay, right?” 

The only thing that Orion had worried about since getting here was how he was going to leave. He couldn’t stay here for too long. The hospital was not a safe place for him. His wounds would heal too quickly, the rest of his scars would be too visible, and worst of all his dad was roaming the halls somewhere. It was only a matter of time before the news got around that his son was here. At least the nurses had mostly believed that the various wounds along his arms were caused from the fire. Now, he had them hidden under the blankets, unable to hide behind his hoodie with the needles and tubes protruding from his arms. Ariana was the first to show up. She must have seen the text message as soon as Rio had sent it, and left immediately after. “Hey!” He tried to sound as excited as he could manage, but his voice was still dry and hoarse from the smoke. “Why would you be sorry?” His expression turned from excitement into confusion. This fire hadn’t had anything to do with her. Rio honestly didn’t know anything about the fire. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Uh-” Considering the animosity between the two, now might not have been the best time to bring it up, but Rio tried for a smile and shrugged, “Perks of hunter healing I guess. But- Not everyone was that lucky.” Rio couldn’t stop thinking about the officer, he had heard the name Roland multiple times. He had saved their lives, and lost his in the process. Rio couldn’t get the image out of his head. “Blanche and my boss, Erin, are going to have it worse than me. It’s not fair.”

Hiding her emotions had never been her strong suit, but for Rio’s sake, Ariana did her best to refrain from frowning when she heard just how battered his voice sounded. As she looked him over, it became so apparent how close she could have been to losing him. That he could have been gone forever before they had ever gotten the chance to talk things over and make up. She’d been so harsh with him and that very well could have been their last conversation. The realization sat heavy in her chest as she nodded slowly. He didn’t seem to understand why she was sorry, and she tried to explain, “Rio, you could have-- Without us ever.” She looked down at her hands that were now clasped firmly in her lap. The tension in her shoulders was able to relax a little when he assured he’d be okay. She still worried for Blanche though the fact Erin was involved in this left her feeling suspicious. That wasn’t what was important right now. She looked over to Rio earnestly and softly answered, “I could have lost you without ever getting to make up. I could have lost you while you still thought I was upset with you. I just-- I’m really glad you’re going to be okay. You’re my friend and I care about you, even when I was mad and I promise I’ll try to be a little more patient going forward, okay?” Hunter healing was a bonus in this case and if anyone deserved to have that ability, it was Rio. She wished he could have met Celeste, but shook the thought away quickly. “Blanche is going to be okay, too, though, right?” She couldn’t feign concern for Erin, especially not when she had the hunch her shady business had something to do with this. 

Even in pain, Orion was just incredibly happy that Ariana wanted to talk. Rio could never blame Ariana’s anger. It had felt like a double edged sword, most of the time. With his friends, he either withheld the truth knowing that he was lying to them about who he was or he told the truth and risked them hating him. It didn’t feel like a battle he could win. How could he even blame them? He didn’t like or trust hunters when he was one himself, so how could he ever expect a werewolf or selkie or any other supernatural creature to? So he kept the truth to himself. Rio sat up in the bed, careful to try to keep the blanket covering his body. It shouldn’t be too hard to pass some of the injuries off on the fire, but he didn’t want to cause Ariana anymore worry. She hadn’t had an easy few months, and this was just one more layer of stress. “Hey I don’t-” Rio paused. Who knew all it took was almost dying for things to start to get better? But that’s not what Rio wanted this to be. He needed Ariana to be as angry as she needed to be. “You had every right to be mad. And I don’t want you to have to forgive me just because of… this. I’m going to be okay.” They still had plenty of time to make up. As much as Rio wanted to be friends again, he didn’t want to rush her into anything. “I care about you too. A lot. But you don’t have to promise anything. You never did anything wrong.” Thinking about Blanche made Rio’s heart hurt. In that funeral home, when the two were so sure that they were about to die, Blanhe’s words had really gotten to him. It was what got him back on his feet again. She had to be okay. “I think so. She had it the worst of us three I think, but I’m getting updates. She seems stable.”

Even if she had still been truly mad about everything, how kind he was being would make it hard to stay that way. Ariana shook her head and assured, “No, this isn’t because of that-- I wanted to see you before anyway, remember? This just-- It kind of puts things in perspective you know.” Any day, especially in White Crest, something bad could happen. The reminder just made her want to keep those she loved as close to her as possible. “I’d already forgiven you and moved on, it’s just-- You and Blanche, you both could have died in there and I’d feel terrible if we never got to talk first.” At the confirmation that Blanche was going to be alright she relaxed a little bit. She let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding and leaned back in the cold hospital chair. “I’m really glad both of you are going to be okay.” There was relief, but she knew she needed to get this off her chest. She let out a sigh and looked at Rio, “I know you didn’t not tell me with the intention of hurting my feelings. Knowing you-- I get why you wouldn’t want to tell people. Finding out from Athena just really sucked. But I do want you to know you can tell me these things. I’m never going to think less of you or anything like that. I know you’re a good person and if I’m being honest, I’ve really missed you.” 

“Right. We already had plans, of course.” Orion had to remind himself that people truly thought that he was worth friendship. As much as he tried to think about that, he always had that voice in the back of his head reminding him that he wasn’t. Or pointing out that people only hung out with him because of pity. The voice sucked, but had been such a loud, consistent noise ringing in his head that it was hard to ignore. Even when logically, Rio knew it wasn’t true. “Me too. I’m so glad that she’s okay.” And Rio was glad that he was alive too. He didn’t want to die. Not anymore. “I know, and I really am sorry. With everyone else knowing it’s-“ Rio sighed, “I should have told you.” That was the truth. Even if everyone else had mostly found out by accident or by necessity, the fact was that everyone else in their friend group knew the truth. It was like a secret that everyone but Ariana was in on. It hadn’t been intentional, but Rio understood why it still hurt. “I just want you to know that it was never you. I never worried you’d tell people or that I couldn’t trust you with it. I trust you with my life, the same way I trust Winston and Blanche and Layla and our other friends.” Diving deep into the truth was hard, and Rio wasn’t sure he quite knew all the reasons behind his various problems. But a little honesty and exposure couldn’t hurt. “It’s that I’m ashamed of it. I’ve always hated myself for being linked to them. I’m stuck with these abilities that are objectively amazing. It makes it hard to complain about and yet I’d do anything to get rid of them. To stop feeling like I’m some sort of monster. So I never liked telling people because I didn’t want them to think the same things I thought about myself.” Rio sighed, a sense of relief washing over after he was done. Speaking it out loud felt good, but he didn’t want the message to get washed away by pity or Ariana feeling like Rio was trying to beg her for sympathy. “But I’m not telling you that begging for sympathy or asking you to forgive and forget the pain. I just want to be honest with you now. It’s the least I can do after keeping you in the dark. Because I miss you too.”

“Yeah,” Ariana whispered softly and took a few moments to just listen to Rio. To try and understand why he had kept what he was from her though the more he spoke, the more she frowned. There was a distinct difference in how they viewed what they were. Ariana was proud of being a wolf. She didn’t view it as something that made her bad even though it made her more of a threat to those who would dare to hurt her or those she cared about. The way he saw himself was entirely different and broke Ariana’s heart. She couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes as he explained how he hated himself. How ashamed he was with the abilities he was born with. Part of her wanted to reach out and hug him, but she wasn’t sure if it’d make him feel better or worse. She looked at him with misty eyes and softly responded, “Rio, you aren’t-- You’re so good. You don’t have a bad bone in your body. It’s not about what you’re born, it’s about what you do with it and you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know.” She leaned forward in her seat a bit and added, “You were born with hunter abilities, but you don’t use them to hunt others. You’re like Celeste in that way and she’s literally the greatest person I’ve ever known.” She wished they could have met. Maybe Celeste would have been able to help him come to terms with everything. “I know changing the way you see yourself can’t be easy, but I’m here to help however I can and remind you that you’re one of the best people I know… and you know, I know some pretty amazing people,” she added the last part with a light laugh at the end. “I appreciate you being honest with me. Understanding, well, it kind of makes it easier to know that it wasn’t me.” 

“Oh no. You can’t cry!” Orion wanted to laugh, because Ariana was one of the funniest, happiest people he knew and he missed being able to laugh with her. When he did try to laugh, it came out raspy and strained. “If you cry I’m going to cry too.” Rio wanted to keep things lighthearted. There was enough to be freaked out about right now. The least he could do was try to make things a little less stressful on Ariana. But even though he said it, Rio’s eyes were already swelling up. “I wish I could have met her. She was taken from you too soon.” Rio was so lucky to have friends like Ariana and the others that knew about Rio’s self doubts and tried to help him. They had no way of truly knowing how much it had changed his life. “Thank you. For everything, seriously. For everything you’ve done since we’ve been friends. And for visiting me. And mostly for bringing me food.” Because Rio had been starving since he got here. It seemed stupid now, but he just remembered that he had never been able to finish his wrap. “I’m just really glad we get to hang out again.”

“It’s not my birthday, but I’ll still cry if I want to,” Ariana joked with a misty-eyed laugh in hopes it would lift both of their spirits a bit. Rio had always been spazzy and a little insecure, but she hated to think he couldn’t see what she saw. Whenever she looked to Rio, she saw kindness and warmth. She saw someone who was way smarter than her, but would never dream of making her feel like she was anything but capable. She saw a person, who like Celeste, was able to look past what their parents tried to teach them and decided what was right for themselves. It took an incredible amount of strength and courage. Yet he still hated himself for something that was out of his control. They were both crying a bit now, but she felt inclined to add, “Just do me a favor, try and remember that things that are out of our control aren’t who we are. It’s what we choose to do with those things. You choose to be kind and open minded and I think that makes you one of the best people I know.” She nodded and simply agreed about Celeste, “She was.” At the mention of food, she opened her backpack and pulled out a big thermos full of chili. She’d have to drop these clothes by Blanche’s room soon, too. She grabbed the tray by his bed and poured some in the bowl part of the lid. She pulled a sleeve of crackers out to go with it. “I conveniently had some chilli going in the slow cooker today. I’ve always thought it’s a good comfort food. I know it’s for sure better than anything here, but I did also bring Oreos.” She smiled at him and felt relieved to finally understand why he hadn’t felt comfortable telling her. “Me too, Rio, me too.”

[flyswhumpcenter]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. Green deltas are for requested prompts.)

It's fine if I'm used to it.

Confession: I love Ichihoshi. I'm the first to point out flaws in Inazuma and, well, Orion is clearly not exempt from that. I know Ichihoshi's redemption arc isn't the best, that it has wasted potential (especially with Mitsuru being heckin' ded), I know. And even then? I'd protecc Hikaru. He falls into almost all of my favorite character credentials: hardworking, good-meaning, pretty intelligent, cool motif, (most likely has whump stuff attached to them in canon...). Oops. About this oneshot, it's abstract on purpose because, well, you've most likely read the tags. It's almost a cryptic character study because, man, I want to write more about this stardust boy. Most likely won't be this abstract next time. It's also much softer than the previous one because I felt softer and sweeter this time, enjoy the calm before the storm, before the storm before the calm. I've taken a lot of liberties with the actual nightmares Ichihoshi is shown to have in the anime, but hey, fanfiction is also for that, right?

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Wishing Upon a Shooting Star in the Twilight Sky

Summary: Hikaru, the eyes who slither in the dark, and an ever-changing corridor. Nothing out of the ordinary. (or: yet another feverish nightmare in the mind of a boy who used not to have people to rely on)

Fandom: Inazuma Eleven: Orion no Kokuin (spoilers for up to episodes 13-16) Relationship: Ichihoshi & Inazuma Japan

Wordcount: 2K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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A pair of eyes welcomes him as soon as his lids open, shining in the dark, viciously staring at him wit the intensity of a thousand stares. He remembers the story of the poisons of poisons and wonders if those aren’t the eyes of the eyes, those who can see through walls and peek behind the curtains of the mind, those who ignore the skull entirely.

He’s too used to them to be scared of them anymore, so he gets up and running for the day, dressing up as the red irises still dissect his anatomy from where they stand, shrouded in the darkness of the corners of the bedroom.

 It always feels cold, his skin shivering, hair dressed on his arms and legs before he puts on a jacket and decide to ignore the chills. The eyes don’t leave their prey, the shine of a fang piercing through the shadows like a claw tearing through a curtain, but that’s to be expected. There’s still a hinge of fear in the back of his mind, the non-null risk that he could get eaten alive, but he shouldn’t let that phase him. He’s not a prey worth the effort anyway.

He exits the unfamiliar room, ready for the day, leaving the creature in the shadows as the day finally shines upon this country again, sunlight bathing the corridors through the windows. It’s soothing, somewhat.

 The faces around him ignore his presence entirely. Far away, his brother, his beloved older brother, glaring at him, surrounded by people whose language he suddenly doesn’t understand anymore, whose alphabet reads like drawings on old stone walls. He’s lost and getting scared, the place changing constantly, and he’ll never get used to how the colours and noises keep transforming each time he tries to focus on one sound or object.

His forehead hurts from how many things his brain analyses at once, trying to give sense to the nonsensical maze of sensations swirling around him. He feels smothered, wrapped by a snake that doesn’t exist, head like a nebula who cannot settle for one star and instead decides to confuse him even further. He’s in the eye of a tornado, watching its curves surrounding him with nothing but confusion and a headache.

 He manages to peek through the wind curtains, handing his hand outside as to try and catch his brother’s attention, yelling but never hearing his own voice doing so. His brother’s name is missing from his boggled memories, those trying to claw at his wounded throat during this moment of vulnerability, so he calls out in vague manners, words running away from his mind. And yet, despite the dread, despite the panic and despite the horror, it feels like a déjà vu.

He’s been here before, he realizes, as he notices the patterns the walls’ changing forms adopt. They switch in cycles, colours succeeding each other in disharmony, unsynchronized among themselves to create a nauseating vertigo, whose dazzling lights blinded his eyes used to the darkness, rendering him dizzy. And, even then, he can still notice the cycles and how they function, using what’s left available of his brain to clear his way out of the mess.

 His brother glares at him from the outside, defying him with a smirk to get out of the tornado. Closing his eyes as not to enforce his migraine, he steps blindly forward, hands trembling and eager to find a wall to find some new failsafe support. His fingertips don’t quite touch anything of note, brushing against the temperature-shifting air he breathes. He continues on anyway, now aware this is a place he knows, a corridor that makes sense if he stops seeing it.

He needs to exit this place, this is all that comes to his mind. The creature will soon get used to the dizzying sparks of the outside. The storm will let down only once he’ll have found a room of calm and serenity. He’s used to it, he knows where he should be heading: the dark blue door, the one decorated with starry-like white dots that reminds him of the night sky. He remembers it so clearly.

 He trips on a misplaced carpet and scratches both knees and palms in his attempt at stopping his falls. It stings, but he’s used to such small pains, and he continues walking as the wooden floor under his feet starts catching on fire behind his back. It smells like ash and smoke, going into his nose and down his trachea, making him cough as he tries to still breathe. His sense of smell is neutralized, with his earing and touch all he has left to guide himself. It’s fine, he’ll manage: sensory deprivation isn’t an unfamiliar feeling.

Around him resonate double, echoing laughter. He doesn’t recognize the voices enough to tell who they belong to, yet they’re familiar: they sound like former friends who turned his back on him once upon a time, people he’s wanted to forget the faces and names of, who’ve only stared at him with vengeful eyes since then. Some sound more common than the rest, others are more recent and he can swear he hears accents in some of the whispers thrown his ways. It’s fine, he’ll manage: being told he’s useless and getting threatened for being ineffective isn’t an unfamiliar feeling.

 He falls again, but this time, his eyes open. Before him is the bloodied hand of his brother and blue irises staring right into his, daggers planting themselves in his flesh as wooden shards search for a way to pierce through his legs’ skin. It hurts, he thinks he may have sprained his wrists and ankles in his fall. The hand is unwelcoming, the smoke invades his vision, makes his eyes tear up and blurry, water running down his cheeks. He still takes the offer nonetheless and tries rising to his feet, only to fall back down as he gets thrown backwards.

His brother sneers, words unintelligible, but hurtful anyway; and, in a moment of solace, he witnesses his own past self get engulfed by the snake who slithers in the dark of his bedroom, until the fangs throw themselves at him and he stops feeling anything.

 It’s fine because he’s used to the acid inside this deadly jaw, it’s fine because he’ll wake up in a sweat, just like he does every time. It’s a loop he’s not found the hole to yet, but this time, he finds back the hope spot before he can—

 Not unlike every other night before, Hikaru wakes up in a bolt, drenched in sweat, light hurting his eyes from how suddenly they’ve snapped open. His vision is blurry at first, but then clarifies, and he notices something strange right from the get-go: he isn’t alone.

Hanging right over his is the face of Endou, looking right at him. By sweeping across the room with his glance, he recognizes other faces: Nosaka, Hiura, Mikado, Asuto, Nishikage in the distance. It’s not his bedroom either: it looks like they’re near the pitch instead, if he can trust his sole vision of the ceiling and vague patch of green on his left.

 “Ichihoshi, can you hear me?” Endou asks, looking somewhat concerned.  

He tries smiling as an answer (that’s kind of a weird reflex to have), but chooses to also add a weak “yes” to his reply.

“Thank goodness!” Asuto sounds relieved. “We were so scared when you just collapsed like that!”

Ah, he’s forgotten to wonder how he even ended in this situation. On the other hand, is there really a point in asking himself questions he can’t find a reply to? His head is a mess.

 He feels something cold and wet being put on his forehead. He tries to put a hand on it to identify that, but his wrist won’t move, and he wonders if he’s not sprained it. Of course, it’s not possible: that was in his dream. He’s wide awake now, as he can tell from the lack of eyes trying to peek into his mind’s stained secrets.

“Take some rest,” Endou continues speaking, this expression not leaving his face.

“W-wait… What happened…?” He manages to ask.

 Endou’s face gets pushed aside by Nosaka’s, whose eyebrows are frowning and usual smirk has made a hundred-eighty. He looks less than pleased.

“Like Asuto just said, you suddenly collapsed during our usual training regimen. Technically, you merely fell asleep, so we were relieved until you started thrashing in your sleep.”

“Ah, yeah,” Asuto chimes in, “that was scary! Are you sure you’re okay?”

Good question.

“I guess…?”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Nosaka comments, arms crossed.

“You have a fever,” Mikado ends the sentence.

That makes sense, he supposes… It’s just weird that he has no recollection of ever getting this fever in the first place, even if it doesn’t sound too out-of-place for a thing like this to cause his memory to

“I’ll fetch Sekiya,” she adds before leaving.

 Despite the tension and the concern, these stares are comfortable, and he surprises himself to catch his eyelids closing on their own again. While this isn’t foreign, it’s been years since he’s felt this way. Strange and yet soothing, his brain doesn’t know what to make of it.

“You’re sure you’re fine?” Asuto asks, insistent. “You really looked in pain when you were asleep!”

Hikaru sits up, now that his body finally responds, making sure the cloth doesn’t fall off from his forehead. He still feels hands in his back, most likely Endou’s.

“It’s fine… I’m used to it.”

“Used to it?!”

 Both Asuto and Endou look horrified. Well, he should have seen it coming that others wouldn’t find it that usual, but it’s not worth this sudden appal.

“That makes it even less okay!” The former yells, drilling a hole through his already thumbing skull.

“I agree with Asuto,” Endou adds. “You should have talked to us about these. These absolutely can’t be good!”

“I know, but really, I’ll be fine…” He doesn’t like all the fuss, especially when he considers what he’s once done to them. “They’ve gotten better with time too.”

“For how long have they lasted?” Nosaka then asks again, not letting himself display the same kind of horror as their other teammates.

“I don’t really remember… I think they started when I joined Orion, but I forgot when exactly. They come in and out…”

 Everyone still looks appalled.

“What are those about?” Endou eventually speaks out.

“I don’t really know… They’re about my times at Orion, I’m sure of that, but they’re usually so abstract that it’s hard to tell. I think that’s why there’s always eyes glaring at me whenever I have those nightmares…”

He giggles at himself, “today was just worse than usual. It’s calmed down considerably since joining the team and… that’s why I’m convinced they’ll go away, eventually.”

“You’re still overexerted,” Nosaka comments, not without reason. “Even if we’re fighting Orion, you shouldn’t do that again. Having you collapse during a match would be a disaster.”

“I’m with Nosaka,” Endou adds. “You need rest, or else you won’t be able to do anything on the field!”

“B-but… If I’m not playing, are you going to…” Abandon him? No, he can’t say that out loud, not after what he’s done… Instead, he goes silent. He just can’t say that.

“Don’t worry for us, we have your back!” Asuto sounds as confident and happy as ever, even if he can tell his teammate is worried.

He laughs again, softly, to himself. “Thank you…”

 To his numbed surprise, Hikaru falls back asleep almost immediately, energy dragged down the well of the thoughts and wrapped in warmth again. Passing out like this in full daylight is but a weird experience he isn’t used to, but that’s fine: change needs to happen and, for once, he isn’t scared about losing something if he goes unconscious for a couple hours.

May the nightmares stop, now that he feels safe and sound.

[magicalwardrobe-mw]

There Are Stars In Your Eyes: 2-Regulus

Summary:  Walburga Black hadn’t expected yet another pregnancy so late in life. Sirius and Regulus loved their sister to death anyway.

Rating: T (because I’m a bit paranoid).

You can also find it from the beginnin on AO3 or FF.

And here’s the first chapter.

Here you have the second chapter, in which Voldemort is not aware of the power of Coca-Cola.

Regulus.

Cassia usually was a patient child. Usually.

She wasn't so patient when the people she loved were in danger.

Her mother caught her dozing off against the wall of the stars in the early morning and her screeching woke her up for the rest of the day. Mother sent her to her father on his study and Father gave her some biscuits and a glass of warm milk.

But Cassia refused to talk. And when she felt her father trying to enter her mind like he did during their Occlumany lessons, she tensed up and started thinking of the newest Celestina Warbeck song.

Her father made a face and backed off. He hated Celestina Warbeck’s music with passion. He was curious but couldn’t help but feel very proud at his daughter accomplishment.

“I see you don’t want to talk about this,” he noted.

Cassia happily shook her head.

“Does it have to do with why Kreacher isn’t anywhere to be seen?”

Cassia tensed and shook her head less convincingly. Her father didn’t fall for it.

“Does it have to do with Regulus?” he asked. “He’s missing, too,” he said. “And I usually wouldn’t give it much thought, but with everything that is going on…”

Cassia raised her head and in her eyes Orion could read her worry and anguish. He sighed and rubbed his face.

“If he’s in trouble you have to tell me, Cassiopeia,” he said. “I can help him.”

Cassia just shook her head again. Her lips were pressed together tightly, as if that would help her not to spill the secret. And her father knew she was stubborn enough.

Luckily for them at that same moment Kreacher and Regulus appeared right in the middle of the study. Regulus was deathly pale and shivering, his grey eyes wide with fright.

“Regulus!” Orion jumped on his feet and rushed towards his son.

Cassia wasn’t far behind. “Reg! Reg! Kreek! What happened?”

“Son! Son, are you alright?” their father was frenetic.

“Wa-water,” gasped Regulus. “Water.”

Kreacher, who was as pale as his Master, disappeared with a crack and reappeared seconds later with five big jugs full of fresh water. Regulus threw himself at the nearest jug and started drinking sloppily.

They all waited patiently while Regulus drank four of the jars, getting almost as many water on his robes, and then looked at them breathing heavily.

“What happened?” asked Cassia with a small voice.

Regulus focused his eyes on her, drinking her in. “Kreacher took me to the cave,” he whispered. “And everything was like he said it was… I ordered him to make me drink the potion and it made me see the most terrible things,” he shivered and his eyes filled with tears. “I-I finished it and then Kreacher swapped the lockets. And then I started to feel so thirsty…” his gaze unfocused and it seemed like he was unable to say anything else.

Cassia then turned to the house-elf. “Kreek?”

“Master Regulus started heading into the lake,” he said. “Like Kreacher had done all those days ago. But Kreacher knew that if Master Regulus went into the water then Master Regulus would never come back. And then Kreacher remembered Mistress Cassiopeia’s bag. The water was gone but Mistress Cassiopeia’s strange drink was still there. So Kreacher gave it to Master Regulus. And Master Regulus drank it.”

Regulus finally raised his head. “It helped me think straight,” he said. “And so I told Kreacher to apparate us here.”

Orion, who had been calmly listening to the whole explanation kneeling on the floor, stood up and walked to sit behind his desk once again. “Cassiopeia, go to your room.”

Cassia’s eyes widened. “What? No!” the little girl crossed her arms. “I’m not going anywhere. I want to know what happened to Regulus.”

Her father’s face was stern. “Cassiopeia, you don’t need to hear this. Now go to your room. Mrs. Pyrites is going to be here soon.”

The chandelier clinked and the candles tittered for some seconds. And then Cassia clenched her teeth and stormed off the room.

Orion looked at his youngest son and gestured him to have a seat. “Now tell me,” he said. “What is this locket you’re talking about?”

 Regulus recovered quickly and tried to make it seem like nothing had happened. But Cassia knew better. She knew her father and her brother were trying to hide something from her and even Kreacher refused to talk.

And Cassia could see the fear in Regulus eyes when he thought nobody was watching, and the dark circles under his eyes, the tremor on his hands and how he didn’t seem to eat anymore.

But they still refused to tell her anything.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O

“Are you sure she can do this?” Regulus asked his father. “Won’t it be too dangerous?”

Cassia looked away from the library and turned to glare at her brother. “I’m seven years old!” she reminded him proudly. “I can do this!”

“Nobody will think we made her the Secret Keeper,” said Orion. “I doubt they will even believe it possible. And from what you’ve told me of your Dark Lord… he has the habit of underestimating people. This will work. Trust me.”

Regulus didn’t seem all that convinced. “I just don’t want them going after her and…” he shivered at the tortures his mind conjured up.

“Do you think I’ll let them get her?” Orion looked even amused. “And she’s a Black, after all. They won’t hurt her.”

Regulus nodded to himself. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

Both wizards got out their wands and Cassia walked to stand at Regulus side. Orion looked at the determination in both of his children’s faces and he felt a pang of sadness in his heart.

“This spell is really difficult and it’s very important you do everything right,” Orion’s voice was concerned. “Do you remember all the steps?”

Cassia nodded. “Yes. We’ve been practicing for ages.”

Regulus steeled himself. “We’re ready, Father,” he said.

Orion breathed in deeply. “Alright. Let’s cast the Fidelius,” he said. “I will talk you through it.”

 Cassia’s eyelids were dropping by the time the spell was finished, designating her the Secret Keeper of her brother’s new home right by the sea. From her Father’s suddenly confused expression as he looked around, Cassia guessed it had worked.

She whispered him the address and her Father’s eyes cleared. He smiled at Regulus, suddenly visible to him, and tugged his daughter in a hug, feeling immensely proud.

“Alright, now it’s done,” said Orion. “You have to keep it a secret from everyone,” he reminded Cassia.

She looked at him solemnly. “I will, Father.”

And for one second Orion regretted making his daughter grow up so fast just like that. Her grey eyes were old and sad and he wished he hadn’t needed to make them that way.

But then she beamed and the childhood came back rushing to her face. “Can I see the house? Can I paint my room? Can I make it lavender?”

Regulus and Orion shared a look and they let out a small laugh, relieved.

“Of course you can,” Regulus told her. “You can help me paint your room if you want. And buy some things for the kitchen.”

Cassia laughed. “Like you know how to cook.”

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O

“What’s an Horcrux?”

Regulus concentration faltered and the big pot he was floating in front of him dropped to the floor, spilling most of the stew. “W-where did you hear that?”

Cassia looked at her feet. “I heard you,” she confessed. “When you were talking with Father,” she looked up, curious. “What is it?”

Regulus sighed and with a wave of his wand made the ruined dinner disappear. “That’s not something you should know.”

“Come on!” Cassia huffed. “It’s not like I could tell anybody. Pleaaase? I just want to know,” she narrowed her eyes. “I can always ask Sirius…”

Regulus sat on the chair next to his sister. “Do not tell Sirius anything of what I’m about to tell you, alright?”

“I promise.”

Regulus regarded her for some seconds. “A Horcrux is dark magic, very dark magic. When you kill somebody your soul breaks a little and you can get a part of your soul and put it inside an object,” he explained. “That way even if they kill you, you’ll still be alive –somewhat– and won’t really die.”

Cassia furrowed her brows. “But you have to kill someone?” she asked appalled.

Regulus was strangely relieved to see her so disgusted. “That’s why it’s dark magic,” he wasn’t going to enter in the logistics of the ritual that really made the Horcruxes. “Do you know my friend I told you about some time ago? Well, he is a bad man, a really bad one. And he has killed lots of people.”

Cassia’s eyes widened. “So he has lots of Ho’cruxs?”

“He does. At first I thought it was only one, the one Kreacher and I got from the cove. The locket. But Father believes otherwise.”

She wrinkled her nose. “But you are going to get them all, right?” her eyes were hopeful. “And he will stop killing people.”

Regulus could tell her that it wasn’t that easy, that they didn’t know how many Horcruxes were out there, or even what they were and that it was a really dangerous job with the Dark Lord and its followers lurking. But he didn’t want to see the admiration and hope fade from her eyes.

So he smiled instead. “Of course,” he said.

Cassia nodded and then looked at him thoughtfully. “What’s an orgasm?”

“Merlin’s balls!”  

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Cassia stabbed the notebook Miss Dahlia had bought her with the quill. A couple of the carefully written calculations she had to resolve got stained with ink and she groaned.

“What did that quill ever do to you?” Orion looked up from his own parchments with an amused smile.

They were both on the study, Walburga was out on the Diagon Alley, shopping, and Kreacher was on his weekly cleaning visit to Regulus cottage. And so Orion had told his daughter to do her homework with him and they both worked on silence.

“It’s not that,” Cassia looked at him. “It’s just that… today Mrs. Pyrites was trying to teach me a new dance. She said it was very easy but I… I didn’t get it and she said I was a stupid child.”

Orion’s eyes flashed. “She did?” he put the quill back on the inkwell. “What dance were you learning?”

“The waltz?” Cassia scrunched her nose. “She said it was really easy and I shouldn’t have so many problems.”

“Well, that’s probably because she didn’t know how to lead,” and his eyes were mischievous for a second. “Would you like me to teach you?”

Cassia’s eyes widened and she grinned at him. “If you don’t mind…”

Orion walked to the middle of the room and, with a wave of his wand he made the furniture move to the sides of the room. That left a big space to move around without crashing with something.

“First,” said Orion. “We need some music.”

There was an old gramophone in one of the corners of the room and it started to play a soft melody with violins and pianos and a whole orchestra when Orion pointed at it with his wand. Then he grinned at his daughter and extended his hands.

“You have to put your left hand on my shoulder and grab my left one with your right.”

Cassia obeyed but her left arm was too short. “I can’t reach your shoulder,” she huffed.

Orion looked at the frustrated eyes of his daughter and decided to forego all propriety and just have some fun instead. He remembered a ball years ago, when he saw Mr. Fawley dancing with one of his daughters. It had caused a lot of talks even in the following days, but he remembered the carefree laughs of the little girl.

“Stand on my toes,” he said.

Cassia blinked. “What?”

“Stand on my toes,” he repeated. “I’ll dance and you’ll dance with me.”

Cassia obeyed reluctantly but a small smile curved her lips when he started to move and she had to hold on tight. Her father saw it and then started to glide around the room energetically with the little girl clinging to him.

After a fast twirl Cassia started to laugh, which was what Orion had wanted since the beginning, and his heart soared.

“Mrs. Pyrites didn’t teach you like this, did she?”

Cassia giggled and hid her face on her father’s chest. “No!” her voice, muffled on his coat, shook with laughter.

“Good.”

 “And spin!” Orion grabbed her daughter’s hand high and made her twirl several times.

Cassia’s giggles filled the room as both father and daughter moved gracefully through the room. Orion had started teaching the correct waltz but he couldn’t help but mess around a bit to make her laugh.

His sons, mostly Sirius, had to get their mischief from someone. And it certainly wasn’t Walburga.

Cassia saw her father frown and their dance stopped. “Father, what’s wrong?”

“Someone is here,” he said. “And it’s not your mother.”

Cassia’s face light up. “It’s Regulus?”

He shook his head. “I think it’s one of your cousins, but she doesn’t come alone.”

The little girl made a face. Bellatrix and Narcissa were far to grown up for her and they still treated her like she was four. So Cassia wasn’t very fond of them.

“What is she doing here? Doesn’t she know Mother is out?”

Orion’s face hardened. “I think that’s why she’s here,” he said darkly. “Quick, hide in the window!” he ordered.

Cassia blinked. “What?”

Her father grabbed her shoulder and dragged her to the big bay window looking over the muggle neighbourhood. He patted the window seat where Cassia usually liked to spend her time when she was in the study, and looked at her with urgency.

“Father, I don’t understand,” said Cassia.

“Just get inside,” he begged. “Please.”

Cassia obeyed, still rather loss, and dropped her head against the cool glass. She raised her knees to her chest and hugged them. “Father…”

But Orion had already untied the laces holding back the curtains and was already closing them.

“Father!”

“Cassiopeia,” Orion let go of the curtains and crouched so he was eye to eye with her. “I need you to stay really quiet, alright? And don’t come out, no matter what you might see and no matter what you hear. Can you promise me that?”

Cassia gulped. “Father…”

“Can you promise me that?” he asked once again, more urgently.

She nodded and he went back to closing the drapes, enclosing her inside. “Daddy,” her voice was small. “I’m afraid.”

His heart broke a little. “Everything is going to be alright, I promise,” he said. “They won’t touch you.”

And he tugged one last time, leaving her looking at the flowered shroud instead of him. Cassia hugged her knees closer and tried to listen to whatever that was going on outside. The curtain had left a small gap close to Cassia’s head from where she could peer out without being seen.

She could see her father sitting back on his chair and tidying the papers he had been working on before their impromptu dance session. Cassia could hear the knock on the door over the soft still playing music.

“Come in,” her father said.

It was Bellatrix, proud and tall, with two slender men guarding her back. Bellatrix’s eyes took in the room and a wide smile curved her lips.

“Uncle Orion!” she exclaimed happily. “It’s so good to see you are home.”

Orion’s face remained apathetic. “Bella,” he said. “What brings you, your husband and young Mr. Lestrange to my house?”

Bella waved him off airily. “Oh! We were in the neighbourhood and I thought I could teach Rod here my uncle’s home. Grimmauld Place is quite the magical property, you know? In the middle of a muggle street but with no one to take notice of it.”

“Yes, I know,” he stated dryly amused.

Bella flushed. “Of course you know!” her fluster seemed fake. “Is Reggie here?” she asked. “Rab wanted to talk with him.”

“I’m afraid Regulus is no longer living with us,” he said. “He decided he was too old to keep living with his parents and got his own house. But if Mr. Lestrange tells me what he wants him for I can surely pass along the message.”

Rabastan Lestrange took in stride. “The Falmouth Falcons are playing against the Tornados this week and I have two tickets for the match. Regulus is a big Tornados fan and I wanted to ask him to come with me.”

To Cassia’s surprise, her father’s smile only tightened at the answer. “Oh, I will tell him when I see him. I’m sure he will want to go,” he stood up on this chair. “Now, why don’t you let me walk you to the door? Maybe I can even show you around some parts of the house.”

And then Bella’s façade dropped and she strutted to the big wooden desk, slamming her hands over it. “Let’s go to the point,” she said coolly. “Where’s Regulus? He hasn’t been showing up to our meetings in two months! The Dark Lord doesn’t like to be abandoned. We’ve been searching for him but we can’t locate him and the Dark Lord believes he has cast a Fidelius Charm. And who but you would be the Secret Keeper? So. Where. Is. He?” she punctuated each word with a punch on the wood.

Orion just raised his brow. “And what makes you think I’m going to tell you?”

Bella’s eyes narrowed. “If you don’t tell me then I’m going to have to make you tell me,” she said with her eyes bright.

Cassia would remember the minutes that followed for the rest of her life. The duel was fast-paced and at first it seemed like her father would win with his dark curses, but they were three, younger and quicker than him. So in the end he fell.

His tortured screams rang in Cassia’s ears. She hid her face between her knees and put her arms around her head, covering her ears. She counted to ten and tried all the Occlumancy tricks her father had ever taught her to keep herself calm.

And then, after a long while, there was silence.

Cassia’s heart pounded on her head and she dared to peek again through the gap.

Her father was clutching the edge of his desk to keep standing. Blood trickled from numerous wounds on his face and under his robes but his gaze was still determined.

“I will not tell you where my son is,” Orion said. “And I won’t break. So you better be going.”

Rodolphus Lestrange huffed on the background. “This old man is useless, he won’t say anything,” carelessly he raised his wand. “Avada Kedavra.”

There was a flash of green light and Cassia watched her father drop to the ground. His head was twisted to the side, looking in her direction, but she could see that his eyes were completely empty. She held back the scream rising in her throat but she couldn’t help the sniffles.

The curtain ripped open and Cassia was left staring at the dark eyes of a surprised Rabastan Lestrange.

“-dare you? He was a Black!” Bellatrix was berating her husband. “We weren’t supposed to kill him!”

“My, my, what do we have here?”

Cassia’s fingers dug into her own legs and silent tears ran down her cheeks. The Lestrange man eyed her somewhat impressed and then turned to call at his companions.

“Cassiopeia!” Bellatrix exclaimed surprised.

Rodolphus face was suspicious. “Do you think she knows anything?”

“She’s just a kid,” scoffed Rabastan.

Bellatrix crouched in front of the window seat. “Hey, Cassie. Do you know where your brother is?”

Cassia shook her head. She wasn’t going to tell those monsters the directions to her brother’s house so they could kill him, too.

“Are you sure?” pressed Rodolphus.

Rabastan snorted. “What? Do you think she’s the Secret Keeper? She’s just a child, that’s not possible. We’re wasting our time here. We don’t really know how this Fidelius thing works, maybe he was the Secret Keeper and the secret died with him,” he said. “We should report back to the Dark Lord.”

Bellatrix sighed. “You’re right,” she patted Cassia’s knees. “What you saw… keep it between us, alright?”

Cassia remained there, staring blankly at the body of her father, long after the visitors had gone. And then she felt a tight knot on her chest and a prickling behind her eyes and she knew she needed someone to hug.

So she ran downstairs and threw herself to the fireplace.

“The Reef!”

Any thoughts?

[roseymoseyberry]

The Prime’s Intended (4/?)

What’s up, it’s your girl Rosey, and I’m back with more of this nonsense.

Title: The Prime’s Intended

Series: TFP post-war AU where Optimus didn’t die

Ship(s): Optimus/Ratchet

Tags/warnings: Big Awful Public Wedding AU, Established Relationship, outing a relationship without consent, and just a lot of dealing with bullshit from paparazzi/media/etc. Mentions of sticky interfacing, but none on screen

Fic Summary:

“A photographer spotted us leaving your quarters this morning.”

In which paparazzi out Ratchet and Optimus’s relationship, their PR consultant plans them the biggest and most extravagant public wedding they never wanted, and Ratchet has to deal with suddenly becoming the Prime’s conjunx-to-be.

Chapter Summary:

"It'll be fine, old friend. Just follow what we discussed and try to be -- well, your nicest self."

| Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Optimus had worried all morning as Ratchet washed himself more purposefully than usual. Hell, while it wasn't a word that Ratchet would normally use to describe his lover, there was no other way to put it than Optimus fussed as he helped Ratchet apply a new layer of wax on his plating. Ratchet was fairly certain the last time he had bothered to wax when it wasn't time for his annual checkup was when he was made Chief Medical Officer of the Autobots. He hadn’t even bothered when he was made the Chief Medical Officer of Cybertron – he was simply too old to be bothered with such vanities anymore.

Or, at least, he had thought he had finally outgrown them.

Ratchet eventually waved his lover off.

"Would you stop that hovering? You're starting to make me anxious."

Optimus looked unconvinced, and for good reason.

Ratchet was already, without a doubt, a bundle of anxiety.

Speaking wasn't his strong suit. Never had been. Oh, he had bedside manner aplenty despite the way mecha joked about him -- he could read individual patients at a glance and act accordingly. And arguing, well. No one would try to say he wasn't damned good in an argument. Public speeches were less natural to Ratchet, but he had presented to other medics before the war, and had relearned the rhythm and cadence of it after.

But that was in small groups, or about topics unrelated to himself. It was about his patients, or medical procedures and research, or the good of the health of Cybertron's citizens.

Ratchet had never had to discuss himself in any real personal manner that wasn't with mecha he trusted.

Optimus leaned in slowly, pressing a kiss to Ratchet's helm.

"It'll be fine, old friend. Just follow what we discussed and try to be -- well, your nicest self."

"Rude," Ratchet groused, even as he leaned back to revel in his lover's servos that grasped and kneaded his shoulders.

"Simply being honest. You know I love you, but you can occasionally be--"

"An aft."

"--Abrasive," Optimus corrected. "But you will be fine. It's just a few interviews. And if you have changed your mind--"

"I don't need you to make excuses for me. Like you said, it's just some interviews. I can handle that much at least.”

"I know you can. But you do not need to if you don't wish to."

Oh, it was tempting. Ratchet had successfully managed to stay locked away behind official and private doors, not having dared to go out in public just yet, keeping his awareness of the chaos waiting beyond the walls around him to just the hypothetical. It was almost easier to deal with the frustration when he could really believe that at the end of the month everything could go back to the way it was.

But he knew he could not hide forever.

Not with Optimus as his bonded.

Ratchet let his optics drift offline as he leaned back against Optimus.

“If Cybertron is so desperate to get to know me, then that’s their folly and they’ll just have to live with the consequences when I give them what they want.”

Optimus huffed with amusement as his frame eased behind Ratchet.

Ratchet didn’t feel the least bit relaxed but hid it well as he let his partner finish applying his wax and give him a good luck kiss.

“You must be Prime’s intended,” said the mech at the front desk brightly when Ratchet arrived, the words accompanied by an awed expression as he handed Ratchet the itinerary and then led him down the hall.

“Look alive, folks! Prime’s conjunx-to-be has arrived,” announced the photographer to his aids when Ratchet was dragged into the photoshoot studio to suffer through the awkwardness of trying to present himself well in front of a camera he hadn’t known would be involved at all.

“An honor to meet Prime’s lover,” said the mech who would be interviewing him with a slimy megawatt smile that would put even Spinmaster to shame as she held out her servo to Ratchet to shake.

“Ratchet,” he corrected irritably. Already his plating felt itchy and too tight with the repressed frustration that he had to be the first one to say his own damned designation in this damned building.

“A pleasure,” she replied without missing a beat, as if she hadn’t noticed at all, too busy smiling and gesturing towards a pair of plush chairs. “Please, take a seat and make yourself comfortable. I’ll have my aid get you some energon and then whenever you’re ready we can get started.”

Ratchet would swear he could see the entire surface of the mech’s dentae with how wide her smile was. If the results of this interview were to only reflect on him, Ratchet would have well lost his patience already and let himself be belligerent and petty, because so far as he had seen, the staff deserved little better. They all looked at his face in a way that clearly belied the fact that they were thinking about Optimus. It was insulting.

But this would reflect on Optimus. This was public politics that Ratchet was stepping into and it wasn’t his career that was likely to suffer from any backlash.

It took effort for Ratchet to force out a small wane smile of his own in return.

The day never improved. Different faces in different buildings had only the same sorts of questions to ask.

Some were so banal and dull that Ratchet just gave the same answers eventually. Questions about who he was -- a medic, the Autobot’s CMO, now Cybertron’s CMO. Questions about the bonding ceremony -- the date and the possible venues and any details that Ratchet could not give because he honestly didn’t know them. Questions about if he was excited, eager to bond with his lover, with Optimus Prime! – yes, of course, Ratchet had to lie through his dentae, telling himself again and again it wasn’t a lie so much as exaggeration because he was happy to be bonded to Optimus, the upcoming ceremony be damned.

The questions of how they met were a little more difficult, but Ratchet had been prepared for that.

“We met long before Optimus was, well, Optimus. He was still Orion Pax, an archivist at the Halls, and I was one of many med students who spent half his time being ordered around a hospital and the other half parked in the Halls writing papers and desperately fighting off recharge. It’s a miracle that we managed to form a friendship with our schedules, but clearly it worked out--”

Questions about how they had become lovers were expected, but that didn’t make it easy. It still felt wrong to talk openly about them being lovers at all, let alone to try to explain the intricacies of their shared lives in an easy to digest answer.

How could Ratchet ever explain the way that impending revolution and civil war had put a harsh halt to the way they two had been drawn towards the inevitable conclusion of their feelings for one another; how Orion becoming Optimus had uprooted their lives and shook their friendship to its core as Optimus flung himself helm-first into war and Ratchet followed on his heels; how easy it became to ignore the beating of their own sparks when surrounded by war, a war which well over half the current population of Cybertron had abandoned and never known and would never understand when reading some article in a magazine?

How would any civilian understand the quiet horror of being surrounded by death and the unfulfilled dreams it left in its wake, and how that constant horror finally had Optimus pulling Ratchet close on a night like any other, apologizing in the same breath that he explained he needed Ratchet to know he loved him?

How could they understand how Ratchet had wept in his arms with relief because he had thought himself condemned to taking his love for Optimus to his grave?

Cybertron wanted a cute story, not the melancholic desperation of soldiers grasping ahold of one another and hoping against hope it would not end in tragedy.

“I wish I had a better story to tell, but it was just a matter of one of us finally saying something. Optimus was always the braver of us, and Primus did I—I care so deeply for him.”

It was never enough for the mecha interviewing him. They would push and poke and prod with further questions, but inevitably they would accept that Ratchet was not going to open up about it.

“Shy” they had called him. “Shy” and “Bashful” and “Sweet” and any other number of words that Ratchet had never heard thrown at him of all mecha.

But he would have taken them over the questions that he and Optimus had spent their millennia together avoiding.

Optimus Prime was Ratchet’s leader.

Ratchet was Optimus Prime’s Doctor.

No one dared to suggest that they would ever say anything about the arrangement. Every interviewer would wave a dismissive servo or wear that sly look, like they were in on some joke they shared with Ratchet. I’m on your side their smiles said as they voiced concerns about work place ethics and abuse of authority and the possibilities that one of them may be taking advantage of the other.

I believe you their servos on Ratchet’s wrist suggested when Ratchet would manage to sputter out the practiced response about constant communication and checking in with one another, because neither of them would ever wish to coerce the other, let alone take advantage.

Because explaining that amongst the Autobots, Optimus had been everyone’s leader and Ratchet had been everyone’s doctor, and that the idea of committing themselves to loneliness with no end in sight was too horrible to consider--

--It wasn’t terribly romantic either.

No amount of assurance in the interviewers’ voices comforted Ratchet. Every damned time the next interviewer would start talking in that too-sweet voice, Ratchet’s spark would twist, knowing it was coming and wishing that just this once they wouldn’t ask and thus remind him of all those mecha out there who would think the worst of their coupling.

Ratchet wasn’t sure which was worse: that they would think Ratchet was taking advantage of Optimus, or that Optimus was taking advantage of him.

Both made him feel sick to consider.

And then would come questions he hadn’t seen coming. No doubt they were meant to be palate cleansers since they were all the sorts of questions Ratchet would have expected to be asked around groups of newly forged mecha.

“Now, we’re all dying to know. What is Optimus like behind closed doors? Is he—”

“—romantic?” most interviewers started with, as if they were imagining Optimus like some mech out of a romantic novel, carrying frivolous gifts while speaking overly mushy words of love.

“—passionate?” the last interviewer jumped right to with a sharp gleam to his optics, and Ratchet knew at once he meant something far more lascivious.

Was he a physical lover like the photos suggested, easily dropping affectionate kisses while touching Ratchet with ease, and could the public expect to see more of that side of their relationship? Was he funny or was he serious or was he gentle or was he passionate -- again and again each interviewer would finally ask that most important question.

“Is Optimus passionate?”

Does he frag you? their optics asked when their voice boxes couldn’t.

Is our great Prime also a great frag?

Does he make love or does he frag hard and fast until you’re screaming?

Won’t you tell us about every which way your arrays have aligned so we might imagine what it’s like to frag the Optimus Prime?

Ratchet had never considered himself a prude by any stretch of the imagination, and yet found himself burning from the inside out from embarrassment and shame.

“I’m happy with him and I make him happy, and that’s all anyone else needs to know,” Ratchet managed when all he wanted to do was scream that it wasn’t their damned business.

The moments they had together – Optimus’s large and sure servos interlocking with Ratchet’s and the affection in Optimus’s optics whenever he looked at Ratchet and the warm timbre of Optimus’s voice when he asked Ratchet every night how his day had been – didn’t belong to anyone but them.

“Shy” they all called him again, as if that could be the only reason Ratchet wouldn’t tell them about the way their frames fit together when they went into recharge each night.

But Ratchet managed to make it through each interview, and if he got to experience some glee in seeing the brief flickers of frustration on his interviewers’ faces, that was something at least.

Until that very last interview.

“Can you fully merge?”

Ratchet’s spark stopped cold in his chest as his optics went wide.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, I know, that wasn’t an approved question, but some of our readers are starting to wonder about that. What with the situation with the Matrix and all--”

“What?”

Watts, Spinmaster’s aid who had followed in Ratchet’s shadow all day to speak with the other staff members and no doubt to keep an optic on him, looked up sharply at his tone, her optics at once narrowing at the interviewer.

The interviewer at least bothered to look abashed, but still continued even as Watts started walking over, “As our Prime, Optimus’s spark communes with the Matrix, doesn’t it?” Ratchet nodded shortly, processor still reeling with confusion while his spark only grew colder with some realization it wasn’t yet sharing. “Well then, when the two of you merge – if you have yet, of course, I would never assume –”

“Don’t answer him,” Watts interrupted, standing at Ratchet’s side, and despite her minibot frame she did her best to look irate as he gestured at the interviewer with the datapad in her servo. “That topic is outlined as strictly off limits so you best stop right there or this interview is over.”

“What topic?” Ratchet asked, irritated at the conversation going on around him. Since when had there been off limit topics? Who had decided that and why hadn’t they bothered to consult him about it? And what the frag was all of this about spark merging—

The interviewer’s optics gleamed like a predator’s as he spoke over Watts protests.

“Presumably you can’t merge with the part of the Prime’s spark that communes with the Matrix, so are you able to truly bond?”

Watts had started nearly shouting now, though Ratchet wasn’t sure who at and what about because all he could hear was the rush of energon pounding through his frame. The frustration that had built over the span of the day felt as if it was boiling over in his lines.

And the bitter twist of shame in his spark finally set his temper aflame.

“Do you really think that whether we can complete a full spark merge makes any damned difference?” Ratchet snapped. Watts placed a servo on his wrist that he shook off as he pointed aggressively at the interviewer. “No, you don’t, because that has never been a requirement for legal bonding and never will be. There are plenty of bonded who do not merge fully for plenty of reasons and their bonds aren’t questioned. So just get to your point!” Watts was desperately trying to placate him now, but Ratchet didn’t pay it any mind as his optics narrowed in their focus on the interviewer whose fake smile wavered. “Just say that you want to throw doubt on our relationship until I pour out enough sordid details to prove myself that your readers can go home and self-service to their newly-informed fantasies of what it would be like to frag Optimus in my place!”

There was silence for that brief moment as the whole room seemed to gape. The interviewer’s optics had gone wide.

And then a genuine, albeit cruel, grin pulled at his lips.

Another staff member entered the fray though before he could speak, his servos gesturing placatingly as his gaze flipped from Ratchet to Watts and back, over and over. “Now, now, clearly things have gotten out of hand, so please let me offer apologies on behalf of the magazine. We would never want to suggest any insult to the Prime and his intended--”

“I have a name!” Ratchet shouted as he got to his pedes, aware of how his plating was flaring out. When the staff member just stared at him blankly for a moment before continuing with his asinine apology, Ratchet growled and he turned away to stalk out of the room.

Watts was close behind.

“Wait, sir, Ratchet,” she said as her short legs raced to bring her to walk just in front of him. It was the novelty of hearing someone else in the damned building say his name that had Ratchet finally looking down at her. There was something quick about the way her optics scanned his face, analytical and precise, and with a nod she continued, “Right, understood. I’ll handle damage control here and cancel the rest of your appointments for today. Security will be waiting for you out front to escort you back to wherever you’d like to go. Is there anything else you need?”

There were countless things Ratchet needed, the top of the list being a miracle that somehow he could have his old life back.

But that was impossible, so he shook his helm and escaped the building.

[avengers-nextgen]

The Rise Of The Lost XVI

Acacia had passed away in her sleep during the long hours of the night. Siyanda had been there- as well as Thalia-both of whom were fretting over someone very dear to them.

At first, Thalia heard the flatline and panicked believing it to be Sage’s. When she found it wasn’t a sinking feeling settled in her stomach. Siyanda didn’t cry this time around. She’d made her peace with the situation long before the battle ensued. It was only thanks to Thalia that she was able to feel somewhat at ease over her best friend’s death. Still, Thalia felt the need to make sure Siyanda was okay.

“I’m fine. She’s at peace and that’s what matters.” Thalia nodded and the silence was only filled by the faint beep of Sage’s heart monitor and Piper who was wide awake working on a tablet. The beeping was too slow and too soft for Thalia’s comfort. “Your cousin?”

“Alive, but barely.” Thalia swallowed tightly, feeling her eyes sting with tears.

“You need rest.” Siyanda insisted. Her leg was in a special sort of brace that acted as a lighter cast (something that Tony had invented once he realized his daughter was accident prone). Thalia didn’t have the strength to argue and simply nodded.

“I just worry what will happen if I’m not here.”

“Her brother is here,” Siyanda noted. Thalia glanced back at young Enzo who was curled in half on a chair.

Thalia lifted Siyanda with ease insisting she didn’t need to walk, and piggy backed her to her room. The door was eased open and Thalia strode in to set Siyanda upon her bed. The dark skinned girl noticed that Thalia was on the verge of crying once more but this time the tears did not recede. She moved to sit next to the Asgardian waiting patiently for Thalia to talk.

“It’s hard to love my father,” Thalia sniffed, “when I know how things could have been if he’d only left Sage be.”

Siyanda remained silent for a moment and took Thalia’s hand in her own giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s the people we love who manage to hurt us the most.”

“We could have grown up together.” Thalia sucked in a shaking breath and wiped vigorously at her tears with her free hand. “She’d have been happy.”

“Thalia...”

“And my father took everything from her.” The tears were coming faster now. “I wish I could fix it. That she wouldn’t be stuck in the hospital thinking no one loves her!”

Siyanda ran her thumbs gently beneath Thalia’s eyes to brush away the tears. “You love her. She knows that, deep down she knows you’re not like your father.”

“Maybe, but I just want a second chance.” Thalia’s sobs turned into soft sniffles and the tears began to fall less and less.

Siyanda gave her an empathetic look, “Stay here tonight.”

“I shouldn’t.” Thalia shook her head.

“I think it’s best. We’re both hurting, and I worry about you losing sleep to sneak out and hover over your cousin.” Siyanda saw Thalia smile faintly and the girl relented at last.

“Okay.” Thalia left for only a few minutes before returning in a fresh set of pajamas and with an eagerness for sleep. She found it easier than expected to bundle down and snuggle close to the Wakandan. Thalia was half asleep when she felt Siyanda press a light kiss to her forehead.

— — —

“James your poor face.” Natasha sighed inspecting his black eye, busted lip, and swollen cheek.

“Did you stop everything with your face?” Steve snickered. Nat gave him a somewhat evil look and he hurriedly kept quiet.

“I’ll be back.” Alex noted emerging from the bathroom having finished brushing her teeth.

“Where you going?” James wondered. He winced shortly after as ice was pressed against his cheek. “Mom, ow!”

“I’m making sure Piper’s okay and Enzo’s alright too.” Alex explained. Alex saw her dad give her a gentle and encouraging smile. He was always amazed by how kind and gentle she was.

The halls were quiet and the dim lights were switched on to minimize nightly electric usage. Piper was wide awake working away on something saved to her tablet with a smile on her face.

“You should be resting!” Alex scolded playfully.

“Yeah, yeah. I have a school project to finish!” Piper gave Alex a pointed look. Alex just rolled her eyes and gave Piper a careful hug.

“Just glad you’re okay. You have to keep that thing in tact.” Alex tapped the glowing reactor core gently.

“I know. I already got the lecture from my mom.” Piper snorted before ruffling Alex’s hair.

Alex did her best to fix it as she moved down the medical wing to find Enzo. The poor kid was sleeping awkwardly in an arm chair. “Alright kid, off to a proper bed.”

Alex scooped him up with ease, he was as light as she’d expected.

“Mom...five minutes.” Enzo groaned still half dead to the world from exhaustion. Piper snickered as Alex walked past.

“Yeah mom.”

“Shut up.” Alex rolled her eyes earning a teasing wink in response from Piper.

— — —

Orion answered the careful knock upon his door in the most unflattering get up possible. He had a set of big bulky headphones plugged into an old cassette player, with yellow socks on his feet, and white-orange plaid boxers on. “Yeah?”

Orion tugged the headphones down and paused the music to arch a questioning brow at Scout.

“My mother told me you took quite the beating for her.” Scout stood with his arms crossed. “Thanks.”

“Of course. I’d do anything for my mom.” Orion shrugged as if it weren’t much of a big deal.

“Agreed, but my mom, is not your mom. So, thank you.” Scout insisted. “You were, uh, on the phone with you parents recently. Are they having trouble getting here?”

“No, it’s just space has trouble at every turn it seems. It just takes a while.” Orion sighed. “Can’t say I don’t miss everyone though. Especially uncle Groot. He’s chill and all.”

“I hope they get here soon.” Scout smiled thinly. “My sources say a party is planned to celebrate our victory.”

“Cool. You know, my uncle Groot actually made my crib. Of course, my Uncle Rocket wanted my crib to be made of scrap metal so... my mom said no to that idea.” Orion chuckled.

“Are your uncles a, Uh, couple?”

“Well, Rocket says it’s a symbiotic relationship but Groot says, ‘I am Groot!’ You know? So, difference of opinion.” Orion shrugged.

“Riiight.” Scout nodded pretending to understand. “Well, thanks again, and goodnight.”

“Night.”

— — —

“You good?” Nathaniel asked sitting at the kitchen table sipping some tea.

“Yeah, just thinking.” Bianca nodded. “Things have changed a lot. Quickly too.”

“It happens.” Nathaniel sighed. “Point is, you have a lot to look forward to. Once we get you up to speed you could even go to school with Alex and the others.” Nathaniel smiled warmly.

“Is...is school nice?” Bianca asked hesitantly as she sat next to him.

“Well, it depends. Lunch is always nice, and when it’s a subject you like-things aren’t too bad! Sometimes boring classes suck though,” Nathaniel explained.

“I see.” Bianca pursed her lips as she processed the information. Nathaniel could sense a whole slew of questions heading his way but he saw a genuine and warm side to Bianca for the first time. So, he took each question patiently and did his best to explain.

He expected good things from her no matter what her past was.

— — —

“Back to the bar?” James sighed as he spotted Fox stuffing a duffel bag full of ‘borrowed’ supplies.

“I’m not staying here.” She replied cooly.

“Didn’t say you had to.” James snorted.

“No need to be so arrogant and smug.”

“You did a good thing today, you know.” James noted watching her zip up the bag.

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Fox snipped as she slung on her usual leather jacket.

“You did. You could have slipped out the back door like usual.” James crossed his arms. “But you didn’t. Why?”

“I make a profit James. That’s how I get by on a day to day basis. That requires those stupid ass companies to still be running properly. If they go out I have nothing.” Fox huffed, blowing a strand of hair from her face as she tugged open the drawer to the guest room nightstand and retrieved a circuit board. James didn’t even bother to ask how she’d gotten it.

“Don’t you feel proud of what you did? You saved a lot of people.” James frowned.

“Rich people who don’t give a shit about kids like me.” Slinging the bag onto her shoulder Fox turned to face James for the first time since they’d returned. He expected her to say something about his bruised face but she didn’t. Instead, James noticed the soft anger in her features.

“You will never be happy as long as you’re angry.”

“I have a lot to be angry about.” A curse slipped from her lips and she hurriedly set the bag down and shook off her jacket to inspect its pockets with an intense scrutiny. James’ eyes spotted something he’d never seen before.

Ridges traversed across the pale skin of her shoulders, the pink and puckered flesh peeked out just along the edge of her tank top. “Who beats you?”

“What?!” Her expression mirrored that of a cornered animal.

“Your back.” James gestured slightly at his own back. “The scars. Who’s the one that beats you?”

“None of your fucking business.” With that she collected the last of her things and stormed past him.

[piratefalls]

So I saw American Assassin today. Here’s what I thought:

Spoiler alert, as always. 

First thing’s first: if you’re going into this movie expecting some kind of Harry Potter book-to-screen adaptation, this ain’t your flick. This American Assassin is completely different from the canonical origin story of Mitch Rapp, a deadly counterterrorism asset who is brought into the fold of the super duper top secret Orion Team after his girlfriend is murdered in a terrorist attack. (In the book, this is an intentionally downed plane; in the movie, a bunch of terrorists shoot up a beach in Spain where Rapp and his girlfriend, Katrina, are vacationing.)

ONWARDS.

Naturally, Rapp is overwhelmingly burdened by the death of the woman he’d proposed to only minutes before she died right in front of him. What confuses me about this entire scene is that these terrorists show up on this beach, guns blazing on full automatic, just mowing people down as they’re looking for safety, obviously looking to cause maximum damage in a minimum amount of time, and yet when a terrorist walks up to Katrina to shoot her one last time, he leaves Mitch, who’s laying right there on the beach, very much alive, alone. If these men are looking to take as many possible lives as they can, why leave him alive on the beach? Their goal is not emotional anguish, it’s absolute annihilation of human life. Looking back, the plane crash (or something where Mitch isn’t right there when Katrina dies) would have made a little more sense.

I do appreciate that the personal revenge plot is fairly well disposed of in the first quarter of the movie. That drags on through the first three prequel books (one of which was never written, as Flynn passed before he could write it) and while I don’t think we ever canonically see Rapp get his revenge (please correct me if I’m wrong here, but I think him taking out the person who was responsible for the plane crash happened off the page simply because the third prequel never happened). Revenge driven plots are boring now. Give me something new, guys. 

ANYWAY.

We pick up 18 months later, Rapp has infiltrated the terrorist cell that was involved in Katrina’s death, and viewers discover he’s been training himself (martial arts, guns, learning Arabic, etc.) in order to take out this cell by himself. This is, obviously, a suicide mission. He lives, eats, and breathes revenge. Which, given the trauma he’s experienced, makes sense. I’d probably be out for revenge too if someone I loved deeply was murdered literally a foot from my face.

He finally gets to Libya, where the leader of the cell and Katrina’s murderer - Adnan Al-Mansur, played by Shahid Ahmed - interrogates him, asking him why he’s there, what his mission is, etc., and then all of a sudden shit goes down. Bullets flying, a wall comes down, and a special ops team comes in, guns blazing, mowing down this cell right as Mitch is about to get the revenge he’s been seeking for almost two years. He’d been looking to kill Al-Mansur with his own hands, and the CIA blows in here all like

He’s then detained in a CIA facility and put under a psych eval and other testing, most of which we never see but are told he’s “off the charts” (probably no less than three times in the first 40 minutes). The camera angles are just... weird in this scene. Every time he or Kennedy speaks, the camera is right in front of their faces. It really pulled me out of the limited dialogue they shared together (SANAA LATHAN IS SERIOUSLY UNDERUTILIZED IN THIS MOVIE GUYS) and was, honestly, annoying. I’d have been much happier with a wide shot of both of them talking so we really get a feel for their body language, especially Kennedy’s, around each other. Is Rapp at all able to trust what Kennedy is telling him? Is Kennedy still so sure that he’s what she has been looking for after their last conversation? Apparently she’s satisfied.

He’s sent to the super secret Orion Team training facility deep in the woods of Virginia, where we see rather little of Rapp’s training (probably because he’s so off the charts, obvs) and he’s almost immediately thrust into his first mission: a lot of plutonium has gone missing from Russia and they need to stop it from exchanging hands, so they head off to Istanbul, where shit goes exactly as you’d expect it to in a spy thriller which is, to say, not well at all. They lose an asset, lose Ghost (played by Taylor Kitsch) and Rapp, after ignoring Stan’s very, very direct order, winds up chased by very determined rottweilers outside of one of the bad guys’ hotels. (Ignoring orders isn’t necessarily out of character for Rapp, as he’s known as quite the renegade agent in the books, but when it matters he knows when he’s supposed to listen, so this was a little odd.) After what is, admittedly, a pretty fun fight scene involving hand to hand combat and some automatic weapons, Rapp takes out one of their two primary targets and they collect more information on where this weapons-grade plutonium may be heading. 

FAST FORWARD

It turns out Annika, played by Shiva Negar, is kind of/sort of a double agent, but not one that’s in the business of betrayal. She has her motives, and they’re very similar to Rapp’s. They’re driven by the same thing, and they shared some crazy chemistry, especially when she’s patching him up in a hotel room after Ghost intercepted them trying to surveil the physicist he lined up to build a bomb for the plutonium. I guess Rapp’s extreme paranoia pays off here, since he picks up on who she is because she, you guessed it, name dropped Ghost when she wasn’t supposed to know who he was at all.

Up to this point I’ve mostly been alright with what’s going on. The dialogue is clunky in places and I probably would have done another cut of the movie if it were me, to smooth out some transitions, but I am, at least, still entertained.

FAST FORWARD SOME MORE

Hurley, being the secretive idiot he is, winds up getting himself shot and captured by Ghost. (This is where I really kind of lose faith in this movie.) Ghost tortures Hurley. There are a few parts of it that are really graphic (pulling nails seems to be a popular method in spy books, I guess) but otherwise I just kind of waited for it to end. I think I would have packed more of a punch if the entirety of their history hadn’t been revealed to us while Ghost was torturing him. We know nothing about Ghost before this really pivotal scene between these two characters - outside of their shared history in the CIA of course - until Ghost is torturing Hurley for his perceived misdeeds. The movie would have benefitted a lot from having the groundwork for this laid out and built up throughout the first half.

I don’t think you’re supposed to laugh during a brutal scene like this, but right after Hurley bites part of Ghost’s ear off and fucking chews it with this goddamn deranged look on his face, I lost it. This is absurd. This specific moment has reached peak absurdity. Like what in this fuck. This scene is actually ridiculous. They had me up until that point. I do like the juxtaposition of Rapp’s and Ghost’s separate revenge plots. Ghost is an example of what happens when you let your revenge consume you, and by the end of the movie Rapp is what happens when you let that revenge drive you.

Eventually Rapp and Annika blow through the guards who are there, make sure Hurley is released from his chains and somehow winds up on a helicopter on the ocean outside of Rome, as he watches Rapp fight Ghost on a boat that somehow never manages to crash into anything despite neither of them being at the helm. You find out the ultimate target, but at this point, I’m still not really sold on exactly how high stakes this mission seems to be. Yes, there are lives at stake, but when terrorists (and that’s what Ghost is) have bombs, that’s generally always what’s at stake. 

I think that building up an audience investment in what’s at stake seems to fall by the wayside in favor of blowing more shit up. There’s kind of a half-hearted mention of what exactly the damage would be from a bomb of that size and magnitude, but that seems to be about it. I wanted to feel the suspense of Rapp getting that bomb out of the way of its target and into an area where it could safely detonate, but 

There is a nice, if brutal, full circle moment between Rapp and Ghost toward the end, but it was anticlimactic as FUCK. And then the movie ends, basically. I’m not spoiling the last ten minutes, except to let you know that there’s a total Bond Girl moment where Rapp walks out of the ocean where he’s presumably vacationing in the UAE and it’s pretty worth it getting to the end of the movie just for that.

Overall, the movie was just okay. I feel like it suffered from a lack of pacing and weird camera angle choices, clunky, repetitive dialogue, and a serious need for stronger groundwork. The writing is rather formulaic for these kinds of movies. Too many affirmatives, not enough reasons for me to care. If it’s true that Michael Keaton had a heavy hand in re-writes, they need to like.. not let that happen if another installment is forthcoming. Let the writers do their jobs. Last I checked, they were rather good at it.

Having said that, I’m glad it brought us Shiva Negar. I hope to see more of her, because when she was on screen she held my attention. I wanted more of Annika, but that seems to be true for me when it comes to the female characters in this movie. I seriously wanted more Kennedy. I love Kennedy. She’s by far my favorite character in the books, and I was so pleased when she was cast. Let’s give Kennedy more screen time, thanks. I thought Dylan was believable as the very broken, very dark Mitch Rapp. There are many scenes where he seems to be so incredibly lost to his grief that he stares at walls with zero expression on his face. I believe him as Rapp. I feel for him at moments, when he’s not being a disobedient dick. Dylan does a good job of bringing such a complex character to life, and if there’s more coming, I’m eager to see what he’ll do. I think this is a good stepping stone for him.

Hurley is a big fan of telling Rapp to never make the job personal, so I’m going to take Hurley’s advice and try not to take this movie personally. I checked and there’s an overall 6.8/10 rating on IMDb. That’s more accurate than I wanted it to be. I was really excited about this movie, but if you’ve seen the previews, well, you’ve basically seen the movie. If there are other installments in the franchise, they’ve got a lot of work to do.

[furederiko]

"Boy! I'll put my faith into your words." Kyuranger episode 29 heralds the arrival of the show's big bad, while delivering a fatal blow to its audience's heart...

- The goal of 'Save Naga' team has to be put on hold, because a much dire problem has arisen. As shown last week, the ORION spaceship has 'returned' to the present day as a wreck, an ancient wreck. It's been sitting there for 300+ years, and nothing inside it had seemingly changed. Even Horologium Kyu Globe is still stuck on its cockpit. - Leaving behind Balance and the others as they continue looking for a way to bring Naga (who gets a special day off) back into the light, Lucky heads out solo with the Leo Voyager to check on the 'Time Travel' team. I'd argue that they should've just form Kyuren-Oh and go all together, but Naga is equally a critical issue that needs to be taken care of right away. Otherwise Echidna would reach and eliminate him first. A Kyuranger without a core member like Naga can't actually be called Kyuranger, right? - Arriving 333 years prior in the past, Lucky is greeted by two things: his friends all unconscious on the ground, and a hostile-looking mysterious man in white. Unlike Lucky, audience should have met the latter last week. But this time we finally hear him introducing himself as... Orion, the Strongest Warrior of the Orion Constellation System. He's not being hostile to Lucky though, but to a Deathworm that jumps out behind him. The Deathworm then runs away after swallowing one part of Argo Kyu Globe's component. Before you think that this scene is not important, do remember how Puppis was found in the present day... Fun fact: In case your Math is a little worse than mine, 3 + 3 + 3 equals 9. So the 333 years time jump must be a fun little nod as well. Hmmm... who would've thought Puppis was hidden on the Deathworm's body that long? - Hahaha... OF COURSE Orion - who reveals he's on Earth having just placed Tsurugi in the cold sleep - doesn't easily believe anything that comes out of Lucky's mouth. It would be delusional nonsense to him. Particularly the part about Don Armage being alive in the present day, because the warrior had just witnessed his death not long ago. Trivia: Can't believe it took me 29 episodes to realize this stupidly obvious pun: Don Armage is an anagram for the word 'Armageddon'. How could I have missed that all these time? *smh* - Lucky's statements are immediately confirmed by Tsurugi, who (along with the others) conveniently comes to his senses. Not only Don Armage is still reigning to the present time, he was also the mysterious attacker than assaulted ORION and the 'Time Travel' team. His death in the final battle, was nothing more than Past-Tsurugi and Orion's false assumption. Yes, the 'Time Travel' did mess around with the flow of time by showing up there (which resulted to the ripple effect we saw last week), but they weren't exactly responsible for the Don's revival. He was never defeated to begin with! - The same with the Vice-Shoguns. Tecchu, Akyanba, and Kukuruga... all three shows up safe and sound to ambush the ORION, eventhough Past-Tsurugi and Orion believed they have defeated them before. I wonder if there's a hidden secret for this, then? Also, these are not the ones from present time. These look different, less monstery, so they must be the originals! Gotta admit, I really much prefer this more 'natural' plain look of them. Aside from Akyanba's horrendous chest piece, of course... - Hold on... if Raptor is able to fly ORION to a safer place, does that mean the past has just been changed again? I mean, geographically-speaking, now it shouldn't be in the spot where 'Save Naga' team found it before, right? That means, the 'Time Travel' team was meant to die at that moment, but Lucky stepped in and somehow messed up the rule of nature once again. Hmmm... this is why the logic of time travel tends to be... confusing to figure out. - Goodness grace, how I LOVE seeing Orion in action. Particularly that hexagonal 'Crystal Shield' that complements his 'Crystal Club' weapon nicely. His actor imbues him with this angry, brash, roughness, but also mature heroic aura, which feels different to the youngsters (including Commander Xiao, who acts like a teenager every now and then) of Rebellion. It all fits with the mythology of Orion being the 'Great Hunter', and the unpopular theory that he might actually be a disguise of Herakles! - His 'old-man' chemistry with Leo Red is fun as well, to the point Tsurugi is calling them as quite a combination" later on. And that might not be a coincidence. After a brief disagreement between Orion and Lucky, Tsurugi has a friendly heart to heart river-side talk with the former. Yes, we finally understand why Tsurugi had that 'sudden change of heart' during the Reds Rivalry episode: because Lucky somehow lit a fire inside him! That's right, proven over and over again, Lucky does serve as the motivator of the team... - Their conversation gets more interesting, because it leads towards... Orion's newborn child. While Orion makes a detour on Earth to deal with Tsurugi, his wife has taken the child to safety in her home world. Where? The... *drumrolls* Leo System? Yep. By comparing this to Lucky's un-lucky past, then this is pretty much a confirmation to my theory (as well as that latest spoilery rumor). If you ask me, he is most definitely Orion's son. But how is Lucky NOT 333 years old then? Let's see... perhaps time travel has anything to do with that? - By the way, Over-Time might have refered to Orion's child with a male pronoun 'HE' in their subtitle, but as far as I can tell, the dialogue NEVER explicitly stated the gender. Both Orion and Tsurugi only uses the word 'Kodomo' that vaguely means 'Child'. A most likely intentional choice, to keep the reveal a surprise, so that critical audience like yours truly don't catch the twist much earlier than it should be. However, there's also the possibility that Orion himself is still unaware of the gender. That makes sense since he hasn't returned home yet. - As for the disagreement, it's about Lucky's decision to change the past, by tracking Don Armage, and ending his threat right away, once and for all. Much like Pyxis, it seems Holorogium also has a limited energy, so it can only be used one more time to get the team back to the present time. That means the team isn't allowed to do other 'sidetrips'. Anyone can say and complain as much as they want about Lucky, about him being TOO optimist in this situation (Orion even calls him STUPID, clearly being a metaphor to some audience right now... *grins*). But even I have to admit, he has a really strong and logical point here. Waiting around to heal before taking down Don Armage, means giving him a chance to recover as well. In the end, the difference in power level between the two parties would only stay the same anyway. So why not just... go for broke, right? If they succeed, then the present universe will be rid off Armage's wrath. If they don't, they die a hero and things just continue the way it mostly was. - Looks like the other Kyurangers are also thinking the same thing. They won't abandon Lucky and letting him fight on his own anyway. It's an inspiring heroic moment, until Orion steals the show once more by lending his hand. He can even singlehandedly fend off Kukuruga's attack, the proof of being the strongest man from his star system. It seems a fire is lit inside him too, as he becomes convinced after hearing Lucky's rousing speech. Aaaaw... this is the part where I wish Orion has the ability to become a Kyuranger too. - Draco Commander summons Ryutei-Oh with Aquila Pink (LOL at that stylish wing commentary) and Dorado Yellow to deal with giant Tecchu; Scorpius Orange, Taurus Black, and Phoenix Soldier tag team to face Kukuruga; and Leo Red joins forces with Orion to defeat Akyanba. As their resolutions resonate with one another, the combination of Leo Red and Orion's power begins to... unify and form a NEW POWER. What a giant tease though, because the process is halted halfway before fully resulting anything. LOL. Fun fact: The episode itself is keeping this new power a mystery, but then an official Bandai commercial for said item was aired as soon as the episode ended. Someone from either Bandai nor TV Asahi didn't get the note, huh? LOL - Only Kukuruga is left, so giant Don Armage decides to show up and enter the battle himself. The Kyurangers send an "All Star Crash!" attack, and blast him away. But if Phoenix Soldier's attack didn't work the last time, will this one, with just 7 out of 12 members do much better? NOPE. Armage reveals his true form instead, and it's a no brainer! I mean... an ugly-looking brain-infested winged-skeletal alien creature, like one would expect from a B-level horror flick (or "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle". Kraang, anyone?). And he debuts with a chilling warning shot! A bullet of darkness that pierces through Lucky's gut, paralyzing him instantly. OH NO... yet another cliffhanger!

Overall: If I didn't know anything about Kyuranger, and you came to me saying "Old-man, episode 29 is the show's penultimate!", then I think I would've believed you. In older seasons with smaller scope and lesser quality (like... Ninninger, perhaps?), this episode COULD likely serve as one. The team was already facing the show's big bad, hence the intensity and stakes involved here DID feel like a climax. But we all know that's not the case, because there's still around 19-20 episodes after this. Yep, THAT MANY! Meaning there's still more coming ahead of us, eventhough this episode alone was already a beast to unpack. If there's one issue I had with this episode, it's the whole time travel paradox thingy. Thankfully, the action and general tension totally made up for it. And of course, that shocking cliffhanger too. Holy Moly indeed... Next week: Seeing White... PS: TV-Asahi began airing special announcement by Lucky and Sentou regarding the Super Hero Time's timeslot schedule change, that will come into effect October 1st, 2017. You can also catch it online. Meanwhile, a promotional video for "Kyuranger Bluray Collection Vol. 1" has also been released. The extra feature looks real fun! Dang it, if only I have an abundant extra money to purchase one... *sigh*. And that "Special Event" DVD too! Aaaawww... T_T

Episode 29 Score: 8,4 out of 10

Visit THIS LINK to view a continuously updated listing of the Kyutama / Kyu Globes. Last Updated: September 5th, 2017 - Version 2.13. (WARNING: It might contain spoilers for future episodes)

All images are screencaptured from the series, provided by the FanSubber Over-Time. "Uchu Sentai Kyuranger" is produced by TOEI, and airs every Sunday on TV-Asahi. Credits and copyrights belong to their respective owners.

[decepticon-r-sg-lorena]

The most likely reason why you're even involved with the Decepticons in the first place is probably due to Megatron or one of the others seeing you as a potential bargaining chip against the Autobots, whether you're familiar with them or not. Due to this, do not expect them to see you as anything near their equal anytime soon. You're just a squishy, disgusting vermin to them. But, depending on who Megatron deems to be your prison keeper, is how your fate might change.

It would seem that the Lord of Chaos himself has chosen to keep you as his pet. Unfortunately for you, it is highly unlikely that you will be treated well at all, so expect to lack consistent nutrition. He will at least keep you in somewhat of a private containment cell (probably a glass box/tube of some sort), most likely in his quarters or the medical bay or perhaps even a vault. He is unlikely to pay much (if any) attention to you, as he has many responsibilities to attend to, so either the Vehicons or Knockout will be attending to you. You're going to have a lot of time to yourself, any way you look at it. I will be completely honest: don't fall for this 'Con. He's manipulative, he's mean, and he will most definitely use you to his advantage. I pray that you don't get Stockholm Syndrome with him, either (or any of the Decepticons, in all honesty). He will probably withhold you as ransom until there is something that he truly wants from the Autobots - perhaps a relic, or something of similarly high value. It is unlikely that he will develop any sort of feelings towards you (that is, of course, unless you either admit to understanding the Decepticons' ways or have a similar personality to a certain Prime). Stay strong, and, eventually, things will change.

If the evil lord were to develop feelings for you, however...you're doomed to remain with him for the rest of your natural life, probably. (Or at least until the Autobots come to stage a rescue). He's possessive and manipulative, as stated before, and would utilize the fact that he's the only thing keeping you alive on the ship to his benefit. He'd pamper you, however, always making sure you're never in want of anything that he could easily acquire. He would have you remain with him at all times of the day, however, either in his chassis compartment or riding on his shoulder (unless he was going off-ship, in which case you would remain in his quarters until he returned). He would not allow any of the other Decepticons to touch you, much less interact with you (though most wouldn't want to anyway), and would force you to promise never to ever attempt an escape, lest he would punish you severely.

Over time, however, as the fact that you're his, you're there and you're not going anywhere would cement in his processor, his overbearing and oppressive demeanor would gradually fall away to reveal a mech that hadn't been heard from in eons. Megatron would reveal that even he, too, is capable of gentleness and care outside of the duties weighing down upon his shoulders. His voice would soften around you, his touches mindful of your human fragility. His optics would dim and his rigid and stiff posture would loosen into something more relaxed - noticeable, after initially having to realize the difference. He would share things with you, like what is was like in the gladiatorial pits of Kaon and reminiscing about old friends and rivals alike. He'd share his secret passion for poetry and prose with you, even reading some of his old pieces to you. (If you were to write him something in return, he would fall that much deeper into his desire and longing for you.) It would take him a very, very long time to open up about his past with Optimus. He would lay bare his inward turmoil, the hate and the betrayal that he still felt as strongly as he had the day he and Orion Pax approached the Council of Cybertron. He would realize, one day, with both shock and wordless wonder, that you were more important to him than he ever would've thought, could've anticipated. You were his anchor, his light, his calm in the storm. He would vow to himself, then, that he would not allow anyone or anything bring you harm. You are his, but even more than that - he is yours.

@megatron-necro

[mlynar-nearl]

Brothers

"The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children." -William Shakespeare

Or: There's a universe where the Adams 'bots escaped. Of course, the other shoe sometimes drops, when that happens.

Lifeline week day 7: FREEBIE! @vitadams , I DO THIS.

For my freebie, I definitely wanted to write something about the sibs. This is what ensued. And normally I tag quotes on before starting but I just have SO MANY to go with this piece the more I think on it.

CW for mental health issues- from most if not all of the Adams family.

What the child of Orion Has sown, his cubs will reap

[on ao3!]

The federal officers aren’t really sure what to do with the five robots recovered from ALT Yukon facility Alpha.

They separate them. Put them in individual rooms and run them through their paces on emotional tests, mental tests. They test as a human would.

The one who identifies himself as V. Adams seems more antsy than anything. ALT records show he was barely activated, young, and all he has is a dog who refuses to leave his side. They try to remove the dog once. It upsets him.

The one who identifies himself as I. Adams seems afraid of them. Afraid even more of ALT, but afraid of them as well. He doesn’t talk, and not just because of his lack of teeth. He’s not going to be a useful source

The one who identifies himself as II. Adams paces the floors, alternating between confidence in the situation and fear over periods of hours. When asked, he talks about his own problems that their creator identified, but seems to know very little about his brothers.

The one listed as III. Adams displays unchecked aggression towards anyone who tries to question him, and asks that he see the others before he decides to kill everyone there.

The last one, IV. Adams, is unnaturally calm, and asks that he be taken to their father. He is the only one to refer to Dr. Sibellius as their father, and the only one to have anything to say about ALT.

IV. Adams doesn’t seem to think of ALT as bad, despite the certainly illegal actions of his creator. This is a point which, when pressed, seems to be a subject of disagreement. II. Adams looks nervous. III. Adams snarls angrily. V. shifts in place. I. remains silent.

It’s hard, but how can they expect a series of barely a month in age to come to terms with their new reality?

It’s hard when they’re finally reunited. IV. Adams seems to take the role of an older brother despite being the second youngest in form, straightening out the appearances of the others and questioning them on their behavior. V. Adams and II. Adams seem to appreciate the affection, while I. Adams begrudgingly accepts it and III. Adams struggles like a child.

They talk softly for a while- the others seem to be trying to convince IV of something- before III stands up and paces angrily as V tries to diffuse the tension. V’s dog licks his hand.

Whatever the problem is, they seem to settle on something then.

When they’re sent away to a government safe house, V. Adams asks that they go together.

-

The first thing Adams hears when he wakes up is the sound of someone being loud in the kitchen.

He rolls out of his twin bed, causing Blue to jump down and follow him downstairs, to where IV. Adams is sitting on the counter, hands gripping the edge of granite countertop, white.

There’s a plate on the floor. Shattered.

“Sit, Blue,” Adams says at the entrance to the kitchen, making an accompanying hand gesture. Blue sits.

Adams starts to pick up the pieces of the plate.

“What’s wrong, Four?”

IV. Adams pauses, breathing quietly.

“He loved us.”

Adams pauses, holding pieces of porcelain in his hands.

“Did he.”

“I don’t understand, Five.”

“I know.”

“He would talk to me. When I was stored in the mainframe.”

“He...did?”

“He played chess with me.”

“Did you win?"

“Once or twice.”

“Did he talk?”

“Occasionally.”

“About what?”

“I- I don’t know, Five, mundane stuff. He asked me sometimes if he should fire certain workers. Give me the context for their transgression and ask my analysis.”

“Four,” Adams says gently, putting some pieces in the trash can. “That’s attention. Not love.”

“He said he did.”

“What do his words mean? He was willing to kill us-”

“He didn’t want to-”

“Four,” Adams says softly, with a deep sigh, before approaching his brother. “He never cared. He just wanted you to think that he did. Think about what he was planning. He was about to, uh...what was it called?”

“Activate the Tersus Protocol. I could have talked him down, he regretted it, I could have-”

“You’re speculating,” Adams interrupts. “Bad argument.”

Four sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Five…”

“He was going to activate that Tersus thingy and kill us. And even before, he just built us to keep him alive.”

“He’s our father, Five. He must have wanted something good for us.”

“Four,” Adams says gently. “Even for humans, that’s not true.”

He cleans up the last of the plate.

“Okay, Blue, come on in.”

Adams sits down on the floor, and Blue lays his head on Adams’ lap.

“There was something good inside of him, Five. You just...never got to see it.”

“And you think you could have brought it out?”

“I wanted to. He was brilliant.”

“Four, you understand we can’t go back to him.”

“Yes, yes. The agents would stop us. And he’s on his deathbed, anyway. But what are we, brother, if not echoes of him. Of his genius. We’re his children.”

Adams shifts. “I would rather just be me.”

“I will never understand you, Five.”

“Give it time. Give it space. Do you want breakfast?”

“Not right now,” IV. Adams replies quietly. Adams nods, standing up.

“Okay. You can stay.”

“I would like to.”

“Go ahead. You should teach me how to play chess.”

“You should already know. He did.”

“Yeah, because I should know doesn’t mean I do. Besides, you’re supposed to be my brother. Make good on that and teach me some tricks. One is already teaching me sign language, Two’s into writing, Three’s learning krav maga and I like to cook. You could use a hobby.”

“Maybe something less personal,” Four muses.

“Scrapbooking?”

“Comedic as always, Five. Maybe art. I don’t think he knew how to draw. He certainly didn’t know how to cook. Not like you.”

“Flattered. Art sounds like a good idea, you know? Watercolors are supposed to be therapeutic, I’m told.”

“Five.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Like we told you when we got out. In this together. That’s what brothers are for, right?”

“Yes, Five. That’s what family is for.”

[theradioghost]

so @vfdbeatrice is inexpressibly talented (at breaking my heart) and came up with the most amazing AU?? part one, probably

It’s not that Nureyev doesn’t understand how he was found. He hasn’t changed his patterns, his habits, because as far as he is concerned, Juno had made it abundantly clear that he would not be looking for him. So why bother? After all, Juno Steel is the only person in the galaxy left alive who had learned enough in those months on Mars to track him down.

Nothing else has changed. It had almost been enough to let him pretend that he hasn’t changed, either. Back to the old ways; skipping from planet to planet, stopping just long enough to rifle through a pocket, to slip into a locked case, to wine and dine, then smash and grab. New names, new minds, and if these ones were plastered over a new kind of tiredness, then only he noticed, and he tried his very hardest not to. And he is very, very good at making himself disappear.

And yet, here is the proof, inescapable as it could possibly be: Juno Steel, standing in the doorway of Nureyev’s hotel room, soaked to the skin, looking about as pleased to be there as Nureyev is to see him. Juno Steel – not, as Nureyev has believed he would always remain, on dry, icy Mars, in that city he belonged to more than he’d ever belonged to Nureyev, but here on stormy, tropical Laocoon, deep within the inner reaches of the Orion Arm. Here, again, within arm’s reach. And that name on his lips (only his; never mine; never mine again. Let him have it, him and Brahma. For one a curse, for the other – well, maybe the same. Maybe a souvenir. It wasn’t Nureyev’s concern).

He doesn’t look good. He looks thin, haggard. He wears a glass eye now, which surprises Nureyev; from Juno, he almost would have expected the drama of an eyepatch, though evidently he’d been ostentatious enough to choose one of a color conspicuously paler than the dark brown, near-black, of his own eye. It doesn’t make him look any less eerie, less half-dead-on-his-feet, less like a ghost.

He breaks the silence. “Nureyev.”

Nureyev is not in the mood. (He is. He wants to be. He doesn’t know what he wants. This is a new experience for him.) “If you like.”

Juno moves a little – impatient? Anxious? Unsure? “Listen, I need to…” He lets out a breath. “There’s something I need to tell you. That’s why I’m here.”

Conflicting emotions, says the part of Nureyev’s mind that takes over when things go wrong, that goes smooth and composed and finds a way out. Fear. Excitement (either could be what is pushing his heart rate through the roof). Anguish (the memory of waking, of the silence in that room). And a cold anger, which, unlike the others, he can use.

“I’m afraid it’s not going to be quite that simple, Steel,” he says, turning away, moving further into the room, away from Juno.

Nureyev can feel Juno hesitating, uncertain, behind him. “Nureyev –”

“No, I still want to hear it,” Nureyev says, cutting him off. “Go on. Grovel. Do your best to explain what you did. I want to hear what you have to say.”

There’s a long silence. Too long. And then he says, “Nureyev, I –”

His voice chokes, and he stops for a moment. Nureyev waits. And then Juno says something that really, truly does surprise him.

“That’s not why I came.”

The cold feeling washes over him.

“Of course.” Nureyev’s voice comes out sharp, tight, with knives in it. He can make himself turn around now, look at Juno impassively, coolly. If this isn’t an affair of love, then it’s work. And Nureyev is nothing if not good at compartmentalizing. “Well, then, I think you’d better get down to business, and tell me why. It must be quite something, to have brought you all the way out here.”

Juno takes a deep breath, and his whole body shakes. (That body, pressed against mine in Miasma’s cells, in the Triad’s back rooms, in his apartment, in that hotel, shaking underneath me–)

“Someone recognized you,” he says.

Bad news. The worst news, Nureyev once would have thought. “How?”

“The Kanagawa streams.” Juno, too, is brisk now, speaking in clipped tones. “Some doc that made its way to the Outer Rim, months late, about Cassie’s arrest. They saw you, and they knew who you were. Your name, your real name.”

The Outer Rim. “Brahma?”

“No.” His voice falters again, and something flickers over his face that is too quick for Nureyev to place – anger? Pain? He never did quite puzzle out the mystery of Juno Steel, and he can’t decipher him now. “No, it’s – surprisingly, no. No. Nova Alexandria.”

“That’s a trading hub. Anyone there could be from anywhere. It doesn’t tell me who’s looking for me.” Nureyev pauses. “How do you know about this? If they were putting it about that an AWOL Dark Matters agent was Brahma’s most wanted, I’d have heard.”

“No,” Juno repeats (I wish, just once, he would give me a yes, and mean it). His voice drops, and finally, he takes another shaky step into the room. The door shuts on the outside world, and it’s just the two of them, alone. “They came to me to ask who you were. Since I was with you in the video. It’s a lot easier to track me down, I guess.”

The pieces begin to fall into place, though they’re hardly landing in a pattern that quiets the maelstrom inside of Nureyev. Of course. How very like Juno. Whatever his feelings about Nureyev, when he became involved, he felt compelled to come and tell the thief that his anonymity was threatened.

At least that means he doesn’t hate me.

But why leave, then? The response to himself, acidic. If his feelings amount to concern, but not love, why not say something?

“I hope you were careful,” Nureyev says, affecting nonchalance, pretending not to be thrown by him. “Your coming to warn me doesn’t do me much good if you were followed here.”

“They didn’t follow me,” Juno says.

“You sound very certain.”

“She didn’t just ask questions,” Juno says, and Nureyev noted the change in pronouns – they could have been an individual, but also could have been a group, a corporation, a government, a deliberately distancing choice. But she had to be a someone. “She hired me to find you.”

“Of course. You’re the only person in the galaxy who could. You took the job to distract her?”

Silence again. An eternity of silence.

“Nureyev,” Juno says, “I felt I owed it to you. After what –”

“After what you did, you made it perfectly clear that there are no debts between us, Juno.” He can’t deal with it anymore, not with this. “I gave you the offer, didn’t I? If you wanted, we parted ways. No questions asked, no return policy, no looking back. And you made it eminently clear what you wanted, in the most – well, the most you possible fashion, didn’t you?”

Juno flinches at these words, putting a blaze of sick satisfaction in Nureyev’s heart, as well as a knife of regret.

Then something snaps.

Steel crosses the room in a heartbeat, ending only inches away from Nureyev, anger burning in his remaining true eye. “Damn it, Nureyev, do you think I want this? Do you think I – ” His voice breaks, and he swallows. “I can’t do that right now, Nureyev. Maybe that’s a conversation we’re gonna have to have now. Maybe it was always gonna happen. Maybe we’re just meant to keep circling this stupid event horizon until one or both of us falls in. Maybe it’s fate. Maybe it’s karma, making me pay up for what I did to you, because I’m not going to pretend that that was – that I don’t – shit, I don’t care what it is anymore. But yeah, I felt like I owed this to you, because whether either of us likes it or not, this got dumped into my hands, and I’m the only person who can do anything about it. I’m the only person who can give you this chance.”

He swallows, and Nureyev can almost feel the air move around his throat. They are close, too close, and Juno must know it, but he doesn’t move away.

“For anyone else,” he says, “I would have done what you said. Taken the job, spun some lies.”

“Good to know I mean so much to you.”

“Not anyone but you,” he says. “Anyone but her.”

“Who is she, then? This mysterious client for whom you’ll go so above and beyond?” The words are bitter, maybe even jealous, but it isn’t as though Nureyev cares at this point. He doesn’t care if he hurts Juno, if Juno has betrayed him, if it ends here.

Juno goes still, and then, finally, he pulls away, just a few inches. “Nureyev,” he says, “I think she’s your sister.”

[brokenwandsrpg]

Welcome to Broken Wands Roleplay, Millie! The way you’ve twisted what one expects out of Sirius to suit these circumstances is delightful and we can’t wait to see you balance this in play. Check out this page for what to do next and let us know if you have any questions. We’re excited to have you join us!

OOC INFORMATION:

NAME & PRONOUNS: Millie, she/they

AGE: 24

LANGUAGE: English

EXPERIENCE: rjloopin and siriusdadfoot

ACTIVITY LEVEL: Checking everyday and hoping to post every day, at least until uni starts up in Feb

ANYTHING ELSE YOU WANT TO TELL US: If I could get rape and excessive gore put under triggers to tag, that’d be awesome!

DESIRED CHANGES:

About the character? The only thing I’d mention re: his bio is the implication that he hasn’t gone back to Regulus since he left his own foster home. I think he’d absolutely be checking in with Regulus, as well as acquiring him illegal magical goods. [Absolutely!]

About the world-building? none

About the game? none

Alternative faceclaim? The only other fc I really had in mind was a baby-faced Ezra Miller? Like pre-2013, no-beard stuff. Other than that, Jamie Blackley is the only other face that comes to mind. [Either of those gents works just fine for us, so just let us know which you would prefer!]

CHARACTER BASICS:

NAME: Sirius Orion Black, William Blake (main muggle alias, his name in the muggle foster care system and the name he uses when speaking with other wix), no nicknames

BIRTHDATE/AGE: 3rd November 1959

BLOOD-STATUS: Pure-blood, of course. In another time and place that might mean something to Sirius, good or bad, but now it’s just a footnote in his profile. He knows that the muggles don’t care about how pure his blood is; they only care that it’s wix blood.

GENDER & SEXUALITY: Queerer than a three dollar bill, not that he has time for any of that at the moment. He very quickly realised that this was not acceptable in the muggle world and so it’s just one more thing to hide.

WAND/ETC: Sirius has a wand because he just likes the feeling of having one. He acquired it through some less-than-legal errands, making it a hard won possession. He knows that he can’t afford to become attached to it though; if push comes to shove and he comes up against muggle authorities, he’ll throw it away in a heartbeat. The wand is 11", beech wood, dragon heartstring, slightly springy. It is a simple wand with the only decoration a silver band near to the top. He also carries a pocket knife with him at all times and has a bag/satchel that he uses to transport goods.

APPEARANCE: Dark locks, grey eyes, high cheekbones, and that aristocratic beauty passed down through the family makes Sirius very good looking. Well, when he manages to take a shower and wear clean clothes. His appearance is diminished somewhat due to the lack of stable accommodation and the niceties that accompany that such as soap and shampoo. He’s 5'9 and doesn’t expect to grow any taller. Sirius did take to muggle clothes rather easily, which is lucky considering that’s all he can wear nowadays. His clothes come from wherever he can find or steal them, which means that most of the time, they’re old or shabby looking. He wears very simple muggle clothes, not wanting to draw any attention to himself. He has a black coat that helps to hide him/his face when he’s on the move.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

FAMILY: Regulus Black [Brother]  -  Sirius feels responsible for his little brother and wants to get him out of his situation, but not as much as he wants Regulus to be safe. This fierce protectiveness and sense of responsibility doesn’t make Regulus any less a young brother, however. He still irritates Sirius and makes him want to tear his hair out sometimes. He placates Regulus by bringing him illegal magical goods that he works/trades for. Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa Black [Cousins]  -  Sirius spent years believing that his cousins had been murdered along with their parents, until he heard news about Bellatrix from the muggles. Now he wants to find her and see if his other cousins survived as well.

ASSOCIATES: Vihaan Rosier [Contact]  -  Sirius remembered seeing Vihaan from before everything went to hell and immediately registered him as a wix. He offered his services in return for information on the status of the magical world, which led to more contacts and jobs for Sirius. He’s run more than one job for Vihaan but has never told the man who he really is; he knows that identity is key these days and doesn’t want to put all his eggs in one basket. He’s been wondering how to inquire after his cousins’ whereabouts without cluing Vihaan in to his identity.

LIFESTYLE: Sirius likes to think that he’s “between homes” at the moment. The truth is that he’s been living on the street and he’s been doing it for a while now. He sleeps on benches and in alcoves, does jobs for food and steals it when that’s not an option. He has made use of muggle homeless shelters more than once when the weather has been too cold to sleep outside, or when he’s found it too difficult to find food. He doesn’t like staying anywhere with too many muggles though as it makes him nervous and/or angry and that usually doesn’t end well. There have been difficult nights, or nights more difficult than usual, but he stubbornly refuses to consider going back to the muggles for help. He’s doing just fine on his own.

PERSONALITY: Despite his parents’ attempts to teach him good manners and easy temperance, Sirius was always a SURLY child. Nothing was easy and there was always something to be grumpy about. The destruction of everything he knew and being flung into the muggle world only made this worse. He might have grown out of it eventually but the upset made him BITTER and he’s determined to hate muggles and everything they do forever. And if this attitude bleeds into his dealings with non-muggles, who could blame him? It’s a pity then, that Sirius can’t always control his temper. He’s very PASSIONATE about the things that he loves or enjoys but this means he can veer towards the over dramatic at times, especially when emotions for a situation are already high. This is generally the time that Sirius will make a mistake, perhaps by lashing out or running his mouth off. It’s not all bad though; this characteristic makes Sirius very LOYAL when he believes he’s found someone worth being loyal to. It’s not an easy position to fill and currently only Regulus checks enough boxes but the right kind of friend would easily inspire dying loyalty from Sirius. Only CUNNING and RESOURCEFULNESS have allowed Sirius to remain alive and free as long as he has. He wasn’t born resourceful and he certainly didn’t learn it in his younger years in the Black household. That came rapidly when he found his world turned upside down by the attack on the wizarding world. Flung into uncertainty and determined to protect his younger brother, Sirius learned to use what he had to get what he wanted. He’s always been intelligent, though perhaps he didn’t exhibit this trait through arithmacy or a understanding of ancient runes, Sirius has always had a calculating mind. This isn’t always a good thing though. Sirius is quite clever. When this is added to his passionate nature it can often result in a desire to hurt people, even if only verbally, making him quite CRUEL. He likes to think he gets this from his mother, whose usual approach to anything was to be loud and cruel. He can do this unthinkingly, such as in the middle of a heated argument, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t make targeted comments either and those are the ones that he really means to hurt with.

SKILLS: Sirius is a practised LIAR. He’s had to be to get by in life. He lied as a child but has made a real past-time of it as a teenager. He’s good at talking himself out of trouble and sometimes even into good graces. Sirius is also QUICK and good at HIDING, both himself and objects. This helps him keep contraband safe when he’s smuggling them, or when he needs to avoid muggle authorities. Due to a lack of magic to help him, he’s also become quite adept at PHYSICAL FIGHTS, mostly through a series of fights that went badly, requiring him to learn how to throw a punch properly. Sirius cannot perform any advanced MAGIC as he never went to school and had no one to teach him after the age of six. He also has trouble FITTING IN amongst crowds of muggles, often requiring him to lie on the spot about why his behaviour didn’t fit a given situation. His SURLY nature can result in making him unapproachable or irritate people, which makes them harder to manipulate. Sirius’ movement and means are LIMITED due to his situation and he constantly struggles to overcome these in order to get things done.

HISTORY: Early childhood was perfectly fine for Sirius. Until the age of six, he was a pampered first born son who couldn’t wait to go to Hogwarts and learn magic. When magical London was attacked, Sirius didn’t even wait for his father’s body to hit the ground before he was grabbing his brother’s hand and running as fast as he could away from the advancing muggles. Sirius was determined to keep them safe and far away from witch hunters, which he didn’t too badly considering how young and friendless they were. Their eventual discovery was inevitable though and they were soon found by a muggle social worker. Sirius made up a lie on the spot; he felt no shame at pretending to be muggles, even though he knew his parents would have been appalled. The muggle bought the lie and they were taken into custody. Sirius was already a handful so when Regulus was placed in a foster home first and without him, Sirius’ mood only grew darker. He went through several foster homes, leaving each one with the same string of complaints, until eventually he couldn’t handle it anymore. He packed up what little he owned and left, promising Regulus that he’d come back and get him as soon as he could. That proved to be a little more difficult than he’d first imagined; he ended up living on the street and he realised it was far too dangerous a world to drag Regulus around in. He found it preferable to living in a muggle house but that didn’t mean he wanted to put Regulus in danger. He haunted old magical places around London, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone who might be able to help, meanwhile learning the streets of London and how best to avoid the people he didn’t want to see. He came across Vihaan Rosier, who gave him access to the outskirts of the remaining magical world, which Sirius eventually delved deeper into. He quietly made himself known as the boy who could get you things, who could get your messages there and back safely, and eventually he started to pick up information and secrets as well.

GOALS: Survival is the ultimate goal for Sirius, his and Regulus’. Everything he does is towards that end. After that, he’d really like to get Regulus out of the muggle house but he knows that he needs a better alternative than living on the streets before he can do that. He’d like to find his cousins, because he thinks that they might be able to be help with that since they seem to have stayed out of muggle reach all this time. He would like to learn some real, useful magic and have access to a wand that he can hide, in case he’s approached by muggle authorities. Changing his situation would also be something Sirius wants to work towards, though he has no idea how to achieve that.

WHERE ARE THEY NOW AND WHERE ARE THEY GOING?

PLANS: This is a world where Sirius and Regulus weren’t separated by houses or wizarding ideals. Here, they’re separated by muggles; something they feel similarly about. I can’t wait to explore a dynamic between the brothers that wasn’t damaged by all their canon issues. They’re still bound to clash, given their personalities, but it would be interesting to see them work together towards common goals, as well as to have Sirius feeling very protective and brotherly towards Regulus, which you almost never get in RP cause generally even in AUs they had that period at/an equivalent to Hogwarts and Sirius running away. Regulus is the most important thing in Sirius’ world, apart from his own survival, so he’s going to want to get Regulus out of the muggle house as soon as possible, but he also doesn’t want to put Regulus in danger. There’s no marauders, and I believe that alters Sirius drastically. There are still certain canon things that were clearly set in motion from his childhood (e.g. the traits that landed him in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin) but in this universe he hasn’t grown up with these friends who enabled, complemented, and sometimes probably mellowed him out to a degree. Without that influence you have Sirius’ raw personality which I think would be far more like his family than canon Sirius would like. Which begs the question; will Sirius and James still kick it off in this AU? Would Sirius still want to be friends with a werewolf? Or is this Sirius more likely to gravitate towards people like his cousins? I don’t know but dang I’m excited to find out. Sirius is said in canon to be very good at wandless spells. I’m wondering if that would help him in this universe, since he wouldn’t have had any way to learn magic/spells while he was growing up. He only would have known spells that people used around him and I kind of like the idea of Sirius teaching himself to use a (very basic) wandless alohamora to get into something all sneaky-like. He could have spent a super long time teaching himself one spell or something. Totally admin’s discretion on this one though, since he never had a chance to actually study the magic and wandless magic is waaaay hard. I’m all about uncontrollable magical accidents though! Since they tend to happen when angry/as self-defence, there’s no way Sirius is going to be able to avoid getting himself into trouble. He has zero chill. [I love the idea of him trying to basically channel wandless accidents on purpose; that sounds like a recipe for delightful mishaps and madness! Go for it!] I love, love, love Sirius being a little magic smuggler. This has SO much potential for all sorts of goodies. He absolutely hears about Bellatrix through one of his “contacts” and realises that she’s alive, prompting him to keep trading favours to see if he can find where she is. I maintain that he probably wouldn’t get a wand just yet but he could definitely be getting more familiar with magic, not to mention all the information he’s carrying around.

INTEREST: Anything that takes characters and throws them into uncharted waters is my jam. And it’s rarer to have a universe where Sirius doesn’t have the safety net of the marauders, or where he’s more likely to be aligned with Regulus/his cousins.

OPTIONAL WRITING SAMPLE:

Sirius slid through the shadows and up to the door. There was only a single street lamp lit up, far down the other end of the street, which meant that he could easily move through the night without being seen. His black coat and black hair also helped to obscure his figure and face, allowing him to blend into the shadows more readily. The house he had stepped up to was sandwiched between two slightly larger buildings and looked completely unassuming. There was nothing to suggest that it was special, or any different to the houses surrounding it.

Tap, tap, tap. A few light raps of his knuckles on the wooden door and then Sirius waited.

The door creaked open just an inch and a woman’s face peeked out from behind it. “Yes?” She asked, looking around the door. She stopped when she saw Sirius, the light from inside casting a light on him where the door allowed the light through. “Oh, it’s you.” The door closed and Sirius could hear the sound of a chain being moved, then a large lock being turned. The door opened again a moment later, wider this time, and the woman beckoned him inside. Sirius slipped inside quickly and the door shut behind him.

“Did you bring it?” The woman asked, before Sirius could even turn around to face her. He frowned at her but pulled his bag off his shoulder and down to the floor, opening it up to reveal quite a few muggle drink bottles, each with a label stuck to the top. Sirius reached into the bag, pulled out the bottle labelled DOP, and handed it to the woman. “Is this a – drink bottle?” She asked, eyeing the drink bottle skeptically.

“It’s a new thing I’m trying,” Sirius told her as he closed his bag up and got back on his feet. “Easier than carrying around glass vials. It’s still got a Draught of Peace in it; have a look.”

She screwed off the lid and took a whiff, immediately relaxing at the smell. She twisted the lid back on and hugged the bottle to her chest. “Thank you,” she said.

Sirius blinked at her and then held out his hand expectantly. The woman’s face lit up in realisation and she quickly dug her hand into her pocket, pulling out a few galleons that she dropped into his waiting hand. He stared at them as he thought about how useless they were in the world at large. The potioneer that he was running deliveries for tonight accepted payment in both wizarding money and muggle money but Sirius still couldn’t fathom it.

“You’re welcome,” he found himself saying. The woman’s face softened into a smile and so Sirius asked, “Any news?”

She shrugged helplessly. “Only more of the same. Oh, there was another attack, on the muggles, last week. The authorities are looking for that girl, Belle? No, that’s not it. It’s not a muggle name and they’ve blamed her for a few of these attacks now. Bellatrix? That might be it.”

Sirius’ breath caught in his throat. The woman was still talking; she had moved on to other news now, but Sirius was still stuck on the name. Bellatrix... It couldn’t be, could it? In all this time, Sirius had never once heard mention of any of his cousins. He’d thought they’d all been killed along with his aunt and uncle, but it sounded as if Bellatrix at least might alive, and very active by the sounds of things. The possibility shook him. He and Regulus might still have living family, apart from one another.

The woman had stopped talking now and was looking Sirius over with some concern, not entirely unwarranted given that he was staring blankly off into space until her voice interrupted his thoughts. “Are you alright?” She asked.

“I have to go,” Sirius said, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “Lots to deliver. Enjoy the potion.”

She waved goodbye to him bemusedly as he made his way to the door. He opened it slightly and peeked out just long enough to check that there was no one in the street before slipping through and disappearing into the night.