#a second plane has hit the lighthouse

[mlkshakehotdogs]

2K was so brave for making a game starting w/ the protagonist hijacking a plane like 6 years after 9/11

[cockdestroyer32]

all mine

tangerine x fem!reader

word count: 2304

summary: after the events in the bullet train in tokyo, you and ladybug have a new job in a new place, unfortunately, you're not alone.

a/n: okay so in this reader's codename is sarin. and you're besties w ladybug bc I lov him. title is from brent faiyaz's 'all mine' which has nothing to do with this fic but I didn't know what to name this and I rlly love that song so. also no smut in this.

When I grow up, I wanna be famous I wanna be a star, I wanna be in movies, when I grow up I wanna see the world, drive nice cars, I wanna have groupies.

The song blew out of the car’s speakers, and both you and Ladybug sang each word perfectly (and very obnoxiously, you were practically yelling out the lyrics.) He drove and you sat in the passenger seat, you both swinging your arms around dancing tirelessly as the citizens of Greece who were able to spy inside the moving car judged your shameless partying. You hadn’t seen Ladybug in months, so when you found out you were finally going to be assigned to a mission together again, you both beamed, and got together to plan your entire trip from the cities of New York to the city of Larissa. You went from cackling a little too loudly at comedy movies on the plane, to endless chatter at the airport, to listening to your iconic super duper awesome 2000s hits playlist on a rented Jeep (the playlist title was Ladybug’s decision.) There’s no one you’d rather work with. Except…you weren’t working alone tonight. 

This hit wasn’t just any hit, it was a stakeout. So, Lemon and Tangerine were called. 

You had walked into Tangerine a few times before; New Zealand, Cuba, Romania, and Tokyo, of course. You’d been the longest with him while in Tokyo, when you had to team up because of a lost briefcase. He was incredibly irritating and the different ways you both did your job clashed immensely, but by the end of the night you two had worked frustratingly well together. 

You’d never met Lemon before though, you hoped to God he wasn’t just a Tangerine 2. 

“Oh, boo!” Ladybug starts and you join him when you look up.

“Booo!” You yell out at the warehouse as if it’s just told some awful joke at a stand-up show.

The building has the same architectural creativity as a cardboard box. Except that instead of brown, it’s grey and dirty, and instead of holding a gift you just spent the last days waiting anxiously to arrive at your home, it just holds the next gruesome hours you’ll spend planning your hit.

You and Ladybug allow The Pussycat Dolls to finish the last few seconds of their song and turn off BlueTooth before you can be sad about not singing Britney.

You sigh and say, “It’s gonna be a long night.”

“Yep, but the sooner we do it sooner we’re done. Come on, let’s meet the fruit duet.” You chuckle.

The warehouse acted as a lighthouse, the nighttime a sea of nothingness. You can spot the remnants of the trucks that passed by in this area marked in the muddy ground. Tonight smells of wet grass and fancy dinner parties, the ones you should be in right now.

You enter the warehouse, the night’s cold air vanishes and it shifts to a warm, still atmosphere. You take off your coat. Tangerine and two other men are already in the room. Even at such a dead spot in town, Tangerine is still dressed elegantly, sporting a blue striped suit that fitted him perfectly, and smelling of rich men’s perfume. You often wondered if he could fight in those suits. Although you loved a good luxurious suit—God knows your blood money could buy one, your closet was full of Versace, Vivienne Westwood, Dolce & Gabbana and Burberry—you preferred to wear more tactical outfits for the job, you know, in case someone fucked something up and everything went to shit.

“That’s Lemon, by the way.” Ladybug whispers to you, while pointing his head to the man standing in front of Tangerine.

“What? I thought they were supposed to be twins,” Ladybug shrugs.

“Um, I hope we’re not late…you’re Lemon I suppose?” You pretend like Ladybug didn’t just tell you and offer a handshake. He takes it.

“That’s right, and you’re...”

“Sarin.”

You look over to his brother.

“Tangerine.” A nod, no handshake.

“Sarin.”

“You’ve met Ladybug.” You say to the two brothers.

“Yes, we had the pleasure.” The taller man doesn’t hide the sarcasm.

“Accommodating as always, Tangerine.”

“So, shall we?” Says the other man in the room, the one who was managing this whole thing, and you all follow him.

He takes you to a desk where there lie multiple files on different workers and a big map layout of the warehouse. The man shows all of you the place, discussing what approach the team should take for the mission, at what time each one should arrive at the building, the shift times of each warehouse worker, the spots each one should be in…and so on and so forth. Time passes relatively quickly, demanding you and Ladybug a secret high-five, and you all turn to look at the man who’d organized this.

“Yeah. That’s it.” The man repeats.

“Yeah.” You agree, still looking at him.

“You can go home now.” He practically demands.

“Uhh, I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to get paid now,” Lemon adds.

“You’ll get paid after you get the job done.”

“Did you not get the memo lad? We get first half now and second half after the job is done.” Tangerine said.

“Yeah, we’re supposed to get paid now, didn’t our handler message you?” You asked honestly.

“Well I didn’t bring the money, so what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, but we’re getting paid.” Tangerine insisted.

“There are lots of ATMs in Larissa…” Ladybug spoke. The man mutters some curse word under his breath,

“Fine. I’ll get you your fucking money, but you’re gonna have to wait.” He disappears from sight, making his way up the stairs in the corner of the building.

“Damn, what a Gordon.” Lemon remarks.

“Thomas the Tank Engine?” You ask.

“Yeah.”

“Nah, I think he’s more of a James, just super cocky.”

“Oh my God, there’s two of them.” Tangerine sighs.

“I’m gonna go get some air.” You say.

With your coat in hand, you make your way to a backdoor on the side of the warehouse. Slipping the garment on as soon as you open it, the chilly air cutting through your skin. You slide your hand into one of the coat pockets, finding a small rectangular box and a smooth metallic item. You fish one of the cigarettes out of the box and light it, inhaling the nicotine, warming your body while letting yourself freeze in the moment. You were so far out of town that you couldn’t hear any of the cars, any of the people in Larissa, your team also seemed to be particularly quiet inside the building. Here, it was silent, save for crickets chirping in the vast nothingness that was the field at nighttime. Tomorrow it’d be full of people, receiving and delivering new packages, trucks coming and going and workers arguing amongst each other, all their chatter overlapping, sounds of life, until you all arrive and the sounds of an active workplace morph into that of an action movie, slashing and yelling (no guns, this was supposed to be a somewhat subtle and more practical job) and then, nothing. The building once again ghost quiet, but this time painted red. 

It didn’t bother you. You’d been in this business for way too long to be perturbed by the sounds of the dead now. You knew what you were getting yourself into from the beginning, this is no bombshell. Although the still of a city that’s beginning to fall asleep is much better than one that had its commotion ripped away from it. So you took these quiet moments you had to yourself and held them tightly in your hand, like some old trinket gifted to you by someone special. And for a few moments, as you exhaled the smoke out of your body, you felt outside of space and time, frozen in the moment, your feet planted on the ground, scared that if you move even an inch, you’ll fall off the face of the earth. You melt off the moment when you feel a pair of eyes on you.

Tangerine stands by the back door on your right, looking at you. You’re not sure how long he’s been there, but he has a calm look on his face, a smile on his eyes but not on his lips, by far much different than all of the ticked-off facial expressions you’d seen on him before.

“The fuck are you looking at?” You tease.

“Geez. I’ve just come to get some air.” He walks in your direction. You offer him your cigarette, he takes it. You two breathe together for a while before you ask,

“Do you like this?”

“What? Jobs in the middle of nowhere handled by some fucking dickhead who can’t even pay us right?”

“No. This.” You look around, motioning slightly to your surroundings, “The quiet. We don’t get a lot of it in our job.”

“I suppose we don’t,” He passes the cigarette back to you. “It is kinda nice, I can hear my thoughts for once, don’t have to listen to Lemon yapping about.”

You snort. “He’s nice. I was scared he was gonna be like you.”

“What? I’m nice.”

You stare at him.

“How am I not nice?” He continues.

“How are you not nice? Okay let’s see, you’re impatient, you’re always irritated, you look like you’re constantly on the edge of throwing a fit, you’re always cursing people out and you always got that look on your face of a teen girl who just got her phone taken away by her parents.”

He takes this in for a second, surprised at the speed of your answer, as if you’d been waiting for this moment for a while, and maybe you were.

“Hm…still think I’m nice.” He adds, you smile to yourself, nodding your head in fake disbelief.

You can feel his eyes on you, even as you take another puff on your cigarette and stare at the darkness. You don’t look back, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“S, Fruit, guy’s back.” Ladybug pops out of the door, and you follow him back into the building, followed then by Tangerine. 

The man now holds bags of money, one for you and Ladybug, and one for Lemon and Tangerine. You finally leave the warehouse, each of you making your way to your hotel rooms. And you would’ve been able to wash the night off your body and rest on the hotel’s comfy bed, if it wasn’t for the misplaced amounts of money. See, your bag and Ladybug’s held only his share, not yours. Thankfully, it wasn’t some scam, your money was placed along with Lemon and Tangerine’s. So, now you’re going up an elevator to Tangerine’s room to get your share. You knock on 215 and he opens the door.

“Hey.”

“Hey, come in.” You walk into the room, but only close the door slightly, not shutting it, and you stand next to it, ready to just get your money and leave, not expecting to stay here any longer than you have to. He goes to the back of the room and brings back a bag, “Here.”

“Thanks,” You spy inside the room, the place is quiet, most of the lights are off and it holds only one bed. “Is Lemon not here?”

“No, different hotel, leave no trail and such.”

“Oh.” You’re genuinely surprised. Shit, that’s smart, perhaps you and Ladybug aren’t as great professionals as you thought you were—even if the bar when you two worked together was already pretty low.

“What? Is me delivering your money instead that bad?”

You snort. “No, no, that I don’t mind.”

You look at each other for a second, perhaps you should be on your way-

“Are you staying in Greece after the job?”

“Uh, no. Me and Ladybug are going back to New York right after.”

“Oh.” He looks down, the expression on his face something you can’t quite read. “Are you and Ladybug…”

“No! God, no!” You almost yell. “No, he’s my best friend.”

“Oh, right.”

“Why?”

“Just…curious.”

Hm. Curious. 

You stare at each other again, a smile on your eyes but not on your lips.

“Okay, I should get going.” You start opening the door to leave.

“Wait,” He says, grabbing your arm. “I think…you should stay here the night.” 

The smile reaches your lips, amused. “Why?”

“You know, you could just stay here the night, if you want…”

“Okay but, why?” You tease. He furrows his brows. “I’m sorry Tangerine, I just don’t know what you’re telling me.” Your words are of someone genuinely confused, but your face and tone tell a different story. He catches on and sighs.

“I’m just saying…you could spend the night here, with me.”

You click your tongue, “Tangerine…you have to speak clearly.”

He squeezes your arm, and approaches his face to yours, changing his tone, “Sarin. I want you to stay. I want you.”

You let your lips fully curve up this time, pleased.

You put both your hands on his face, and close the space between you, only placing a light kiss on his lips, then pulling away to see his reaction. He keeps his eyes shut for a moment, as if still in the moment. Then, he opens his eyes, staring at you for a second, and pulls you in for a stronger kiss. His hands at first cupping your face, then one makes his way towards you back, pulling you in closer, even though you were already as close as you could possibly be right now. You shut the door with your foot behind you, not letting each other go for even one second. Tonight your own bed’s gonna have to wait for you.

[scottpetersen]

DuckTales Double-O-Duck In You Only Crash Twice Rescue Rangers POV Fanfic Chapter 4

Gadget’s POV:

We were in pursuit of Steelbeak along with Launchpad.

They were able to arrive at their destination before we could.

That destination turned out to be some sort of lighthouse with a satellite dish on top.

I activated the sound amplifier I installed earlier in the plane. That way, we can at least listen to what’s going on in the meantime before we get there.

“You again? Wait a minute. Is that my suit?” Steelbeak asked Launchpad.

“It suits me better.” Launchpad replied.

With that, they began to fight and it seems like Launchpad has the advantage.

“Wait a sec. Your brain. Your body. They’re all smart now.” Steelbeak said. “But not for long.”

Steelbeak then pushed a button that got the satellite dish to turn diagonal.

“Wait! No!” Launchpad yelled.

What? What does Steelbeak mean?!

Then, I recalled the dazed state we found Black Heron in earlier and my eyes widened in horror!

“Golly! Everyone, I think I just figured out what Steelbeak is up to!” I said to everyone on the plane!

This caused Chip, Dale, Monty and Zipper to all lock eyes on me waiting for my explanation.

“Remember that dazed state we found Black Heron in earlier?” I asked.

Everyone nodded.

“I believe she was hit by a version of the intelligence ray that has been modified to make people dumber rather than smarter!” I said. “And if it’s being concentrated through that satellite dish and also judging by the direction it’s pointing in, it will blast everyone in the entire city!”

“Then we have to stop Steelbeak!” Chip shouted in response. “For the entire city’s sake as well as Launchpad’s and Dewey’s!”

We all nodded in agreement as we continued toward the satellite dish!

“You haven’t adjusted the device correctly! You’ll make the whole city imbecilic!” Launchpad said.

“Your fancy speak won’t work on me, dummy-o-duck. Ha! Classic!” Steelbeak replied ignoring Launchpad!

Golly! Hopefully we’ll make it there in time!

“But they’ll be so dumb they’ll forget how to breath!” Launchpad said to Steelbeak.

“Oh-Oh! Yeah! No, doy! That was totally my plan the whole time and you just figured it out?” Steelbeak replied. “Looks like you’re not as smart as me.”

“Not as smart as I.” Launchpad corrected.

Despite the dire situation, that managed to get a snicker out of me.

Steelbeak screamed and pushed Launchpad onto his back on the edge of the satellite dish!

Golly! Hold on, Launchpad!

According to my calculations, we should be within range to launch the jumper cables at Steelbeak any second now!

Suddenly, Launchpad let out a laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” Steelbeak asked.

“This lighthouse has a bit of a rodent problem.” Launchpad replied!

Looks like Launchpad sees us. But right now, we need to focus on Steelbeak!

We launched the jumper cables at Steelbeak and proceeded to zap him thus rendering him unconscious!

“Thanks for the rescue.” Launchpad said to us while also giving us a salute.

I winked and gave Launchpad while giving him a salute as well.

Glad to help, Launchpad!

““Rescue?” We should make that a part of our team name!” Dale said excitedly.

“Our team name?” Chip asked.

“Yeah. Something tells me this won’t be our last time working together. So, we gotta have a team name.” Dale said.

“Hm. Why not.” Chip replied with a smile. “So what name do you have in mind?”

Putting his hand to his chin, Dale thought for a moment before snapping his fingers.

“How about…the Rescue Rangers!” Dale said.

I think that has a nice ring to it. And it looks like everyone else on the plane agrees.

“Oh. And we’ll call this…” Dale began while gesturing to the plane itself. “…the Ranger Plane!”

We all agreed with that name too.

But then, we heard something through the sound amplifier!

“Ugh. The city is doomed!” Launchpad said!

Golly! Sounds like Launchpad still needs our help!

I got the Ranger Plane to circle back around. But as we were about to head in Launchpad’s direction, the Ranger Plane’s controls malfunctioned rendering us stuck in place!

No! No! This can’t be happening!

“No person can survive being that stupid!” Launchpad said before pausing for a brief moment. “Except…”

My eyes widened as I realized what Launchpad is about to do! He’s gonna sacrifice his intelligence!

I desperately tried to get the controls to work but it was no use!

Launchpad then climbed up the satellite dish and untied Dewey.

“Launchpad!” Dewey said excitedly. “I can’t believe it! We might actually beat the game!”

I bent my head down and sighed.

Golly. If Dewey only knew.

“Launchpad?” Dewey asked as he saw his friend climb to where the beam is being focused!

Then, Launchpad stopped.

“I can’t sacrifice my intelligence! There’s so much more I could accomplish! Stop the evil conspiracy out to get us! Solve world hunger! Land a plane! There must be some other way!” Launchpad said.

“What? Launchpad, why are you overthinking this?” Dewey asked.

“Cuz I want to be good enough for you!” Launchpad answered!

Suddenly, it all fell into place! The source of that empathy-like feeling from earlier! It was something my instincts were trying to tell me!

Launchpad and I are kindred spirits! We both want to be good enough for the people we love! He wants to be good enough for his friend Dewey while I want to be good enough for my late father! There are differences, of course! He believed his enhanced intelligence might help him be good enough whereas I believed my enhanced intelligence might stop me from being good enough! But we have this similarity between us all the same!

“Of course you’re good enough for me. You’re my best friend.” Dewey said.

I was then overwhelmed by a raging storm of emotions. Joy at seeing a kindred spirit being accepted for who he is! Stress as this starts reminding me of the death of my father! Anger at not being able to help Launchpad and Dewey! And, of course, the empathy I felt for Launchpad!

Launchpad then got himself into the gap where the beam was gonna be focused!

“For Dewey…” Launchpad started!

I couldn’t bare to watch as I closed my eyes with tears coming down them knowing fully well what’s gonna happen next!

“…And Duckburg!” Launchpad finished!

I then heard a blast!

I opened my eyes to see Launchpad plummeting down the side of the lighthouse with Dewey in his arms!

And I also saw some large rocks right below their trajectory as well!

Golly! If we don’t do something, they’ll fall to their deaths!

Thankfully, I just got the controls working again and we flew to intercept them!

I activated the normal cables which won’t zap their targets and got them to grab Launchpad and Dewey!

The cables snapped almost immediately under their weight but we were able to use that brief time gap to get them out of the way of the rocks and instead fell into the water.

They then floated to shore and Dewey was apparently knocked unconscious by the force of the fall.

We flew to the shoreline and got a good look at Launchpad, the hero who saved Duckburg!

Monterey’s POV:

Wow! I’ve seen some pretty tough people over at those casinos but Launchpad had all of them beat! He just sacrificed his smarts in order to save all of Duckburg! You can hardly get any more tough than that! But at the same time, I wish he didn’t have to do it!

Zipper’s POV:

I felt sadness and happiness at the same time! Sadness at how he made such a big sacrifice. But at the same time, respect for his valor! I’ve gotta hand it to Launchpad! He definitely acted like a brave soldier to the end! And he put the needs of the many above his own!

Chip’s POV:

I can’t exactly put what I’m feeling about Launchpad into words. But I can say this. I didn’t exactly respect Launchpad at first but I also wish he didn’t have to make this kind of sacrifice! He has definitely more than earned my respect! So, I simply gave him a honorable salute!

Dale’s POV:

I couldn’t help but cry at what I just saw! Launchpad just did the ultimate superhero sacrifice in order to save the city from an evil mastermind! Hopefully that sacrifice won’t be in vain!

Gadget’s POV:

Don’t worry, Launchpad. I promise I won’t let your sacrifice be in vain! I’ll do everything I can to help keep this world safe! You can count on me and the Rescue Rangers to do just that!

My thoughts were then interrupted when a helicopter appeared out of nowhere and began to land near us.

If they’re with FOWL, our best bet to fight back is to ambush them! So, we took the Ranger Plane and went out of sight waiting to attack!

Then, the helicopter door opened and out walked a buzzard in a black suit along with a few henchmen!

Golly! I recognize him! He was on that transmission that Black Heron received earlier while she was experimenting on us in our miniature cages! He is with FOWL!

Immediately, I got ready to shoot the jumper cables again! I won’t let him kill Launchpad and Dewey without a fight!

“Ugh. Black Heron, what has your showboating gotten this organization into this time?” that buzzard asked as he looked at Launchpad and Dewey.

“Should we kill them, sir?” one of the henchmen asked him while pointing at Launchpad and Dewey!

I gritted my teeth! I swear if you hurt them, you are going to pay!

“No.” that buzzard replied to that henchman taking us by surprise! “We gotta keep FOWL’s existence as discreet as possible. Take them back to the arcade alive.”

I felt relieved that Launchpad and Dewey are going to be ok as the henchmen dragged them away.

1 Hour Later…

Sometime later, me and the others were watching as Scrooge and his family and friend exited the arcade.

We followed the henchmen there as they were dragging Launchpad and Dewey along just to make sure that buzzard didn’t go back on what he said.

Suddenly, Chip pulled on my sleeve and told me, “Come on, Gadget. We gotta get moving. FOWL isn’t gonna stop itself.”

“Ok, Chip.” I said before looking back at the McDuck family. “Just give me a moment.”

“Ok, Gadget.” Chip replied as he hopped on the Ranger Plane.

I then got a glance at Launchpad.

“Goodbye, Launchpad.” I said before beginning to walk to the Ranger Plane.

Then, I took one last look at Launchpad before whispering, “And thank you for everything.”

Notes: Ok. All that’s left now is the epilogue. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Also, thanks for reading.

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

Do you happen to have any fics to help restore ones love for the irondad fandom? I'm suddenly afraid of loosing interest. Perhaps I haven't read a good fic in a while.

Oh, there is so much variety in the Irondad fandom that I guess it depends on what you enjoy.  Here are a few of my favorites from across the board.  

Whump with Feelings:

Of Flying and Falling by @polaroid15

Peter hums as if in deep thought. The blood on his face is bright and unrelenting in the glow of the fire, like some permanent reminder of Tony's failures. “Did you know my parents died in a plane crash?”

Tony jolts, the response hitting him like a freight train. He rubs Peter’s arm as his throat tightens. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“They must’ve been really scared.”

“Are you scared Peter?”

---

Or, on their way home from a fancy conference on the coast of Vancouver, Tony and Peter's helicopter crashes, ending what should have been a perfect weekend filled with maple ice cream and sea water in a desperate battle for survival.

A Mermaid AU:

Petey and the Hermit by eccentric_artist_221b

Three years after losing his wife and child to a fatal car accident, Tony Stark courts his darkest thoughts at the top of an old, abandoned lighthouse. Preserved at the last second by the supposed screams of a drowning victim, Tony leaps into action. Finding an injured merboy trapped in trawler lines between the crevice of a rock, he can only assume this is part of a whiskey induced dream. As he brings the creature home to nurse its wounds, he soon discovers this is more than he signed up for when it begins to form a bond with him.

Age Regression:

close to my heart, never to part by @parkrstark

During patrol one night, Peter comes across something that leaves him and Ned dumbfounded. The next morning, Ned is dropping off a now two-year-old Peter at Tony’s. Not only does he have to figure out how to turn him back, but he must watch him. Tony wonders what he’s supposed to do with the now toddler-Peter for the next two weeks…until he slowly starts to wonder what he will do without this boy after the two weeks are over.

Amnesia Victim Peter Parker:

Do You Know Who You Are? by loubuttons 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For forgetting. I’m sure I didn’t want to forget you.”

Amnesia Victim- Tony Stark:

Identity [REDACTED] by @obsessionoftheday

Dissociative fugue is one or more episodes of amnesia in which an individual cannot recall some or all of his or her past. Either the loss of one's identity or the formation of a new identity may occur with sudden, unexpected, purposeful travel away from home.

OR

When Tony goes missing, Peter and Rhodey team up to find him.

Migraine and Injury two for one:

Keeping Company by @whumphoarder and @xxx-cat-xxx

While attempting to look after his migraine-riddled mentor, Peter manages to injure himself badly enough to need Tony’s help.

Lots of Fluff:

t-shirts by KiwisAndTea  @kiwisandtea

A collection of one-shots centered around Peter Parker's favorite shirts. They serve only two purposes:

1. to embarrass Peter

2. to make Tony Feel™ Things

Humor:

Sole Heir by GotMyInkPen  @gotmyinkpen

Tony Stark has officially decided that Peter Parker is his sole heir and will one day inherit Stark Industries. Here's how Peter prepares for that day.

Kid Peter Parker- Hydra :

darkness will be rewritten by @marveal

"Richard Parker was studying Cross-Species Genetics, but struggled with the ethics of it, because it required he use human DNA, which no ethics board would agree with. So he used his own. His work was successful based off of his own DNA, and every human has a unique DNA,” Bruce explains. “So, naturally, when HYDRA wanted his research, they knew they would never get his support, so they took the next best thing they could to his own DNA. His son."

Or, Tony finds a tortured and experimented-on Peter Parker in a HYDRA base and decides to help him because who else will?

Adoption AU:

I told you I had issues by Bergen 

Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and right now, a little exasperated. Because some guy is swinging around New York, shooting webs and making trouble, Fury is breathing down his neck, and his latest intern took off with his coupon for a free coffee.

Thank god for Pepper Potts.

--

...or, a Spider-Man AU where a set of bad circumstances begin to push Peter Parker down a wrong path, and where Tony is probably not the best person to deal with it, but he does anyway.

Kid Peter Meets Tony :

i promise you, kid, you'll be home soon by bstarship

If there was one good thing to come out of Tony's ultimate death at the end of the week, it was the ability to forget for a short period of time. He spent his time surrounded by strangers who idolized him and friends who sometimes gave less of a damn. But it was a kid who grounded him—who made him wish he had more time because he reminded him that there were good things to live for. One kid did all that.

Truly, Tony didn’t know how to make sense of it. A part of him told him to be unabashedly humble. Another part said to leave the kid and drive to Miami with the top down until his eyes fell out of their sockets.

A kid who had a shopping bag tied around his wrist with the Stark Expo logo on the side. A kid who was silent for a while until he finally said, “I have to use the bathroom.”

It was just a kid. A kid.

or

Peter is eight-years-old and loves everything about Iron Man. Tony is dying and helps a lost kid find his aunt and uncle.

Sickfic:

Sick and Lost by @kittybellestark

Peter’s sick and took the wrong bus. He meant to go to New Jersey but ends up in not New Jersey and calls Tony for help. He isn't having a great time but at least he has Tony on his side.

Okay, I could go on ALL DAY so I think I’ll stop here.  If you find something you enjoy and want more things like it, let me know!

[alpacaparkaseok]

Mine

13. Agust D

Genre: Min Yoongi x oc

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4.2k

I have a surprise for you guys in this chapter!!! 😊😊 Aaaaand we’re all set up and ready to go for the finale! 

2 Months Later

Anacortes, Washington, USA

The distant sound of a bell pulls me back to reality, and I turn to face the wind. Waves are pushing their way onto the shore, the choppy water fighting for my attention.

I watch as the ferry grows ever closer before putting my earbuds into my ears to answer my incoming phone call.

“Funny, I was just thinking about you,” I smile as I close my eyes.

“Really? What a coincidence. What are you up to right now?”

“Just about to board the ferry. You?”

“I’m going to head to bed soon.”

“Wow, so early. You’ve become so disciplined!”

Yoongi’s breathy laugh fills my ears and I can almost picture him rolling his eyes if I close my eyes tightly enough. “I’m assuming you’re not available to facetime?”

Frowning, I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “No, too many people around. You’ll just have to deal with the beautiful sound of my voice.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

It’s been two months since I last saw Yoongi outside of Bong-cha’s apartment. The chill that comes with currently residing in the northwestern United States is almost the same as I felt that morning when we said goodbye.

‘Young Rising’ came out just over a month ago, and it’s received a lot of success. Thankfully it was just enough to help me land a role that is already receiving speculation for possibly being a critically acclaimed role.

It wasn’t the one I originally wanted, that role went to Bryce Dallas Howard. I suppose I’ll have to try for a 1700’s romance some other time. This time around I get to play the daughter of one of the first lighthouse keepers in the United States and all the crazy events that unfold. It’s fun, and getting to take the ferry out to the San Juan islands here in the state of Washington is an added bonus.

My favorite part of the role? Every morning I get to sit here and watch the ocean and talk to Yoongi.

“Rude, but I’m not surprised. Isn’t it barely midnight there? You really are heading off to bed early.”

“Yeah, it’s midnight. What can I say? It was a long day and I’m exhausted.”

Now that I listen closer, I notice the hint of tiredness in his tone. “Why? What happened today?”

Yoongi sighs as I get up to board the ferry. Another great thing about being here in Washington? It’s cold and rainy enough that nobody bats an eye at me. I’m decked out in my raincoat and my beanie is pulled down low. During this time of year there aren’t many tourists either, so most mornings it’s just the ferryman and I. Today there are a couple of small groups milling about, though.

All the better. It gives me an excuse to not facetime Yoongi and have him laugh at my bundled up state. Which, for the record, he finds hilarious.

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Promise.”

There’s a second hesitation before he speaks up again. “I miss you.”

It’s a blow straight to the heart, and I cling to the railing so as to not fall overboard. We try not to dwell on our current state too much, things are complicated enough. Still, it’s nice to know that I’m not the only one struggling with this.

“Why would I laugh at that?”

“I don’t know, you like making fun of me and how weirdly sentimental I can get-”

“Soft. That’s the word you’re looking for.”

“...right. How could I forget.”

“I miss you too, Yoongs. A lot.”

It’s silent on the other end of the phone for a little while, so I just lean up against the railing and watch as the ferry begins to edge out to sea. Once again I close my eyes against the crashing waves and try to convince myself that I’m sitting in the genius lab or making a mess of things in the kitchen.

How could a span of less than a week affect me so much? It’s a question that I’ve come back to many times over the past couple of weeks. Occasionally I get a moment of understanding. Sometimes that understanding comes late at night as I cuddle up in bed, propping my phone up to chat with Yoongi as he sits at his desk in the genius lab and tells me about what he’s working on.

Just watching him mumble incoherent things under his breath and seeing his eyes flit back to his phone to check that I’m still there makes me realize that there’s so much going on here. So much going on whilst being so far apart.

At least the media frenzy has died down a bit. Sure, there’s still a lot of theories tumbling around, but the mobs of heartbroken fans seems to have lessened significantly.

“Are you sure that’s everything, though? What else have you got going on?”

“What, me missing you is not enough?”

I chuckle into the phone. “Nope.”

“Fine, you caught me. We’re finishing up the final touches on the mixtape and I always just get really stressed before a release, you know? Like you did the night before ‘Young Rising’ premiered?”

Shuddering at the memory I groan. “Ugh, don’t remind me. But what is it exactly about this mixtape that has you so nervous? I mean, this isn’t the first time you’ve released one. Maybe whatever helped you de-stress last time will help you this time around, too.”

There’s a long pause but I wait patiently for him to speak. The island is just coming into view now, I’ve probably got about fifteen more minutes before I’m officially on the clock and have to hang up.

I hate that part.

“I’m not so sure...it’s different this time around.”

I frown. “What’s so different? You’re even more loved?”

A wry laugh on his part. “No, not that. It’s just...this mixtape, these songs...they’re even more personal this time around. Sure, I’ve talked about some pretty personal things on my previous mixtapes, but this time around the entire mixtape is personal.”

That’s news to me. Ever since Yoongi changed the concept of the album he’s kept everything under lock and key. He told me he kept most of the tracks, ‘My First Mistake’ obviously being one of them. Other than that, though, I have no idea what to expect.

“Yoongs...I think that will make this mixtape your best one yet. Really. People will be able to relate to it, and they’ll love you even more for it. Just, get some sleep tonight. You’ve worked your hardest - don’t try to brush it all off, you’ve nearly worked yourself to the ground over this mixtape! - and that’s all you can do. I’m absolutely positive it’ll be great.”

“Thanks, Car. So what scenes are you doing today?”

We get lost in the conversation for the remainder of the ferry ride before suddenly the ferry is coming to a stop. I hurry off the boat, the tell-tale change of tone tipping Yoongi off to what I need to do.

“Talk to you later?”

“Yeah, sounds great. Get some sleep!”

Yoongi chuckles. “Will do. Have a great day.”

I sign off the phone and roll my shoulders. One of the producers, Melissa, is waiting for me in a little golf cart.

“Hey Cara, ready for the day?”

Grinning at her, I jump into the passenger seat. “Definitely.”

🌙

It’s the middle of the night when I’m awoken from my slumber, and I groan as I contemplate just turning my phone off. It was a late night, I’ve probably only been asleep for a couple of hours at this point.

When I see who’s calling, though, I pick up.

“Bong-cha?” I ask blearily. “What’s up?”

“Have you listened to it yet?!”

I hiss as Bong-cha screams into my ear. “What are you talking about? Did you and Jimin finally kiss or something?”

“No, you idiot. Yoongi’s mixtape!”

My eyes widen and suddenly I’m completely awake. “His mixtape? I-it’s out? When?”

“It just dropped like an hour ago! Didn’t he tell you? I mean, I get that he wanted to surprise everybody, but I thought he’d at least tell you.”

I’m already on my music app, searching for Agust D. When I finally hit search, I scream involuntarily.

“That little punk! He didn’t even tell me!”

“Wait, Cara!”

“What?”

“Just, listen to it.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, weirdo.”

“No, but really listen to it. I mean, it’s about you.”

My chest stops rising as my air gets cut off. “What do you mean it’s about me? We already knew about ‘My First Mistake’-”

“No, not just that track. I mean it’s all about you. Just look at the name of it! Isn’t it a little weird that he didn’t stick to his m.o. and title it ‘D-3’?”

I was in such a rush to click on his profile that I didn’t even bother to look at the title. When I do, I come gasping up for air.

Mine.

Written there in big, bold letters is the word mine.

“That doesn’t mean any-”

“Nuh-uh, you listen to the mixtape and then we’ll hash out the details. Got it?”

“Fine. Call you in the morning?”

“Isn’t it already morning for you?”

“Yeah, 4!”

“Right. Yeah, call me later.”

Clicking off the call, I take a deep breath to steel myself before clicking on the album. 8 tracks stare back up at me, most of them I recognize from that first night in the genius lab. The leading track is ‘My First Mistake’, which makes me smile. When my eyes trail down to the final song, I can’t help but click on it.

My Last Mistake. Turning the volume up, I sit back against my headboard and listen. And then, note by note, I fall under his spell.

Yoongi’s heartbroken voice talks about details of his life, how he goes by many names. The world knows him by Suga. His true fans know his other name, August D. Min Yoongi controls the strings of those two personas. A heavy beat pounds out the words alongside him.

Then the music slows, becomes calmer. Clearer.

In the most tormented voice he can manage, Yoongi talks about a girl that called him Yoongs. He talks about a girl driving under the stars that called him Yoongs and how in that moment, he decided that none of the other names mattered anymore, just so long as he could hear her say it one more time.

As the song falls from its crescendo, Yoongi brings up his last mistake.

“What’s your last mistake, Yoongs?” I whisper, hoping for an answer.

He answers it a moment later, the same melody from ‘My First Mistake’ being played out, only this time it’s on the guitar rather than the piano.

He’s reminded of his last mistake every time a plane flies overhead and he can’t run fast enough to catch it.

🌙

The entire mixtape is hauntingly beautiful.

As I finish listening to “Naksan”, a song set Naksan park, and what I assume to be the gazebo that overlooked Seoul, I lean my head back and sigh.

There is so much we don’t say. There is so much that Yoongi has never said, but now I’m beginning to realize why he was so nervous about this mixtape.

Here, crammed into these eight songs that talk about everything from t-shirts to being oceans apart, Yoongi says everything he never could before. It’s obvious, painfully so. He didn’t try to cover anything up.

I am so dead.

Yet, I can’t find it in myself to care. The only thing I wish I could do right now is show up at his apartment and sit down on his couch. Maybe eat some food, and watch as he fumbles for an explanation to this mixtape that is no longer a mixtape but more a cry out into the void.

And of course, don’t even get me started on the title track. The song that the album is named after, “Mine”.

In it Yoongi recalls his dreams of having a big car and house, and how he gets to call all those things his now. He has it all, essentially. And yet, the one thing he wants more than anything is far from him.

‘I have it all, I hear them say it. I have it all, they chant over again. When will they realize that it means nothing to me, if I can’t call you mine?’

Dragging myself to check Twitter, I see what the number one trending topic is right now.

#Mine

And in second place?

#CaraisMine

Somehow, I can never quite make it to first place. How disappointing.

Groaning as I realize that the sun is about to come up, I linger over Yoongi’s contact information.

One call. That’s all it would take. A single phone call, and maybe everything would change. But what would I even say?

Hi, it’s the girl that’s ridiculously in love with you. Do you feel the same way? Great! Let’s end our careers and live in Fiji!

As enticing as that sounds as I watch the rain pouring down, I know that it’s unrealistic. I’m here, caught up in some strange, long-distance relationship that’s technically not a relationship.

And Yoongi’s there, hopefully receiving all the praise he deserves for coming out with yet another great mixtape.

So I just let the dim light from my phone fade out before slipping back down under the covers. I know what Yoong is thinking now.

Ball’s in my court. But how on earth do I return it?

🌙

Seoul, South Korea

“And she still hasn’t said anything about it?”

Yoongi knows that Taehyung is trying really hard to understand his current predicament, but if he asks him if he’s heard from Cara one more time, he’s going to lose his mind.

“No.”

“Have you reached out to her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Sighing, Yoongi rubs his hands over his face. “First, because it’s only 8 o’clock in the morning over there. Second, I basically just told the world about my feelings for her, I think I can give her a little space to breathe before jumping on her.”

Taehyung plops down beside Yoongi, his eyes wide. “You’re really stressed, aren’t you?”

Somehow the question makes Yoongi laugh. “You think?” He feels restless; he has for the past two months. He thought releasing the mixtape would diminish that feeling, but instead it’s been heightened to the point that he can’t hardly sit still anymore.

Which is saying a lot, because Yoongi loves sitting still.

“Hyung?”

“Hm.”

“I think you should borrow my car and go for a drive or something. Just get out for a while. You’ve been cooped up in this studio for weeks; it’s messing with your head.”

Sometimes Yoongi forgets how much everyone cares about him. It’s in times like these that he remembers. Without saying much else he takes Taehyung’s keys that he extends to him and heads out.

When he gets into the car, he doesn’t know where he’s going. His mind is filled with worry and doubts and worst of all, regret. Was he too blind in his feelings that he overlooked Cara’s? After all, maybe she’s listening to the mixtape right this very moment and wondering why he would write something like this.

Maybe she hasn’t called him yet because she’s trying to come up with a way to let him down easy.

Yoongi drives and drives, turning up the music so as to drown out the thoughts in his head. He drives on and on, clueless to the fact that it’s the middle of the night and he should really be heading back to the apartment now.

When he parks before a lit path that leads up, Yoongi realizes that his body knew this entire time where he was going.

Without questioning it further, he hops out of the car and shrugs on his coat and mask. It’s late enough that hopefully most people will have had the sense to go home.

As Yoongi climbs up the path he only passes a couple of people; a couple that are too tangled up in each other’s embrace to even notice him. The path continues ever upward until he’s panting, but he’s grateful for the burn in his lungs. For a brief moment, his mind isn’t consumed by the what ifs of his current situation.

As Yoongi clears the final steps, his gaze immediately turns to the gazebo just down a ways. It’s the same as before, the night a similar one to that night when he watched Cara from afar before mustering up the courage to go talk to her.

Tonight there is one major difference. As Yoongi edges closer, there’s a tightness in his chest. There’s some part of him that half-expects Cara to appear, leaning up against one of the pillars and looking out at the city.

As Yoongi steps into the gazebo, that wish vanishes into thin air.

It’s empty.

Cara is not here. Yoongi is, though. Which has proved to be the most miserable thing in the world over the past two months. Cara is gone, but somehow Yoongi is still here and seeing her everywhere he goes.

The songwriting and production process is enough to make anyone go a little insane. Usually, once the project is finished, Yoongi feels like he can finally breathe again. He’s able to enjoy the fruits of his labors.

Not tonight.

At first he laughed at himself, back when he’d first started learning about Cara from Bong-cha and curiosity overcame him. He thought it was silly of him to want to learn everything about her and what it was that made her tick. There was just something about her that made Yoongi dive right in.

Of course, the boys had noticed. Even Bong-cha, who hadn’t known him for very long, had noticed the difference Cara had made. That was before they even met. Before any of this had even started.

Yoongi knows his place. His place as one of the most famous stars in the world, his place in the group’s dynamic, his place among his family. His place among ARMY. Yet, when he met Cara, it was like the ground disappeared under his feet and he’s been falling ever since.

He used to come to Naksan park often and just think. He’s not one for hiking around outdoors, but something about the view and the beautiful architecture of the gazebo and old city walls that line the path have helped him think.

He used to stand where Cara stood, and think about everything. However there was one topic that he tried to avoid at all costs: love. It wasn’t because he didn’t believe in love or didn't want it; if he’s learned anything from his time with ARMY he’s learned about love. But there was always this giant, impenetrable wall that stood between him and love.

Yoongi knows his place, and because of that clear role he has also always known that him falling in love with someone other than his fans was off the table.

That night when he came to meet Cara, he was coming to tell her just that. He was coming to tell her that he was a horrible human being that was dangerously close to breaking that unspoken rule, and he needed to mark a clear line in the sand. Friends, he had thought We can still be friends.

Yet, as he’d watched Cara head to the same spot; the same pillar he had frequented so many times, his words had gotten caught in his throat. She’d looked out over the city and Yoongi would have given anything to know what she was thinking.

Instead, he’d just asked for what so many people had been unable to give him throughout his career.

Just someone to sit in silence with.

No demands, no questions, just be together.

And as Yoongi sat swimming in his feelings, Cara’s head resting on his shoulder, he learned something about himself.

Yoongi had avoided the topic of love for so long not because he didn’t think it was appropriate for his lifestyle, but because he’d known deep down that the chances of him finding someone he was willing give everything up for were nearly nonexistent.

Cara’s hand was wrapped up in his, sharing his pocket. Quiet breathing, feeling warm despite the oppressing chill. No demanding answers, just sitting together.

He had realized that while he was looking for someone to convince him to leave everything behind, he was sitting beside someone that already understood. Someone that would never tell him to abandon it all just to be together.

He was sitting beside someone that might just be open to the possibility of being together, and would be open to the chaos that would ensue. There was no need to change everything to be together, but there would be the need to fight for that privilege of calling Cara his.

As Yoongi now steps into the gazebo and rests on the bench opposite from where they had sat, he remembers when it all started.

The night after he’d watched ‘Under Nine’, he’d felt restless and wandered up here. It was the first time in over a year that he’d come here. He knew why he didn’t bother to anymore; he didn’t feel inspired anymore when he looked out over the city.

Yoongi had seen the world, and he’d fallen out of love with it.

It was a horrible, lying, cheating thing. He’d seen too much suffering, fought so hard against it just to see evil rise up again and again.

Yet when he came up here that night after watching Cara on screen and seeing that humanity can be beautiful even in all its flaws, something amazing had happened.  

He looked out over the city, and a little spark had jumped up in his heart. That night, Yoongi looked out over the world, and began to fall in love again.

Yoongi has never been very confrontational. Some may think he is simply due to his status as a rapper, but that’s never been the case. However, he is known for his undeniable work ethic. For his unending effort to obtain what he thinks he deserves.

When Yoongi placed a letter into the mail a few days ago, he was reminded of why he was going to do everything in his power to make this work.

When he looked at Cara, he thought that she deserved a chance at love, too.

Giving one last look out at the city, Yoongi gets up and stretches. There are a lot of uncertainties swirling about right now, but there is one thing he is completely certain of.

He is going to do everything in his power to give him and Cara a chance.

🌙

Anacortes, Washington, USA

I have mail.

It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve gotten mail, but I can’t fight the feeling of dread as I wonder if the awkward pleas from fans are about to start up again. There’s a single envelope addressed to me sitting on the ground in front of my hotel door, which I scoop up before heading back inside.

No work today; we’ll be taking a two week break to wait out the rainy season before picking things back up again. I’m grateful for the small reprieve, I would much rather stay cuddled up in my blankets today while I try to wrap my mind around everything.

I haven’t reached out to Yoongi yet. Granted, it’s only 10 am, but I still feel a little guilty. I just want to make sure I have my thoughts in order before I freak out, you know? After all, there’s still a chance the mixtape being about me is just a coincidence...right?

Stacey, my PR rep, just got off the phone with me. Nobody really knows where I am right now, which is good. There are perks to being holed up in a small town in the northwestern United States.

She gave me an earful on how many calls she’s received over the course of the last few hours from various magazines and gossip collectors. When she asked me if there was a statement she would like for me to relay, I blanked. Stacey just laughed and said she’d come up with some vague for the time being.

My attention returns to the item in my hand. Cautiously opening up the letter, my brows furrow as I take out a small slip of paper and a piece of thick cardstock.

Cara,

Hopefully this gets to you when it’s supposed to. I thought of just sending you an email but that seemed to detract from what I was going for. You understand, don’t you? When you told me about your break from work, I managed to pull some strings. Follow the directions on the back of this letter, I’ll be waiting for you. And no, I can’t do this over the phone. It’s an ‘in-person’ kind of thing.

Yours,

Yoongs

Flipping the letter over I frown when the directions are in French. Then, scrambling for the cardstock, my mouth drops open as I see just what Yoongi is talking about.

One boarding ticket for tomorrow morning, leaving at 10am.

Destination?

Paris.

Previous - Next

only one chapter left! 💛💛

taglist: @eusticenatalie @agustneeds​ @prdshobi​ @oceandeep​ @taylorroe3​ @dreamcatcherjiah​

[fyexo]

201203 The Powerful, Limitless Kai

EXO member Kai unpacks his solo debut, artistry, and how he learned to express himself.

“I wanted to show that Kai is limitless,” 26-year-old Kim Jongin, better known by his stage name Kai, tells Teen Vogue of his newly-released debut self-titled album. The word is multifaceted, conjuring up an unfettered existence or an endless void, as terrifying as it is appealing.

Kai leans toward the latter. His voice — soft, restrained, thoughtful, and at times giddy during our interview — is an anchor in that wide open space. He’s quite excited about the idea of limitlessness, of existing on more than one plane, of proving you’re more than one thing.

Kai, out November 30, is just the first step.

“Over the years I've been in the industry, many people have seen me as a member of EXO. I have performed in front of our EXO fans and SuperM fans. This is the first time I'm actually releasing something under my own name,” he says. “I want to show people who Kai is through this album. The name Kai means ‘to open’. So, I want it to be open and show a new side of me.”

The year was 2012 when EXO debuted with an intensely mythological, high-concept origin story. Shortly after the heart of the Tree of Life dried up due to the red forces’ incessant attacks, Kai descended to Earth — along with the rest of the members of EXO — as part of the legends that “see the same sky but shall stand on different grounds, shall stand on the same ground but shall see different skies.” (A parallel to EXO’s original split into two groups, one focused on China’s pop market, the other on Korea’s.) Each member has his own superpower, and Kai’s is teleportation, although he doesn’t always know what to do with it. During the music video for “Lucky One," the rest of EXO use their powers to fend off villains, but Kai breaks out into dance. (Though if you’ve seen Kai dance, you’ll know that’s as much a superpower as anything.)

That may be Kai’s beginning, but he was brought to life by Kim Jongin, the youngest of three siblings, who grew up in Suncheon, South Korea, with an early interest in ballet and jazz dance. Taking on the persona of Kai at 17 years old, he began to set the framework for what he’d soon become known for: a fluid, captivating dance style infused with seemingly endless confidence, smirking through concept changes with ease. As EXO’s popularity hit the stratosphere shortly after their single “Growl” — with performances on world stages like the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics, the multi-million selling 9-member group remains one of the most revered acts in modern-day K-pop — so did Kai’s reputation as one of the most enigmatic performers in Korean idol music.

Duality is one of K-pop’s favorite concepts, and the endearing dichotomy between Kai and Jongin is a perfect example of where the person and the artist diverge. On stage, Kai paints a mysterious picture, flitting from lithe self-possession to seductive swagger, to borderline arrogance. Off stage, however, Jongin is uncharacteristically shy: he blushes when complimented by his group members, often forgets his own passwords (and asks friends to help out), and is obsessed with his niece and nephew.

While every gaze, every spin, every step with Kai is intentional, Kim Jongin is as free of the bounds of pretense as it gets. It could be as easy as turning a switch on or off, but that would be doing Kai’s ethos a disservice. It’s subliminal. “Kai is me in my dream state,” he says. “When I'm sleeping, it's like my dream character comes alive, and that would be Kai. I’m more of a normal, down-to-earth person. That's just me, but Kai is this persona that's on stage… I do notice that when I'm dancing and pulling off all these different concepts, [I’m] like a totally different person outside of myself doing that.”

And if EXO member Kai is one type of persona, solo performer Kai is another. He previewed Kai with a short film song-sampler, in which he “teleports” through a cinematic thoroughfare of concepts, each one diving deeper. In “Hello Stranger,” his voice is the lighthouse in the storm of the bustling city, asking to talk about the things that overwhelm you. “Reason” is a modern-day fairytale, with Kai as the quirky, attention-grabbing prince in a sea of droning conversations and pretentious debutantes. Hold his hand, turn the corner, and you meet Bad Boy Kai in “Amnesia,” sheathed in leather and a mullet (a hairstyle that continues to be one of the greatest things ever to happen to K-pop) and leaning into noble sacrifice: “Forget me before I know you,” he says. How can you?

We pass through scores of mirrors, each with a different version of Kai as he croons, “Don’t think about anything else.” He holds this attention until the mirrors open into a vast landscape. Now, he is the one looking at a mirror of his own — clad in lace and soft whites and vocalizing his desires openly, “Nothing On Me” is his version of suave vulnerability. The story ends on “Ride Or Die,” a throwback to yesteryears with its heavy, sensual synths and noir setup. It’s a full circle moment; this Kai is the same one we get a glimpse of within the first few seconds of the film, as a hologram. All this while, the mirrors that pull us through the songs have been windows, a journey through the hallways of Kai’s mind, ending in the confident reassurance that he will “ride or die” with us, till the end.

“[I wanted to show] that I can do anything and that anything is possible,” he says. “It’s the connection between teleportation and the limitless possibilities that I have as an artist, as Kai. I wanted to showcase that all of these different sides are Kai, are myself.” And he learned a lot about himself in the process of making the album. “To be honest, I was pretty stressed preparing for all of this on my own, but I think I learned a lot about myself throughout this process. Not just myself as an artist, but [also] a lot about myself as a person: my personality, how I deal with stress, and just... what I’m like as a human being.”

Teleportation is an apt comparison for Kai’s continued interest in embracing other art forms and expanding his artistic lexicon. If that comes with playing with the constraints of conventional style, fashion, and masculinity, then so be it. Like his artistry, his sartorial expression is boundless: whether it’s the slew of crop tops worn to highlight the chorus in “Don’t Mess Up My Tempo”, which gave us one of the most memorable fan-cams of 2018; to the shirtless red suit for “Love Shot” that, frankly, deserves its own museum; to the soft yet dangerous combination of flaming red and lace he’s sporting in the highlight medley for Kai. Every outfit is the period at the end of his words, mapping out his own zeitgeist.

“As my career progressed, fashion itself became a way to express myself on stage and the being that I am,” he says. “It's not just about expressing the song or the concept itself. I think it’s really important for me to try new things and have people notice what I've been trying. I actually want people to look back on the styles that I've tried as an example for them to reference later on. Fashion has become a really important thing for me to develop myself.”

At the heart of these many concepts, of both his Kai persona and his life as Jongin, is movement. Kim Jongin and Kai share a fundamental receptiveness to the world, and of course, a singular, synchronous rhythm that has become the bedrock of his artistry, whether as part of EXO or out on his own.

“When I was younger and I first started dancing, I think I just simply loved dancing itself. I was immersed in the art of dancing,” he says. “I loved doing it, but I think as I've progressed as a performer, as my career has grown, dancing has not only become something I love to do, but it's also become a tool [to] express myself on stage and to audiences. Dancing has been part of more than half of my life now. It’s like a friend that I can't live without.”

source: Tanu I. Raj @ Teen Vogue

[dailyexo]

[INTERVIEW] Kai - 201203 Teen Vogue: “The Powerful, Limitless Kai”

"EXO member Kai unpacks his solo debut, artistry, and how he learned to express himself.

“I wanted to show that Kai is limitless,” 26-year-old Kim Jongin, better known by his stage name Kai, tells Teen Vogue of his newly-released debut self-titled album. The word is multifaceted, conjuring up an unfettered existence or an endless void, as terrifying as it is appealing.

Kai leans toward the latter. His voice — soft, restrained, thoughtful, and at times giddy during our interview — is an anchor in that wide open space. He’s quite excited about the idea of limitlessness, of existing on more than one plane, of proving you’re more than one thing.

Kai, out November 30, is just the first step.

“Over the years I've been in the industry, many people have seen me as a member of EXO. I have performed in front of our EXO fans and SuperM fans. This is the first time I'm actually releasing something under my own name,” he says. “I want to show people who Kai is through this album. The name Kai means ‘to open’. So, I want it to be open and show a new side of me.”

The year was 2012 when EXO debuted with an intensely mythological, high-concept origin story. Shortly after the heart of the Tree of Life dried up due to the red forces’ incessant attacks, Kai descended to Earth — along with the rest of the members of EXO — as part of the legends that “see the same sky but shall stand on different grounds, shall stand on the same ground but shall see different skies.” (A parallel to EXO’s original split into two groups, one focused on China’s pop market, the other on Korea’s.) Each member has his own superpower, and Kai’s is teleportation, although he doesn’t always know what to do with it. During the music video for “Lucky One," the rest of EXO use their powers to fend off villains, but Kai breaks out into dance. (Though if you’ve seen Kai dance, you’ll know that’s as much a superpower as anything.)

That may be Kai’s beginning, but he was brought to life by Kim Jongin, the youngest of three siblings, who grew up in Suncheon, South Korea, with an early interest in ballet and jazz dance. Taking on the persona of Kai at 17 years old, he began to set the framework for what he’d soon become known for: a fluid, captivating dance style infused with seemingly endless confidence, smirking through concept changes with ease. As EXO’s popularity hit the stratosphere shortly after their single “Growl” — with performances on world stages like the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics, the multi-million selling 9-member group remains one of the most revered acts in modern-day K-pop — so did Kai’s reputation as one of the most enigmatic performers in Korean idol music.

Duality is one of K-pop’s favorite concepts, and the endearing dichotomy between Kai and Jongin is a perfect example of where the person and the artist diverge. On stage, Kai paints a mysterious picture, flitting from lithe self-possession to seductive swagger, to borderline arrogance. Off stage, however, Jongin is uncharacteristically shy: he blushes when complimented by his group members, often forgets his own passwords (and asks friends to help out), and is obsessed with his niece and nephew.

While every gaze, every spin, every step with Kai is intentional, Kim Jongin is as free of the bounds of pretense as it gets. It could be as easy as turning a switch on or off, but that would be doing Kai’s ethos a disservice. It’s subliminal. “Kai is me in my dream state,” he says. “When I'm sleeping, it's like my dream character comes alive, and that would be Kai. I’m more of a normal, down-to-earth person. That's just me, but Kai is this persona that's on stage… I do notice that when I'm dancing and pulling off all these different concepts, [I’m] like a totally different person outside of myself doing that.”

And if EXO member Kai is one type of persona, solo performer Kai is another. He previewed Kai with a short film song-sampler, in which he “teleports” through a cinematic thoroughfare of concepts, each one diving deeper. In “Hello Stranger,” his voice is the lighthouse in the storm of the bustling city, asking to talk about the things that overwhelm you. “Reason” is a modern-day fairytale, with Kai as the quirky, attention-grabbing prince in a sea of droning conversations and pretentious debutantes. Hold his hand, turn the corner, and you meet Bad Boy Kai in “Amnesia,” sheathed in leather and a mullet (a hairstyle that continues to be one of the greatest things ever to happen to K-pop) and leaning into noble sacrifice: “Forget me before I know you,” he says. How can you?

We pass through scores of mirrors, each with a different version of Kai as he croons, “Don’t think about anything else.” He holds this attention until the mirrors open into a vast landscape. Now, he is the one looking at a mirror of his own — clad in lace and soft whites and vocalizing his desires openly, “Nothing On Me” is his version of suave vulnerability. The story ends on “Ride Or Die,” a throwback to yesteryears with its heavy, sensual synths and noir setup. It’s a full circle moment; this Kai is the same one we get a glimpse of within the first few seconds of the film, as a hologram. All this while, the mirrors that pull us through the songs have been windows, a journey through the hallways of Kai’s mind, ending in the confident reassurance that he will “ride or die” with us, till the end.

“[I wanted to show] that I can do anything and that anything is possible,” he says. “It’s the connection between teleportation and the limitless possibilities that I have as an artist, as Kai. I wanted to showcase that all of these different sides are Kai, are myself.” And he learned a lot about himself in the process of making the album. “To be honest, I was pretty stressed preparing for all of this on my own, but I think I learned a lot about myself throughout this process. Not just myself as an artist, but [also] a lot about myself as a person: my personality, how I deal with stress, and just... what I’m like as a human being.”

Teleportation is an apt comparison for Kai’s continued interest in embracing other art forms and expanding his artistic lexicon. If that comes with playing with the constraints of conventional style, fashion, and masculinity, then so be it. Like his artistry, his sartorial expression is boundless: whether it’s the slew of crop tops worn to highlight the chorus in “Don’t Mess Up My Tempo”, which gave us one of the most memorable fan-cams of 2018; to the shirtless red suit for “Love Shot” that, frankly, deserves its own museum; to the soft yet dangerous combination of flaming red and lace he’s sporting in the highlight medley for Kai. Every outfit is the period at the end of his words, mapping out his own zeitgeist.

“As my career progressed, fashion itself became a way to express myself on stage and the being that I am,” he says. “It's not just about expressing the song or the concept itself. I think it’s really important for me to try new things and have people notice what I've been trying. I actually want people to look back on the styles that I've tried as an example for them to reference later on. Fashion has become a really important thing for me to develop myself.”

At the heart of these many concepts, of both his Kai persona and his life as Jongin, is movement. Kim Jongin and Kai share a fundamental receptiveness to the world, and of course, a singular, synchronous rhythm that has become the bedrock of his artistry, whether as part of EXO or out on his own.

“When I was younger and I first started dancing, I think I just simply loved dancing itself. I was immersed in the art of dancing,” he says. “I loved doing it, but I think as I've progressed as a performer, as my career has grown, dancing has not only become something I love to do, but it's also become a tool [to] express myself on stage and to audiences. Dancing has been part of more than half of my life now. It’s like a friend that I can't live without.”"

Credit: Teen Vogue.

[shephardofthedamned]

Mun: So, I'm a fan of the SCP Foundation, & wrote some SCP classifications for the three protagonists of Bioshock. & since this is essentially my BioShock blog, I thought why not share them here.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

SCP-123: 'One-man army '

Class: Euclid

SCP-123 is a middle aged man, of slightly above average height, with auburn hair & green eyes, & multiple scars all over his body, always wearing a worn-out, red ascot, with DNA tests showing her is of Native American descent. He has a burn scar on his right hand forming the letters A.D, although no cause for this scar is known, or what it stands for. He claims to have come from the year 1912, & his clothing reflects that belief, as well as his lack of knowledge of history pass 1912, & his supposed uncertainty with modern technologies. He also claims that his name is Booker DeWitt, & he is a private detective, opperating from his office at ◽◽◽ New York NY, although no such place has been proven to exist. 123 seems to possess great knowledge of warfare, is able to handle almost any weapon given to him, excels at hand-to-hand combat, & has the ability to summon a Murder of Crows from the palm of his left hand. Although docile, & able to be held a conversation with, 123 is prone to mood-swings, & will become erratic & angry if away from SCP-◽◽◽ (basically Elizabeth) for long periods of time. If this happens, he can often be heard screaming 'give me back my daughter,' despite there seeming to be no familial connection between 123 & ◽◽◽.

123 can regenerate any & all wounds he sustains within seconds, as long he is fed enough, eating at least four times as much as a regular human. He still feels pain, & all testing done on him to gauge how far his regenerative abilities could go, was stopped once it was deemed too inhumane. On rare occasions, if he is to be shot with a gun or hit with a metallic object, the bullet or object will be redirected as if SCP-123 had a shield surrounding him, although no such thing had ever been documented, & 123 hasn't made a mention of it.

Standard containment procedure for humanoids is to be employed. 123 is allowed access to any form of entertainment he might ask for, particularly musical instruments, & he is allowed to roam the facility he is being held at while under surveillance to ensure he doesn't destroy or attack anything out of anger or panic.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

SCP-1960 'Would you kindly'

Class: Euclid

SCP-1960 takes on the form of a four year old called Jack, who's body resembles that of a blond & brown-eyed, muscular 20 something year old, possessing inhuman strength & speed, as well as a particularly high IQ & the ability to shoot electricity from the palm of his left hand. Despite his appearance, skin tissue samples have proven that he is no more than 4 years old.

Despite his capabilities, 1960 has never been observed using them in combat or otherwise, unless he is instructed you do so by the phrase 'would you kindly.' When used, the phrase causes him to carry out the instructions with a one track mind, stopping at nothing to carry it out & acting as if hypnotised, not responding to a word or action directed at him.

SCP-1960 was found in a lab, situated underneath a lighthouse in the Atlantic ocean at ◽◽◽ coordinates. No sign of life other than him was detected, yet the lab appeared to be recently abandoned. When asked about it, 1960 does not remember the lab, claiming that he comes from a farm in ◽◽◽ USA, & that his parents are waiting for him. He also claims he was visiting some cousins in England, when his plane crashed in the Atlantic, not long before the foundation had found him.

SCP-1960 is to be held in a typical humanoid containment cell, & provided with daily activities to challenge his genius-level intellect. The trigger phrase is not to be uttered around him, & any personnel found to be breaking that rule will be removed from their position & become a Class-D.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

SCP-004 'Delta'

Class: Keter

SCP-004 is an old, rusty diving suit, suspected to be from around the 1950s, with the Greek symbol Delta Δ inscribed on the backs of it's gloves. It is fully sentient, proving to understand human speech, writing, & being able to communicate itself through a basic form of sign. The glass of the helmet has also been proven to glow different colours based on what 004 is feeling, such as green for when it is content, or red for when it is angry.

SCP-004 was found walking along the bottom of the Atlantic ocean at ◽◽◽ coordinates, not far from the lighthouse where SCP-1960 'Would you kindly' was found. Upon interrogation, 004 disclosed that it was looking for something, & that it urgently needed to find this thing, but did not say what exactly it was that it searched for.

004 is completely hollow, with there being no traces of a body ever inhabiting the suit. 004 has been proven to get violent if the suit was tried to be opened, but on rare occasions that it was managed & a Class-D was forced in, the subject recalled seeing flashes of memories of a surgery, & felt as if their organs were being grafted into the suit & their mind was being wiped & recoded to be obedient & follow a simple set of rules, which they forgot immediately after leaving the suit. On even rarer occasions, when the Class-D wasn't removed in time, 004 completely absorbed their body, leaving nothing behind.

Although not usually violent, & capable of human thought, 004 would get angry & erratic if not allowed to carry on with its search, proving to be very difficult to contain. A satellite is currently following its movements as it continues to traverse the seas.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

So, this isn't the best. My knowledge of SCP isn't very extensive, but I hope this was at least a little bit interesting.

[myelocin]

love, but make it ours

synopsis: flights to london to you meant gateways to a new world, but add in tetsurou, some dumb jokes, text messages, and balloons, only reminds you the reasons why that unknown is simply, home. 

characters: kuroo tetsurou, you

genre/warnings: kuroo lives in london lol, pianist!reader, fluff, flight stuff ;w;

wc: 1.2k+

a/n: this is for @mrs-kuroojinguji | i whipped this up when i was waiting for the twins to fall asleep earlier. i can’t stop thinking ab how proud i am of you, so here’s a reminder of that. ily!

-

you come to love tetsurou like the way you fall in love with the measures of a score you swore to yourself you hated.

“but what if i show up at the airport with balloons instead of flowers?” he says, voice a little muffled over the phone, though his laugh crystal clear.

“i would walk the other way,” you answer and push your face closer to the front camera to emphasize the irritation from your expression.

“harsh,” tetsurou replies but laughs anyway when you stick your tongue out.  you laugh, then lean back on your seat.

you watch him shift his attention away from the phone screen and focus on typing something in his laptop instead. golden hour must have hit in london and his window must have faced the west because the rays of sun are beginning to trickle in and form a backdrop behind tetsurou. he looks almost otherworldly—you think. almost like a prince out of the fairy tale books you used to read. inky black hair, hazel eyes that look almost golden paired with the light, sharp nose, and a mouth that was constantly set to a smirk.

you swear every time it wouldn’t take much for you to swoon. but then he belts out a laugh that has even you laughing with him, then snorts in the way you know he only does when he’s comfortable enough with his company so you allow yourself to relax, then reevaluate.

kuroo tetsurou is every bit of a prince charming as he is just a boy from tokyo who happened to be your best friend. his eyes flicker towards you when he feels your stare and shoots you a smirk that has you inwardly swooning. then, he cracks a joke about how irresistible he must be for you to keep looking so you roll your eyes and bark back a half meant insult that shuts him up with a pout, then a chuckle.

and just like that you’re reminded why you’re in love.

-

“i swear, ana, you’ll find me as soon as you arrive,” he reassures you when you tell him to  not do anything dumb at the airport when he picks you up later.

“i genuinely don’t believe you,” you tell him as you stand up, grab your ticket and make your way to the gate.

“that’s on you,” tetsurou says and from what you could see he’s pushing his laptop to the side and folding his arms in front of the phone screen as he stares right at you. he’s smiling in that soft way again and you stick your tongue out to prevent yourself from swooning.

“safe flight, love,” he says and his voice thrums deeply in your earpiece.

“i’ll see you soon,” you tell him and return his stare. deep brown against hazel—the colors in contrast, but the warmth identical.

“i love you,” tetsurou’s voice reminds you again, and you smile.

“i love you too.”

-

kuroo tetsurou is the halfhearted joke that grounds you when the world feels too small yet too big at the same time. when he kisses you and wraps you in his arms on the days you feel the most lost, his eyes become the lighthouse that guides you back home without a hitch.

so you suppose that’s the quality that makes his love feel more surreal as the days go by.

you’re seated on the window seat of a plane and every second you’re up in the air, it reminds you of the increasing distance that separates you from home. you watch from your seat as the skies begin their show. of how the clouds dance with the swirls of the dipping sun and how the horizon lays still as the birds tiptoe across worlds of land and sea.

your heart feels heavy in the way that confuses you if whether it means a good or bad thing.

“i’m proud of you,” you hear tetsurou’s voice remind you again when you clutch your chest as the emotions begin to whirl.

“i’m always going to be your number one fan,” you hear him again and as sky erupts in almost a fire like dance, you suddenly remember the feeling of being on stage.

climbing with the crescendo as the keys on the piano give with every push of a finger and tap of the pedal. you remember the feeling of losing yourself in the symphony before locking eyes with tetsurou who watches you like he’s watching the angels play the melodies to salvation themselves.

you smile; because you realize how good it feels to be loved like he loves you.

“i love you,” you read his voice as you open your phone and see the message he manages to slip in before you switched your phone to airplane mode. he sends a photo of himself with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a corner of a handmade sign he was working on.

you know it’s probably gonna say something that’s going to make you laugh instead of swoon at, but you suppose that’s just one of his charms that reminds you why you love him.

the sky outside dips into a magnified blue—like how the deepest parts of the ocean must look from above. and for a second you think you’re peering into the sea instead of the sky.

in a way it’s kind of beautiful—because it reminds you of the fact that in a few hours you’re landing into a world you’re both excited yet scared of.

at first, you think you don’t know how to feel but when you flip your phone and see the wallpaper. the photo of tetsurou you took when you saw him half asleep at the piano one morning practicing a song he wanted to learn for you.

then, you’re reminded of all the reasons why you’re excited.

kuroo tetsurou pulls you back home just like that.

-

“i warned you so you can’t be mad at me,” is what he says when you push through the mass of people and spot him standing at the front, a bouquet of the flowers he knows are your favorite in one hand, and the other ten strings of the brightest blue balloons he could find.

“you’re ridiculous,” you laugh but run towards him anyway and automatically bury your face in his neck when he pulls you into a hug.

“you can’t get a refund if you return me, love,” he laughs against your hair.

“wasn’t planning on getting one,” you say and pull away to look at him.

london did him some good; you realize. his bed hair, though still present, mellowed out in a way that looks—styled, almost. his shoulders a little wider and arms just a bit more toned.

“been working out?” you ask and he laughs.

“gotta impress the girlfriend,” he answers and you fight the urge to poke the slight indention of his dimple when he beams at you.

“you don’t need to do much,” you smile.

“is london making you all soft on me? you’ve been here only ten minutes,” he says again and you hit his chest as you laugh again.

“i just love you, that’s all.”

you look at him as you say that and your heart beats when you see his eyes soften. you’re suddenly reminded of how loved you are. 

-

kuroo tetsurou is like the measures of a piece you swore you hated but eventually come to love. because, despite him arriving in a whirlwind in the midst of all your fears—he’s the first to show you how to love through that and still stay.

love, to some may be sunshine and endless kisses but to you, it meant balloon jokes and soft smiles with a boy who looked at you like you were the world with his golden eyes.

and he always, always, has a way of making you feel right at home.

-

a/n: hi ana, my love ;w; i’m so proud and so excited for your journey. i cannot wait to see you take on the world. always will be here for you, and that’s a promise. love you!

[mikkomacko]

Sweet As Honey 13

For years, her house has been empty, a void for just her and Jack. Harry had done as she asked, and disappeared. Gemma went off to school, and then work, only showing up every few days to make sure Anne was still alive. It wasn't the same, nothing was the same without Harry there. He held them together. And now he's gone, living God knows where with God knows who, hurting people for a living. If boxing is what he's still doing.

The faucet is running, steam rising up from the sink and towards the water stained ceiling. It's been leaking for some time, but Anne's done nothing to stop the water. It the house collapses, maybe she'll be lucky enough for it to happen while Jack's home.

She can hear him chuckling along to the tv in the living room, and her bum throbs remembering the way he'd smacked it when she stepped in front of the TV earlier to collect his dinner plate. She starts to scrub at the dirty dishes, not minding the way the water burns her skin. Behind her, the skillet boils with water to get rid of the buildup of grease in it, and the sound of it pulls her into a sort of daydream. She can't help but think of Harry, her baby boy. She wonders if he's okay, if he's made something of himself. She'd like to think he has, but she just doesn't see how boxing could've gotten him anything. He's probably on the streets or living out of friends home, scraping by. He's probably lonely and afraid. Her eyes sting with tears and she doesn't realize she's dropped a wine glass until it's shattering by her feet.

She gasps, jumping back and wincing when a sharp sting cuts through the heel of her foot. She's stepped on a piece of the glass. Her foot is not her main concern though, because she can hear the recliner spring into place and Jack's heavy steps.

"For fucks sake!" Jack bellows, and he's grabbing Anne's shoulder and shoving get back. She feels paralyzed as the base of her spine rattles against the countertop, and her elbow bumps over the cookbooks and cutting board and paper towel rack on the counter. They clatter loudly, and Jack swears again as he focuses on Anne's trembling figure.

"I-it was an accident-"

"You were thinking of that stupid boy again!" Jack accuses, and he's not wrong, but Anne doesn't admit it. Because Harry's not stupid, not like she once thought he was.

"N-No! I'm just tired!" He grabs her elbow again, throwing her into the wall by the entrance way. Her side smacks into the wall, bones rattling painfully and she sobs.

"Stop lying to me!" Jack screams, face turning purple under his grey beard. He kicks the glass on the floor, the fragile material crunching under his boot. It slides against the floor unit it's about to hit her feet, and she screeches. Jack is glaring at her like she's the actual devil, and she knows it's only a matter of seconds before he storms at her. Without thinking she takes off out of the kitchen and down the hall, running into the bathroom and locking the door.

"ANNE!" Jack roars, boots beating against the creaky floor. He pounds his fist into the door, the plane of wood trembling under his anger. Anne does the same, stumbling backwards and falling into the tub. The curtain comes down with her weight, falling underneath her as she sobs and shakes. She wishes she had her phone, wishes Jack hadn't taken it and stomped on it with his heel for texting Gemma about Harry.

Her vision blurs around her, blocking out everything but the quaking door, and Anne can't help but think of Harry. It's been so many years, so many long years, but she knows if he were here he'd be standing in front of that door to protect her.

"Harry, Harry, Harry..." She mutters like a prayer, squeezing her eyes shut as the smoke alarm starts to blare throughout the house. Anne flinches, whimpering and holding her hands over her ears. This isn't real, this is Jack. He set them off to try and get her to come out. She squeezes her eyes shut, mumbling her son's name until she feels like she's in a dream. Eventually the smell of smoke fills the bathroom, burning her lungs, but she's too stuck in her brain too move. She doesn't know how long she's sat there, coughing and choking out his name as she realizes she's going to die. She's going to die and it's all because she let Jack tear her family apart, hurt her babies. She's a terrible mother, she deserves to die.

Anne's head pounds, and bile rises in her throat. The banging on the door gets stronger, and Anne screams when it busts open. Someone speaks over the alarm and what sounds like sirens, but she can't hear them. Arms wrap around her, and she trembles and scratches, desperate to be let free, to be released.

Eventually she's drug out of the house, realizing that the house is in fact burning in orange flames. Firefighters are working to put it out, and she finally sees that one of them is who's holding her. "Ma'am, I need you to take a deep breath, you're okay!" The firefighter shouts in her ear, setting her on some vehicle and lifting an oxygen mask over her face.

"Who's Harry? Is he inside?" The man asks, and Anne realizes she's still crying for her son.

"My son, he's gone, I made him leave!" She cries, "I need my son, my baby-my son-"

Arms wrap around her again, and she sobs in the strangers hold. She doesn't know where Jack is, but she doesn't care. She needs to find Harry.

She thinks she hears Jack in the background, but again she doesn't know. And she doesn't know that after tonight, Jack will be arrested for domestic violence, a restraining order placed against him, Gemma will move Anne into her home, and together, they'll find Harry.

~

His stomach bubbles and twists, churning as Anne falls silent. The only sound in the room are soft snores coming out of Arlo's sleeping figure. Y/n is rubbing a smoothing circle into his shoulder blade with the hand that's not holding their son against her chest, and while it does help, it doesn't help enough. Because he's still mad. He's really fucking mad and he's not entirely sure why. He doesn't really have any reason to be other than the fact that Anne and Gemma never told him anything. They had so many chances to say something to him, literally anything along the lines of "our childhood home was lit on fire" would've worked. But they never did. Even when they knew he was coming back here, they expected him to just not find out? To not want to go back there?

Harry nibbles on the rough patch of skin on his thumb, nostrils flaring as he tries to calm his thundering veins. He doesn't want to yell at them or fight. He's tired of fighting. He wants everything to be okay now, wants to have a normal family now.

Like the beam of a lighthouse through fog, y/n and Arlo flood through his mind. Her hand feels heavier on his back, seeping into the tense muscles with warmth, and Arlo's snores vibrate in his chest and head. Finally, he removes his thumb from his mouth, running his hand through his hair.

"M'going to bed," he mumbles, purposely not looking at Anne or Gemma as he climbs up from the kitchen floor. Careful not to step on the leftover pizza box that liters the floor, he reaches down to help y/n up, pushing her hair out of Arlo's face so he continues to sleep peacefully.

"Harry-"

"G'night." He interrupts Gemma, stepping away from them and into the living room that now only contains their air mattress and bags. He hears y/n bidding good nights and sharing hushed words with them as he roughly tugs off his shoes and jeans, throwing them in the direction of his bag. Y/n walks in, Arlo still resting limply against her, and carefully lays him in the middle of the bed.

Harry slides onto the bed, turning his back to the kitchen where Anne and Gemma are quietly cleaning up the pizza they'd brought for dinner and then heading to their rooms. He lays his palm over Arlo's tummy, eyes lazily falling over his baby as his little lips part with heavy breathes and how his eyelashes touch his cheeks. Y/n disappears into the bathroom, returning a few minutes later in her pajamas. She's quiet as she climbs into the bed, turning on her side to face Harry.

"Don't be too mad at them bubba," she says quietly, reaching over to rub her fingers up and down his arm. He meets her eyes, heat pooling in his chest at her heavy eyelids and frowning lips. And while she'll always be an angelic sight, especially when she's falling asleep next to him, he can't help but be annoyed with her words. She's knows him better than anyone, but she doesn't know how this feels, doesn't know what it's like to not be a part of a family, because she's always had a perfect one.

He just huffs, nuzzling his head further into his pillow and letting his eyes fall shut. He doesn't want to pick a fight with her, and he knows if he responds honestly at all they'll end up somewhere he doesn't want to be now. Y/n doesn't respond, but he hears her sigh and then leave over to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. Her hand continues to stroke his arm, soothing him into the same snores coming from Arlo.

~

He doesn't button the top three buttons of his shirt, not wanting to feel suffocated more than he already is. Arlo, who's sat in the bathroom sink with Bunny, coos at Harry, little hand reaching out to touch his silk shirt. He's always loved to touch Harry's silk clothes.

"We look nice, huh?" Harry mururms, looking down at Arlo's big eyes. He's in a plain white shirt that buttons between his legs with dark brown pants over his legs and little white vans that are so small they don't even tie. Arlo smiles, a gummy little grin that sinks dimples into his face, and smacks his hand against Harry's tummy.

"Not very talkative tonight bug," Harry says, running his hand through his hair before lifting Arlo out of the sink. Arlo lays his head on his shoulder, rubbing his cheek against the soft fabric. "ya babbled and babbled yesterday."

Arlo just sighs as Harry exits the bathroom, and he thinks that's an accurate response to the mess that was yesterday. First Zayn, and then the house, and then Anne and Gemma and even y/n treating Harry like he had no reason to be upset. Yesterday was a bad day, Harry thinks dejectedly.

Y/n is setting folded clothes into her bag, straightening out the summer dress she's changed into. It's billowy and white, just boarding on see through, and Harry's heart pounds in his ears. She looks angelic.

"You ready to go?" Y/n asks, having turned to face them. She's got a sad little smile on her lips, obviously upset that Harry's been short with her all day. Harry nods, grabbing his keys off the empty fireplace mantle. He doesn't know where Gemma and Anne are but he doesn't care. They know that the dinner reservations are at 7 and they'll either be there or they won't.

Y/n exits the house, swinging the door back even though she knows Harry's coming out behind her, and he catches it last minute, the wood smacking against his palm so loudly Arlo jumps. Harry huffs, nose flaring but he shushes Arlo into snuggling back up against his shoulder.

Anne and Gemma, who were sitting on the porch steps, follow y/n to the car, an uncomfortable bubble of silence surrounding them as y/n closes her door and the other two women climb in. Harry grunts, frustrated because he really doesn't want to fight with y/n, she knows he hates fighting with her, and yet she's still pushing his buttons.

"Buying dinner for three intolerable women," Harry mutters to Arlo, who bumps his little nose into Harry's chin as he moves to look at him. "and one honey bug." He quickly adds, pleased to have his boy with him. He pulls open the door, ignoring Anne and Gemma's gaze as he buckles Arlo into his carseat. He whines when he's out of touching range of Harry, cheeks going red and tears welling in his eyes.

"Don't give me any back talk mister," Harry mutters, tightening his shoulder straps. "s'only a ten minute drive."

Arlo continues to cry, the sound being heard outside the vehicle Harry quickly gets in, buckling his seatbelt and starting the car. Harry backs out of the driveway, waiting for them to get on the main road before reaching over the center console for y/n's hand. He hers her sigh, but she doesn't hesitate to lace her fingers through his.

~

The words of his textbook stare back at him, going on and on about anti-federalists but Harry can't really get any of it to stick in his brain. He's reread this chapter twice tonight and it still hasn't registered in his brain how exactly the federalists and anti-federalists compromised because Jack's slurring loudly from the kitchen.

Harry sighs, tossing his book onto his mattress and climbing up. He pulls open the door open his bedroom, leaning against the frame when he finds his mom mopping in the hallway.

"Mum," he murmurs quietly, catching her attention. She looks up at him, haltering her movements. "I can't study with him bloody screaming."

Anne blinks at him, tired face falling and she nods. Harry gives her a sympathetic smile, and Anne calls out over her shoulder, "Jack, could you lower it a bit? Harry's got a test to study for!"

The shouting stops, and both Harry and Anne smile in relief. He's about to turn back into his room when Jack enters the hallway.

"What did you say?" Jack asks, and Harry knows by the way he's looking at Anne that he'd threatening her to repeat herself.

"I'm trying to study and you're being too loud." Harry says bitterly, glaring at the man down the hall. Jack's eyes flash up to Harry, head cocking.

"Life's unfair kid, get used to it."

"Jack-"

"Shut up Anne!"

Harry's pushing himself off the doorway before he can properly think, pushing Anne to stand him behind him. "Don't talk to her like that." Harry warns, teeth clenching.

"Don't tell me how to talk to my wife-"

"Don't talk to my mother that way!"

Anne grabs Harry's shoulder, trying to pull him back before the rising tension gets too high. Unfortunately, she's not quick enough.

"Tell your mother to stop being a bitch-"

Jack's sentence is cut off by the loud crunch of Harry's fist colliding with his nose. The man stumbles back, shocked, but Harry doesn't give him a chance to recoup before he's swinging again. Anne let's a shrill scream of Harry's name, but it falls on deaf ears as he clambers on top of the crumpled man. Harry's stuck in a haze of pent up anger and hurt and hatred, and he's taking it all out on Jack.

Harry can't feel his hands as they continuously fall down onto Jack's face, his brain going through the simple boxing technique he's been perfecting for weeks. Right, left, right, right, left...

Jack's hands press at Harry's torso and claw at his forearms, but he's gone weak. Too much blood is staining his shirt and smearing against his face. Too much blood is splattering off of Harry's bare knuckles. He's not sure how long he continues to rain hell on Jack until two hands are ripping him off by the waist, and the shouts of Anne and Gemma are filling his head.

Gemma throws him back with a strength he didn't know she had, cursing under her breath as she rushes forward to kneel by Jack. Harry's chest heaves, and his knuckles throb painfully but he feels good. He feels really fucking good. A smirk is tugging up the corner of his lips as he turns to his mother.

"Mum-"

"No Harry!" She spits, eyes blazing with rage. The pride, the accomplished feeling that was puffing in his chest fades, and he deflates.

"Wha'?" He mumbles, feeling dizzy as Anne grips his bicep harshly and shoves him in the direction of his room.

"Look at what you've done!" She screams, throwing her arms out wildly. Behind her, Gemma's carrying a groaning and almost unconscious Jack towards the bathroom. "Look at what you've done to my family!"

Harry's head swirls, stumbling into the doorway. His hands pound and ache, so bad he thinks cutting them off wouldn't hurt as much. "F-family?" Harry stutters, confused as to how she can call this a family. He's not even sure why she's mad. What did he do wrong? He stood up for her? He's getting rid of the man that's tormented them for so long.

"Mum, what-"

"Stop Harry! You're not-you're not my Harry!" Anne snarls, looking Harry up and down as if he were loam. "My Harry would never do that! He doesn't even know how to fight like that!"

Harry's heart pounds, pressing into his ribs so hard it hurts. "I-I am your Harry, I just-I just can protect us now. I box mum, I got strong for us." He desperately explains, tears building in his eyes at the way Anne continues to glare at him.

"You box?" She gasps, shaking her head in disgust. "No! No child of mine would be like you!"

"Mum, why-"

"Stop calling me that!" Anne shouts, so loud the floor seems to shake under Harry's feet. The tears spill over, tumbling down his cheeks and he goes to wipe them until he sees the excessive amount of blood on his hands.

"Please-"

"You need to leave!" Anne tells him cruelly, shoving him into his room. Sobbing and weak he stumbles to the floor, looking up at Anne in fear.

"What? Where?"

"I don't care. Anywhere but here!" She slams his door shut, ignoring the way he wails and furiously rips off his blood stained shirt to try and clean his hands. He rubs his knuckles furiously, tearing at the already cut skin until it's his own blood that's covering them, but he doesn't care because it still doesn't hurt the way his heart does.

~

Dishes clatter as the waitress stacks their plates up. Arlo squirms in Harry's hold as he wipes his face with a napkin, only for Arlo to blop a spit bubble out onto his chin. Harry huffs, sliding his plate towards the waitress and his chest sinks when he sees the pile of green beans on it. Usually y/n takes them, but tonight she'd just left them on his plate, not that he can blame her. One) they're disgusting, and two) there's still an uncomfortable tension between them. One that's been present all night, limiting conversation to just y/n, Anne, and Gemma, or Harry, Arlo, and y/n. And even y/n was quiet when talking to him.

Harry starts to settle Arlo into his carseat, pausing when the waitress comes back to give the check. Harry doesn't hesitate to send her with his card, grumbling an "mhm" when Anne and Gemma quietly thank him. He buckles Arlo in, tucking his blanket around him because it's cold out, and then grabbing the diaper bag from under the table.

"I've got it love." Y/n murmurs, taking the bag from him and pulling it over her shoulder. He thanks her, lifting Arlo's carseat in his hand and leading the girls out of the restaurant. He holds the door for them, looking down at Arlo so he doesn't have to look at them. The door has barely shut when he hears a startled gasp, his head snapping up to look over the line of girls. He immediately hands the carseat to who's closest, Gemma being the one to grab Arlo and Harry pushes to stand in front of his family. His fingers clench into fists, shoulders tensing up as he glares at the man in front of him.

"You're still around then?" Jack chuckles, looking Harry up and down with a smirk.

"Yeah. M'glad can't I say the same about you." Harry easily replies. He doesn't know how Jack's here, after what happened he should be in jail still. "Suppose it's hard to stay around with a restraining order against ya."

Jack clicks his tongue, jaw clenching. "Suppose you won't be around for long considering that temper of yours. How long before you hurt another family member, huh? Maybe that baby of yours?"

He takes a step forward, fury flooding through him and he feels proud when Jack takes a step back. "Don't fucking talk about my family. You were never family, you were a drunk prick that used and hurt my family!"

Jack scoffs, eyes blazing in the same way that haunted his dreams for so long. "I fixed your family after that father of yours left a fucking mess behind! Imagine the life you'd have if you hadn't almost killed me!"

"I wish I had fucking killed you!" Harry spits, "You abused her for years, you sent Gemma away after you fucking lied to her, you stole the fucking money from me, you kept them from my wedding and from my child! You deserve to die!"

Jack stalks forward, standing so close to Harry there's toes touch, and he glares into Harry's eyes. Harry's so mad he thinks he could beat him to a pulp again, until he's gasping for breath and begging Harry to stop.

"Then do it Styles." Jack spits, and Harry knows what he's doing. He's trying to break him. Either Harry beats him like he wants to, and he more than likely ends up in prison, or he loses his family. The last time he hit him he lost everything.

Jack shoves him back, spurring him on and Harry hates that he's got no choice here. Before anyone can move a muscle or Harry can even think of what to say someone is pulling him back, and stepping in front of him.

"Don't fucking touch my husband!" Y/n snarls, so menacing that even Harry falters. And that little falter is enough time for her to cock her fist back and throw it into Jack's jaw. Harry's eyes widen, and Gemma and Anne gasp as Jack's head snaps to the right. Y/n immediately curses, bringing her hand to her chest and wiggling in that way she does when she's hurt.

"Fuck," Harry mutters, grabbing her by the waist and tugging her back. Jack gathers his bearings, glaring at y/n with a busted lip and storming towards her.

"You little bit-" he's cut off by Harry's fist, this time the hit so hard he crumples to the sidewalk with a thud.

"Oh my God," y/n mumbles, and Harry knows Jack's out cold so he turns to y/n. She's silently crying and looking down at her left hand in shock. Harry reaches for it, apologizing when she winces. Her knuckle is cut, and her hands already swelling.

"Gotta take this off baby." Harry says, carefully prying her wedding ring off. He carefully drops it into his pocket, bringing her hand up to press a kiss to it. Gemma is on the phone behind him, obviously calling the police but he keeps his attention on his wife. She sniffles, looking up at him through her wet eyelashes and her bottom lip trembles.

"I can't believe you did that." Harry whispers, reaching up to wipe her cold tears. Y/n falls into his chest, and Harry wraps an arm around her, cupping the back of her head.

"Couldn't let you risk losing them again." She mumbles into his clothes, sniffling again. His heart jumps, and he chuckles in disbelief. She's always been good at understanding him, at navigating his silence. She knew he wouldn't be the first to hit Jack because of what happened last time.

"S'a good thing I taught ya to hit then." He laughs. "and it was a bloody good hit baby." She pulls back from him, mascara smeared under her eyes and trying to flex her fingers.

"It fucking hurts," she says bitterly, "I can't believe you do this all the time."

"Usually got gloves on." Harry snickers, rubbing his thumb over the uninjured part of her hand. "I'll put some ice on it for ya, fix you right up baby."

She smiles, grateful and sniffles again. "What happened to darling?"

"You're my baby tonight, baby." He kisses the top of her head, bringing her back to his chest for a moment. "Let's get you and Arlo in the car, s'too cold out here."

She obeys, and Harry leaves Gemma and Anne with Jack, who's been detained by restaurant security. Harry loads Arlo into the car, helping y/n into the front seat. He even squishes in the seat with her, closing the door and squeezing her close to him. They stay cuddled together, neither of them speaking as Arlo starts to snore from the backseat. Harry doesn't move until the police arrive, pressing a kiss to her head. Before he leaves to go speak with the officers, he leaves her the car keys and of course, mumbles an "I love you baby."

~

His laptop sits at the edge of the bed, Lady and the Tramp playing from Disney+ as Harry ices y/n's hand. Arlo is still snoring behind them, and y/n is getting droopy on his shoulder, his own eyes feeling heavy.

"Thank you for tonight y/n." Harry mumbles, kissing the top of her head. She doesn't move, but he can feel her smile.

"Of course," she whispers, "I'd do anything for you Harry."

Her fingers gently pat his thigh, the ice rattling from the movement and Harry shushes her before she can irritate her hand more. "M'so fucking glad I never have to come back to this town again."

"Never?"

"Never," Harry confirms, "because everything I need is in our city, in our home, and in our family."

"What about your dad?"

"I think he'd be happy knowing we've all left this behind us. I've said my goodbye."

She finally lifts her head, blinking sluggishly as she kisses his cheek. "M'ready for us to go home."

"Me too baby." Harry mumbles, knowing he's already got his home with him when Arlo snorts quite loudly and y/n giggles.

[cassnottiel]

LAST ONE I PROMISE, a s5 au where owen shaw is somehow alive and kicking but he's kind of a super asshole? like his wife died and he shut down via john winchester type? and hes a super asshole to deke too? and fitzsimmons, especially after finding out deke is their grandson, r not here for it and r just hella badass

Melinda May woke up in an unknown place, with the man who sent them to the future standing over her.  She groaned and sat up.  "Where are we?"  She asked, then looked past the man (Enoch, she remembered) at the very familiar logo painted on the wall.  S.H.I.E.L.D.  "The Zephyr.  How?  What is going on?"

"They grabbed us just in time."  Enoch said in his halting, not quite natural sounding voice.  "Anchored us against the gravity storm."

"Who?"  May asked.  Enoch looked behind him, and she followed his gaze to watch two people, both their faces covered, entered whatever room they were in.  She hastily stood up, poising herself for a fight, should one break out.  

But she stopped as an old woman walked in behind the two, smiled at May, held out a small wooden bird, and said:  "I've waited such a long time to see you again."

Robin Hinton.  Her father was an Inhuman who could made people see how they died when they touched him.  She gestured for May to follow, and she started walking.  May did her best to limp after, all the way to the cockpit.  What should have been a short walk felt like Hell on her injured leg.

Sunlight shone through the windows of the Zephyr as Robin and May sat next to the controls.  The plane was a mess, but the power was still working.

"How are you here?"  May asked when they both had sat down.

Robin didn't answer right away.  She stared blankly up at a wall for several long seconds.  "There's something else I need to remember . . ." she muttered to herself, then her eyes focused and she looked at May again.  "Sorry.  What did you ask?"

May sighed.  "How are you even here?"

Robin smiled.  "I told you we'd survive the crash."  She said it she was repeating it for the thousandth time.

"The crash?"  May was not understanding in the slightest.  "I'm not sure I know what you're--"

"Don't be put out if you can't follow Robins train of thought."  May looked over at the two men who approached.  One looked vaguely familiar, the other did not.

"It's like her life is a deck of cards shuffled out of order."  The other man tried to explain.  "She's a seer, but nowadays she can't separate past, present, and future."

"My name is Samuel Voss," the first man said, then jerked his head to the side at the other man, "and this is Owen Shaw.  Sorry for the rough rescue, but you have to act fast when gravity storms start kicking up."

"Shaw?"  May asked as she shook their hands.  "Do you happen to have a kid?"

Owens frowned in confusion.  "You've met Deke?  He's alright down there?"

"He's alive."  May said.  "He didn't make a great first impression with me."  She held up her wrist, showing off the metric Deke had stabbed into her.  She let her hand drop when she noticed the others on the Zephyr covering themselves with spare cloth and picking up the large claw devices.  "You're going back out?"

"Yeah, my crew is gonna go out and collect your friends."  Voss smiled as Owen started walking away.

"Wait.  They made it to the surface?  How do you know?"  May limped forward in earnest.  

Voss looked at Robin.  "She told me.  A decade ago."  A loud explosion sounded in the sky, and May whipped her head around to look out the window.  A Trawler was falling, and fast.  "Don't worry.  Robin told me they survive this crash, too."  Voss said, then walked over to talk to his crew.

- - -

"Is everyone alright?"  Coulson yelled as soon as his head stopped ringing from the crash.  He got a response of pained and annoyed groans from four different voices, so he took that as four 'yes's.

"We should get out before something happens to the ship."  Fitz shakily stood from his seat.

"Are you kidding?"  Deke stumbled into the cockpit.  "Go out into the roach infested planet without protection?"

"What else are we supposed to do?"  Daisy snapped at him.  "Stay in here and wait for everyone else to come get us?"

"There has to be a sustainable shelter out there."  Simmons said, looking out the front window.  "At least an atmosphere, if people have survived down here."

"I just crashed a spaceship, what if the engine explodes?"  Coulson stood up and leaned over the controls to look out the window.

"These things are built to take damage, it'll be fine."  Deke leaned against the back of Daisys seat.

"What's that?"  Simmons pointed out at the landscape.  Everyone followed her gaze and watched as a line of small figures started getting closer.

"It's like a line of ants."  Daisy squinted to see better.  "Do you think those are the people?"

"Maybe . . ."  Fitz trailed off.  

"Are those Vrell-Nexians?"  Coulson asked, and everyone looked at Deke for an answer.

Deke shook his head.  "No, they're moving too slow.  And just call them roaches like everyone else."

"What should we do, sir?"  Simmons asked Coulson.

Coulson looked at Daisy.  "We should stay in here and wait for them to come to us.  They seem to know their way around."

So they waited.  They watched the sun move from behind the Trawler to in front of it.  

Deke stood up and put on his space helmet when the line of people were almost at the ship.

"What are you doing?"  Coulson stood up and blocked the ladder.

"I'm going out to meet them."  Dekes voice was slightly muffled from inside the helmet.  "I'll be back."  Coulson grabbed his arm.  Deke took his helmet off and glared.  "What do I have to gain by abandoning you guys here?"

That was a fair point.  Coulson let go, and the S.H.I.E.L.D agents watched Deke climb up the ladder and heard howling winds when he opened the hatch on the ceiling.  They watched through the window as Deke approached the people, exchanged words, and took an offered duffel bag from them.  He started floating back up to the Trawler, and the four agents heard a pair of feet make a heavy landing on the roof.  

The hatch opened, and the duffel bag dropped in, followed by Deke.  "Put those on."  He told them.  "They're taking us to their base, May's there already."

There were coats, cloaks, cloth scraps, and goggles in the bag.  Everyone started layering their clothes, covering up any exposed skin.  The five of them walked with the group of True Believers for a long time.  The sun had set, and the constellations of the night sky made themselves visible.

"Nobody knows these people are alive?"  Simmons said over the wind, holding tight to Fitz.

"People were sent here as a death sentence."  Deke explained.  "Even I thought they were dead."

The Zephyr was right in front of them.  "Why doesn't Kasius send for the bodies to be recovered?"

"No, you don't understand."  Deke said, walking inside and waiting for the scientists.  "They're not just dead.  As far as everyone in the Lighthouse is concerned, everybody that came up here was torn to scraps."  He took off his helmet and took in his surroundings.  "But they're all still alive and living in an actual airplane."  

"Fitz," Jemma took off her gloves and looked around, "your design really withstood the test of time."

Deke turned around and stared at the scientists.  "Wait, you designed this?"  His awe was genuine.  "I can't imagine what it must have been like to f--"

"Deke?"  

The man in question looked past FitzSimmons and gasped softly.  "Dad."  Deke smiled and took off running.

Owen Shaw welcomed his son with open arms, hugging him tightly as soon as he was close enough.  "Deke!  Thank God you're safe."

Deke laughed happily.  "I missed you so much."

"How did you end up tagging along with these people?"  Owen pulled away from the hug and glanced at the scientist, then did a double take and stared at them.

Deke smiled.  "It's a long story, I can tell you . . ." he frowned and followed his fathers line of sight.  "Dad?  What's wrong?"

Owen shrugged his son away and stepped closer to FitzSimmons, seething fury flashed across his face.  "You two?  What the Hell are you two doing here?"

"Dad!"  Deke grabbed his fathers arm.  "That's Fitz and Simmons, they're the--"

"I know who they are!"  Owen shoved Deke back and continued stalking towards the engaged couple.  The rest of the S.H.I.E.L.D team had run in to see what was happening.  Fitz stepped in front of Simmons protectively.  "You taught Alya everything she knew.  You're the reason they killed her!"  Owen pointed accusingly at the two.  Voss ran in and tried to restrain Owen, who struggled and continued yelling.  "And now you're going to get my son killed!"  

"Dad, calm down!"  Deke looked shocked, but he still put himself between his father and his new companions.  "What are you--?"

Owens arms were pinned down to his sides by Voss, so when he lashed out, he kicked.  And he kicked Deke right where the Kree had stabbed him.  

As Deke stumbled back and hit the floor, Coulson ran forward and punched Owen with his bionic hand.  Owen went limp.  For a long minute, the only sounds on the Zephyr were the sounds on the outside.  

"What the Hell."  Fitz was the first one to speak.

Deke grunted as he pulled himself up from the floor.  Voss rushed forward to help.  Deke looked at Fitz and Simmons like he was seeing completely different people.  

"I'm sorry."  Voss said breathlessly.  "He's never done anything like that before."

Simmons frowned.  "Who's Alya?"

Deke leaned against the wall and pressed his hand against his stab wound.  "My mother."  He blinked a few times.  

"What the Hell is that supposed to mean?"  Daisy looked between everyone, just as confused as everyone else.  Nobody had an answer for that.

"Let's get him somewhere he won't hurt anyone else when he wakes up."  Coulson pointed to Owens unconscious body.  Two of Voss' crew members immediately jumped in and started dragging him to the lockers.  "You two, get to medical."  Coulson pointed to Daisy, then to Deke, who coughed and winced.  They both followed the order without objection.

After everyone else on the plane had gone off to keep themselves busy, Voss spoke to FitzSimmons.  "I didn't want to say this in front of Deke and the others."  He lowered his voice and looked to Simmons.  "But you do look a lot like Dekes mom."

Fitz and Simmons shared a confused look, then turned back to Voss.  "What?"

"Alya was kind of like a doctor in the Lighthouse," Voss started to explain, "you know, helping people who were sick or injured.  Her mother was a real doctor and taught her everything."  He looked at the floor solemnly.  "The Kree killed her when Deke was nine."

"What are you saying?"  Fitz asked quietly.

"I think you two are Alyas parents."  Voss told them plainly.  "You definitely look like them, just younger."

"And that would make us Dekes grandparents."  Simmons muttered.  She looked in the direction of medical.  "He's hurt, I should check on him."

Voss watched her go and spoke after a few seconds of silence.  "You guys are taking that news pretty well, despite everything."

"We're dealing with a lot right now," Fitz started following his fiance, "just wait until the shock wears off."

- - -

"I can't believe they stabbed you."  Daisys voice floated out from where the lab used to be.  

A male voice hissed in pain.  "I guess I kind of deserved it, after what I did."  Jemma stopped outside the door and took a deep breath.  "Coulson and May both punched me."

"I think I can put off being mad at you until you resolve whatever's going on with your dad."  Daisys voice was quieter, as if she was concentrating.  "Do you know what that was?"

"I have no idea."  Dekes voice answered.  "He's never done that before."

Jemma opened the door and walked in.  Deke was sitting on a table, holding the hem of his shirt up while Daisy did her best to change the bandage over the stab wound.  They both looked up as Jemma entered.

"Thank God, I'm not good at this."  Daisy stepped back.

Jemma knelt down in front of Deke and bandaged his wound the best she could with the limited supplied.  The silence was very awkward.  

"I'm sorry."  Deke blurted out suddenly.  "I didn't know he was going to do that."

"It's not your fault."  Jemma reassured with a small smile.  She wouldn't bring up what Voss said, not in front of the team.  She stood up after she finished working.  "Don't do anything too strenuous, you could hurt yourself more."

"Thanks."  Deke nodded and stood up.  "I'm going to talk to my dad, see if he's calmed down."

"Be careful."  Jemma called after him.

Deke passed Fitz in the hallway, who watched him with weary eyes.  Deke shrugged it off and explored the Zephyr.  He found his father near the bunks, locked in what looked like a cage full of personal belongings.

Owen blinked up at his son.  "Deke?  What happened?"

"You saw Fitz and Simmons and you freaked out.  You said they're the reason Mom died, and they were trying to kill me."  Deke crossed his arms.  "What was that about?"

Owen sighed and leaned against the chain link door.  "If your grandparents hadn't taught your mother everything they did, she would still be alive."  He said bitterly.  "The Blues killed all the smart people, and they're the reason she was that smart."

Dekes eyes widened.  "They're my grandparent?"

Owen nodded, looking even more bitter.  "If it weren't for them, we wouldn't be living in the Lighthouse."

Deke blinked and pinched the bridge of his nose.  "You're telling me . . ." he sighed and looked up, "Nana and Bobo caused the Earth to break apart?"

"No, not just them."  Owen rolled his eyes.  "Their whole team.  S.H.I.E.L.D."

Deke did not understand what his father was saying.  "So why did you--" something behind Owen caught his eye.  "What's that?"

Owen looked, and quickly snatched up the white rock his son was staring at.  "This is how we got them here."

"So that's why you kept it."  Deke grabbed a set of keys off the wall and started fumbling with the lock.  "That's how we get them back.  I saw the time machine, we need to give it to them."

"Deke, they're not going back."  Owen said, pushing the door open.

"What do you mean?"  Deke frowned.  "They have to.  How else are they supposed to prevent all this?"  He gestures around the room.

"They cause all this."  Owen stepped forward, out of the locker.  "If we keep them here, they don't go back and break the planet."

Deke stared.  "You just told me two of them are my grandparents and now you're telling me they can't leave?"  He held his hand out.  "Give that to me.  They're going back."

Owen sighed.  "I really wish you would make this easier for me.  But, I guess some things just run in the family."

Deke took a careful step back.  "What--?"

Owen slammed the white rock against his sons head.  Deke grunted and fell to the floor, but he was still conscious.  Owen grabbed him by the front of his jacket and dragged him into the locker, closing the door and locking it.  "Your mother told me trouble wasn't genetic.  I guess she was wrong."

As Owen started walking down the hallway, leaving the white rock on the floor, Deke sat up and blinked rapidly to clear his vision.  He had to get out.

He looked up at the ceiling, to clear his confusion more than anything else, and he saw a gap between the top of the fence and the roof of the plane.  About a foot and a half, he could make it.

Deke turned the knob on his belt buckle, and he started floating.  He squeezed through the gap above the fence, then dropped to the floor.  He picked up the rock and started walking as quietly as he could, despite his listing to the side.

Somehow, he made it to the lab without running into anyone.  Unfortunately, there were two people men guarding the door.  "Can, uh . . ." Deke blinked and tried his best to point to the door.  "Can I get-get through?  I think I'm--"

"Deke?"  The handle to the door was jiggled, but it did not open.  "What's going on?"

Deke swallowed thickly and felt something warm drip down the side of his neck.  The two guards looked concerned and one stepped forward to help.  Deke took off his belt buckle, shoved it into the other man, turned the control setting once, then twice, and the other man went flying to the opposite wall.  The other guard drew a knife and brandished it at Deke.

"Deke!"  Fitz yelled through the door.  "What's happening?!"

Coulson and May rounded the corner, saw one man stuck to a wall, saw another man holding a knife, and heard Fitz yelling and banging on a door.  They both ran forward to help Deke, who was definitely in no shape to fight.

As May and Coulson took the fight, Deke moved forward, unlocked the door, and stepped into the lab.  He looked over Fitz and Simmons' worried faces.  "I'm guessing Dad didn't really make a good first impression with the in-laws."

"What happened?"  Jemma immediately ran up to Deke.  He held up the white rock, spotted with blood.

"What is it?"  Fitz took the rock.

"He said--" Deke coughed.  "He said it's how you-you got, um, got here."

"It's part of a monolith."  Jemmas face dawned with realization before she looked back to the head injury.  "Who did this to you?"

Deke slumped over, finally falling unconscious.

"Here."  May appeared in the doorway and tossed the gavatonium belt buckle to the scientists.  "We'll take care of everyone else."

Fitz nodded, then turned to his grandson on the floor.  "Do you think he'll be okay?"

Jemma sighed.  "I told him not to do anything too physical, but I'll let this one slide."  She looked closer at the wound.  "It's not bleeding too much, he probably wasn't hit very hard if he stayed awake afterward."

"Do you think he know?"  Fitz asked, examining the monolith piece.  "He called us 'the in-laws.'"

"I doubt he doesn't"  Jemma started cleaning the blood off of Dekes head.  "Who do you think did this to him?"

"Wasn't he going to his father?"  Fitz asked.  The couple made eye contact.

Jemma clenched her hands into fists and stood up.  "I'm going to kill him.  Who would do something like that to their own child?"

"A man trying to keep his son safe."  The scientists turned to the door.  Owen Shaw was holding a hammer.  

"Funny way of showing it."  Fitz grabbed a heavy wrench and stepped in front of Deke and Jemma.

"I couldn't have him getting in the way."  Owen said.

"So you hit him over the head with a rock?"  Jemma seethed.  She picked up a screwdriver from the table next to her and threw it at Owen.

Owen watched the screwdriver and easily dodged it.  "What was that sup--?"

Fitz punched him.  "Deke definitely gets his intelligence from us."

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

All Those Things They Couldn’t Say - A Runaway Baudelaires AU

{ao3} {tumblr} {masterlist}

Chapter Fourteen - An Incident at the Marketplace

Violet was very quiet for the next several days with Josephine. The kids didn’t have much to do that didn’t involve giving Josephine a heart attack, so they mostly just sat around in her library. Klaus tried desperately to find the grammar books interesting, while Josephine tried to teach grammar and English to Sunny, who instead found hardcovers to bite on. Violet, meanwhile, had taken out her own commonplace book, and kept either scribbling furiously or doodling, with her ribbon keeping her hair back. She wouldn’t let Klaus see what she wrote, but she would show him and Sunny her drawings- usually blueprints for another invention, or a sketch of something nearby, like a book or Sunny asleep on the table. A few times she drew the sea, and she always got a distant look in her eyes as she did. 

Every now and again, they’d ask Josephine how she knew their parents, or about Ike, or if they could please show her how the oven worked, but she always changed the topic, so they eventually gave up. 

Finally, one day, Klaus asked about Lake Lachrymose, and Josephine’s eyes did the same thing as Violet’s, where she looked like she’d fallen into a distant, but fond, memory. 

“Oh, I grew up on these shores, you know.” Josephine said. “I know every cave and curve, from the Lavender Lighthouse, above Curdled Cave, to the edge of the Fickle Ferry’s route.” 

“Could we go swimming?” Violet asked, as she bounced Sunny on her knee. “I’d love to skip rocks again, and-” 

“Oh, no.” Josephine shook her head. “No, I can’t go near the lake now. I can only bear to view it from this window.” 

The Baudelaires shot each other tired looks. Klaus said, “I know lakes and similarly deep-water locations can be dangerous, but if you know it so well-” 

“Oh, it’s not that.” Josephine said. Then, she leaned over and whispered, “It’s the leeches.” 

“The… what?” Klaus asked. 

“The Lachrymose Leeches.” Josephine shivered. “They’re quite different from normal leeches, you see- these leeches live only in Lachrymose Lake, and they will eat anything that even remotely smells of food. You have to wait one hour after eating to go swimming or they will swarm and-” she cut herself off, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. “I’m sorry, children. It’s not grammatically correct to end a sentence with ‘and.’ But I just get very emotional-” 

“That’s how Ike died?” Klaus asked. “Leeches?” 

Josephine jumped, and Violet hit him on the shoulder. 

That night, Violet signalled for Klaus to stay awake. They sat on the other side of her bed, with Sunny sitting on Violet’s lap and biting the handle of a knife, and Violet said, “I need your help with something. I was hoping to wait until Josephine was out of the house, but the dumb bitch never seems to leave.” 

“What’s going on?” Klaus asked nervously. 

“Josephine’s got a safe hidden in her library.” Violet said simply. Klaus didn’t even react; they expected secrets everywhere. “I’ve been hoping you could help me crack the code. I could invent something to bust it open, but that’d make noise and leave damage and Josephine would know.” 

“What’s the combination like?” 

“Dial. I think four numbers.” 

Klaus considered. “It has to be something she’d remember. But she doesn’t seem too into numbers, just words.” 

“We could use the A1Z26 cipher.” Violet said. “But it’d have to be a short word, especially if one of the letters is past i-9, which would make it two numbers.” 

“What does she like?” Klaus narrowed his eyes. “Grammar.” 

“Cold soup.” 

“Not telling us anything.” 

Sunny looked up, stopping her biting for a moment, and said, “Ike.” 

Violet and Klaus looked at each other, and then smiled a little. “Good work, Sunny.” Violet said. “Let’s go.” 

They got up, racing to the library. Violet opened the trick bookshelf quickly, and Klaus knelt by the safe, muttering the numbers for I-K-E. Once he got it, he turned the handle, and the safe clicked open. 

“Easy enough.” Klaus said. 

“See,” Violet joked, reaching into the safe, “This is why I keep you around.” She pulled out a file, which she flipped open. “Hmm. Photos of her not being a scaredy-cat.” Like in the scrapbook. 

“Is she jumping out of a plane?” 

“For fun.” Violet nodded. “Yeah, she did used to be interesting. What else is in there?” 

Klaus looked in. “Sheet music. Box of crackers. This book-thing- oh, hey.” 

He pulled out the book, and showed it off to Violet. The title, spelled out very clearly on the large, dark cover, was The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations. 

“Okay. So,” Violet pulled Sunny onto her lap, and said, “Is this a good or bad thing?” 

“Means she’s in VFD.” 

“But she hid it away. Meaning she’s trying to get out.” 

“Not good for us, considering what happened when Mother and Father tried to leave.” 

“Whazzit?” Sunny asked, confused. 

“But it means we’re safe from ankle-snatching bastards.” Violet shrugged. “Listen, if she’s hiding this shit away,” she held up the file, waving it a bit, “It means she doesn’t want to think about her past. We’re safe for the time being. Eventually Mother and Father will get here and then we don’t have to talk to her again.” 

Klaus sighed, and then said, “I guess.” 

“Well,” Violet groaned, standing up and lifting Sunny with her, “Let’s get back to bed. Aunt Jo said we’re hurricane shopping tomorrow, so maybe we can convince her to get hot food.” 

“Not gonna happen.” 

“Then we’ll swipe some when she’s not looking and make it ourselves. No biggie. And you, Sunshine, should be asleep.” 

Sunny huffed. “Ekaw,” she said, which meant, “But you’re awake.” 

“Yeah, but I’m old enough to make bad life decisions. Sleep time.” 

The next morning, at the market, Violet and Klaus tried to stick by Aunt Josephine, but she seemed scared of practically everything in the town. It was good that the lakeside was basically empty, or they’d worry about making a scene and attracting unwanted attention. Klaus held Sunny in his arms instead of in his bag, letting her point towards food she wanted- and, when Josephine wasn’t looking, letting her grab something to stuff into his pocket. 

Violet kept untying and retying her ribbon in her hair, both bored by the market they had to walk through so slowly and too stimulated by how many aisles of carts they walked past, all with different smells and vendors shouting what they were selling and bright signs and even some which had other, loud noises. Sunny and Klaus were too focused on grabbing what they wanted without paying, like they normally did, that they weren’t noticing how loud everything seemed to be. 

“Josephine,” Violet muttered, shoving her ribbon into her pocket and turning back to their current guardian, “Perhaps we could get something to cook for you. Klaus and I know how to make several very quick meals, and as fast as they are, it’s hard to mess them up.” 

“Oh, no, no.” Josephine shook her head. “I’m eager to try this recipe for cold lime stew.” 

“Nuki,” Sunny said, meaning, “I think I’d rather eat something hot, or bite your arm off.” 

“No, no, Sunny,” Josephine said firmly, looking up from her shopping list. “‘Nuki’ isn’t a word. Remember what we said about using correct English. Now, Violet, would you please get some cucumbers? I thought I would make chilled cucumber soup again sometime next week.” 

Violet groaned outwardly, giving Josephine the side-eye, and then she moved down another aisle in search of cucumbers. She had no idea where they were- she didn’t know this fucking town!- but likely they’d be around the other vegetables. Things should be organized normally, right? A vender was selling canned soup which would be amazing if she could just fucking cook it. She retied her hair again, wondering if she could take apart the oven and force Josephine to see it was fine. For a few moments, she was so lost in her inventing thoughts that she didn’t look where she was going until she walked right into someone. 

“Oh, I’m sorry-” Violet started to stay, and then she looked up, and froze over. 

Turning around to look at her, with a shiny gleam in his eye, was a tall, thin man in a blue sailor had and black eye patch covering his left eye, as well as a thick wooden peg leg. But even with the peg leg and the eye patch and the sailor outfit, she could see his shiny eyes and the one eyebrow snaking underneath the patch and the long, bony fingers that drumming on a nearby table, slightly rattling a bottle of olives. 

“You.” she breathed. 

“Why, hello, dear lady.” Count Olaf said, a strange tone as he adopted some kind of sailor’s accent. “Didn’t see you there.” 

His beady, uncovered eye was staring down at her as if she were a brightly wrapped birthday present that he couldn’t wait to rip open. Violet had seen that look before, and she immediately reached for her pocket to grab her knife. 

“Violet!” she heard Josephine call behind her, but she didn’t turn, keeping her eyes on the dangerous man in front of her. “What are you doing in this aisle? These people are selling food that must be heated, and you know-” 

When she saw Count Olaf she stopped speaking, and for a second Violet thought she’d recognized him, too. But then she smiled, and Violet felt a boiling fury inside her. 

“Hello,” said Count Olaf, smiling at Josephine, “I was just apologizing for running into your sister here.” 

Klaus and Sunny ran up, then, and Klaus said, “Sorry we wandered behind, we saw- fuck, that’s Count Olaf!” 

“Yeah, no shit, Klaus.” Violet said. “Stay behind me.” 

Josephine scoffed, and said, “Violet! Don’t be rude!” she gestured to the Count in front of them. “This nice man is clearly not Count Olaf. Look at him! He’s a sailor.” 

“Captain Sham, my lady.” Olaf made a bow, and as he did, he shot a sneaky, smug look to Violet. 

“Alright, fucker,” Violet pushed Klaus and Sunny back slightly as Sunny hissed, and then she pulled out her pocketknife, flipping it open and pointing it at him. 

“Violet!” Josephine gasped, as Olaf stood back up, not concerned. “What did we say about sharp objects?” 

“If you’re really a pirate captain,” Violet said, “Then I assume that peg leg is real.” 

“As real as I am, miss.” Olaf said. “If you could put the knife away, nice girls shouldn’t be playing with those.” 

“I’m not a nice girl.” Violet said, stepping towards him. “So if it’s real, I can just swipe at it with this knife, and there’ll be no leg under it for me to sever off, causing you to bleed out until you tell us where the fuck our parents are, you bastard!” 

“Violet!” Josephine nearly shrieked, and she grabbed Violet’s arm, yanking her back. Surprised, Violet nearly swung the knife at her, recovering quickly enough to keep herself from harming their guardian. “I’m sorry, sir, she must be confused.” 

“Well,” Olaf said, smiling again at Violet, “Sometimes young girls are like that when they travel too much. I find it’s best to keep them in one place to avoid hallucinations.” 

Violet tugged at Josephine’s hand, but Josephine kept a firm grip on her, and Violet groaned as Josephine carefully plucked the knife from her hand and tossed it to the ground. “There. Now nobody can get hurt.” 

“Bet.” Sunny said. 

“Josephine, that’s Count Olaf! He’s in disguise.” Klaus said. “He’s after us!” 

“Now, Klaus, be nice to Captain Sham and don’t play along with your sister’s-” 

He turned to Violet, asking with his eyes if he should start crying, and Violet nodded. Klaus then burst into tears, and taking the cue, Sunny did, too. 

“Please, Josephine-” Klaus began. 

“Oh, now, Klaus,” Josephine released Violet, putting an arm around him. Violet turned to Olaf, as if to rush him, only to see, to her horror and frustration, that while Josephine’s back was turned, he had picked up her knife. He twirled it in his hands, giving her a clear look that dared her to try anything. 

“Best be gettin’ the young boy home, miss.” Olaf said, hiding the knife as Josephine turned to him. “Seems the sea air’s done somethin’ to him.”

“I’m very sorry-” 

“Captain Sham.” Olaf pulled a laminated card from his pocket, handing it over. The Baudelaires gave him glares as Josephine read it over. “Sailboat rentals.” 

Josephine laughed. “Why, Captain Sham! You’ve made a grammatical error.” 

“What?” Olaf said, raising his eyebrow. 

“It says here, ‘Captain Sham’s Sailboats. Every boat has it’s own sail.’ There should not be an apostrophe over ‘it’s,’ as that signals ‘it is.’ You mean simply I-T-S, ‘belonging to it.’ It’s a very common mistake, Captain Sham, but a dreadful one.” 

Captain Sham’s face darkened, and it looked for a minute like he was going to attack; Violet moved to grab Klaus’s hand. But then he smiled and said, “Thank you for pointing that out. Perhaps, dear lady, you can explain more about grammar to me tonight, over dinner.” 

“No!” Violet said. 

“Now, Violet, please quiet down. Let the adults speak.” Josephine said. She turned back to Olaf and said, “I’d be happy. We could go to that new fried egg place, if you so wish.” 

“Wonderful. Where do you live? I’ll pick you up very soon.” He looked to the kids there, and Violet felt like she was going to be sick. 

“Josephine, don’t-” Klaus began, through his forced tears. 

“Right at the top of the hill.” Josephine giggled. “I’ll go get a new shawl and drop the children off.” 

“Yes. They can rest.” Olaf said. “Who knows what could happen to them in the wide open world?” 

“Go to hell, bastard.” Violet said. 

“Violet!” 

“Our parents will beat your ass, and they’ll find us, and you’re going to-” Violet spat. 

“Violet, please!” Josephine shook her head and tutted. “Children have no manners these days. If you’ll excuse us, Captain Sham…” 

She turned and pulled the kids along with her. Violet shot a hateful glare back at Olaf, who just smiled innocently at her. 

Once they reached the house, Josephine said, “I know you children have had quite the terrifying life. But that doesn’t mean you can be rude to kind sailors at the market.” 

“That wasn’t a kind sailor! That was Count Olaf!” Violet protested. 

“Please,” Klaus sniffled, “Listen to us!” 

“Children, go lie down.” Josephine insisted. “Captain Sham must be right, the excessive travel is making you-” 

“Did you seriously buy that?” Klaus temporarily snapped out of his fake tears. “That’s ‘female hysteria’ bullshit!” 

“Klaus! Go lie down! I will go get ready for dinner.” she paused. “Why don’t I make you all chilled cucumber soup, so that you have something to eat while I’m out?” 

Violet took a deep breath, and then spun on her heel and stalked off without another word. 

Klaus raced after her, and Sunny asked, “Ato?” which meant something akin to, “What do we do?” 

“I’m working on it.” Violet muttered. 

“Gui!” Sunny shouted as they made their way into their bedroom, meaning, “How could she fall for that phony disguise?” 

“Mother and Father told us often that disguises are an easy way to sneak around simple people.” Klaus said. 

“Well, good to know that Josephine is a dumbass!” Violet sat on the bed, and pulled out her ribbon, tying her hair back as tight as she could. She took a deep breath, and thought. 

She remembered, when she was about eight, her Mother had sat her down and tried to help her figure out better ways to manage her anger, after she’d punched a kid who threatened Klaus at the playground. One of the things that had worked was just letting her inventing mind go off on plans, keeping her focus on different ideas instead of on the first impulse to attack. She clasped her hands together, sitting cross-legged, and keeping her eyes shut, even as Sunny crawled onto her lap. 

Klaus sat beside her on the bed, bouncing the mattress slightly. “Ideas?” 

Violet considered what they had at their disposal. The house had little electricity, was situated above a lake… perhaps they could push Olaf through the library window, but he could grab one of their ankles and pull them with him. Josephine didn’t have anything very sharp or heavy… the only dangerous thing around the lake was- 

“I have an idea.” Violet said after a minute, smiling as she opened her eyes. “I need you guys to distract Josephine. If Olaf comes, keep him here.” 

“What are you going to do?” 

“I’m going to get our weapon.” Violet pulled Sunny off of her lap, putting the baby on a pillow, and she stood up, stretching slightly. “What we’re going to do, is we’re going to beg to go to dinner with Josephine and Olaf. We’re so sorry, we made a mistake, we feel so bad for insulting Captain Sham.” 

“That’s gonna be hard to fake.” 

“We’ll manage. Then at the restaurant, we’ll get him to take us for a walk by the pier.” 

“That’s asking for him to kidnap us.” 

“Exactly. Once lulled into a false sense of security, as we walk by the ocean, you trip him into the water.” 

“So he swims back and strangles us.” 

“No, so I throw our weapon at him. In the water, he’ll be helpless.” 

“What weapon, Vi? A weight?” 

Violet smiled and shook her head. She reached into Klaus’s bag, pulling out a small, glass jar, as well as a small snackbag. 

“The Lachrymose Leeches.”

[agl03]

Season 6 Promo Breakdown

I’m back baby!

Here is my early take on the Promo...WE HAVE A PROMO!  Love that a few theories look to be confirmed right out of the gate.  As always these could change as more spoilers come out.  Also bear in mind this could have scenes from multiple episodes.  And yes...they hid FItz.

Do I get a cookie for Holo Coulson?  So we have our first way that Coulson is back.  A Holo version of himself to help advise Mack when he needs it.  

Hammer home that whole Coulson is dead so they can nail us with major plot twist...check.

May was indeed with him to the end....pause to cry.  Things of note.  May has a boo boo and we know from BTS pics that she was in a fight at the museum.  So its possible this is after that.  But I also get the feel that May hasn’t been back long if they are discussing the time she had with Coulson.  She could also be there to ask Mack about the mission Ming spoke of at SDCC. 

Heavy is the Head.  This comes as no surprise as well as Henry discussed Mack going through the challenges of being Director.  A large part of that will be keeping everyone safe.  So we’ll see him butt heads with Elena about her staying safe while we could continue to see some guilt about losing Fitz.  I also suspect that he will loose and Agent (redshirt we get attacked too in .05 seconds) in the Premiere and it will hit him hard. 

FEELS!  I HAVE FEELS!  Looks like that whole Fitz get Fitznapped before the team can find them happened. At least we are getting our annual Fitznapping out of the way early this season.  They brought the pod aboard for some reason, likely to look for clues or Jemma wanted something to help her feel closer.  Interestingly I don’t see the bloody handprint we see later. 

Space goons about to get beat up by a super confident and stronger Daisy in what could be a Space Bar since Daisy says its “Ladies Night”.

Cue butt kicking big actiony fight scene to showcase Daisy’s awesome...possibly supped up...fighting skills.  My dude trying to slink out the back there either is just getting out of the way or Daisy was trying to get information from him/her.  Can’t tell.

Jemma!  There are really a lot of options as to what is going on here.  My big one is Jemma has done something big in a desperate attempt to get Fitz.  Has been captured herself/separated from the others.  Or this is some sort of dream.  Things of note her shirt is different than in other parts of the promo, her jacket is missing, and her hair is down.  

Well this is something right out of Star Trek.  Portal, Wormhole, door to the multiverse kind of thing with a big ship/space station...guessing that is who had/has Fitz and belongs to the baddies.  I do believe the little ship there is the Zephyr.  Other option is something not so good comes out of that hole.  Not going to lie...that also REALLY looks like the fear dimension to me as well.  Them going into the fear dimension explaims a few things we see later.

Big white hole = not good.  Yay, the found Enoch (no killing him again) but unless Fitz is injured and still in medbay the baddie still has him.  Also worth noting that Enoch seems to have some blood there on his stomach.

Action Deke!  The Ship looks similar to Quova’s last season.  And I honest to goodness have no idea what Deke is up too here.  Because I was pretty sure he was on earth and no with team Space Fiz Rescue.  This might not be a ship, rather a lab, or part of his business and he’s under attack.  Or its part of some sort of dream sequence. Him rebuilding the Framework has to be back in play as well.

Elena taking on some dude on the Zephyr.  She still has her robotic arms and looks to be on the Zephyr.  So this is either from later in the season when they come back with it, or Mack has a new plane.  This guy is dressed a bit like Darth Coulson is at the end so could be with him.

Not good!  Those kind of look like the Terrigen crystals but aren’t blue enough to me and turn black as the grow.  He’s either been hit with a weapon, 084, or powers.  It seems to start as some kind of sand like substance that causes the crystals to take over.  NOT GOOD whatever this is.

May stabbing the now black crystal monster thing with the special blue crystal thing...now that looks like Terrigen Crystals to me.  This looks like it could be a storeroom at the Lighthouse or a lab they are investigating.  

Daisy took out his friends so head goon here gloats and transports/teleports away.  

I went through this sequence a few times and could never 100% make out who it is.  I think it’s Deke and he’s definitely showing his Fitzsimmons here and working on tech either creating his own or working with some Fitzsimmons had done already.  Davis.  Or a Rando.  The glasses seem to do something interesting.

Now we are going into the train has left the station point of the promo and every screen grab has an OMG WTH is going on thing to it.

Daisy is back in the Lighthouse and the guy in the suit just might be The Doctor.  I zoomed in best my computer could and came up with a solid “looks like him but can’t be 100% sure”.  If the white hole of doom from above is indeed the Fear Dimension this could easily be the Doctor showing up again.  

FEELS AGAIN!  I don’t think Jemma is freezing herself.  I think she is just trying to comfort herself by placing herself where Fitz was at some point.  There is blood on the window so at some point there was a struggle around the pod.  Perhaps from when Fitz was taken.

My guess is this is at the Museum before it all goes to pot.  Redshirt there is sooo dead.

We have here what I have dubbed “All the bad things Jemma”.  She has a mix of her Maveth and Slave costumes on here.  A common denominator for me were times she was separated from and thought she’d never see Fitz again.  Other HUGE notes. You can see the reflection of a Shield symbol in the glass but not the one Mack is using.  And the dude she’s about to shove through the glass is dressed like something Season 1 Fitz would have worn....so I think we got a grab of the doubles.

She shoves him through the glass and h’es now on the Zephyr in a new costume.

Yay, another double. Either way I believe its meant to be ‘a’ version of Fitz.  Be it thanks to the fear dimension or we’ve gone multiverse.

I do think its a better chance this is Fitz and just got grabs of the doubles.

The baddies have a big truck and are making quite the get away.  I also believe this is from the museum and Shield will fail to stop them from getting what they went after.

If the casting call from the beggining of the Season was accurate I do believe this will be butterfly.  Weapon of choice is knives but won’t be shocked if she doesn’t have powers as well and she’s facing down with May here.  Possibly at the Museum or womehwere else.  If the actress looks familiar its Brook Williams from 12 Monkies.

Giant dude with smoke coming out his nose....yeah not good either.  Guessing he’s with Butterfly (Jaco).  Possibly Darth Coulson.

This dude has a phaser laser gun so yeah not good either.  Think this guy is with Butterfly and Mr. Giant (Jaco and Pax).  The building reminds me of “deke’s Place that we saw in some BTS pics.  So these guys are either after Deke or something he has be it tech of his star chart.

Mack getting Deke out.  There is blood on his side so Deke has been injured or was trying to help someone else who was.  You can also see some sort of ID Badge on Deke earlier in this sequence so looks like he’s working at some sort of lab.

So there was indeed something crazy powerful in there and the big old truck comes out of this. Anyone else have Independance Day Vibes?

“You’re from Shield”

“Never heard of it.”

HELLO DARTH COULSON!   Gotta love a theory hit.

So still no idea HOW Darth Coulson is in the mix here, if we have some sort of clone, reserrection, or dark universe where Shield doesn’t exist.  Whoever is speaking to him knew Coulson to be Shield so is possibly someone we’ve seen before.  His outfit looks a lot like what the terrible trio have on too so my guess is we will see him working with them.

Well that was long, my computer is lagging trying to write this now its so big.  More in depth analysis, theories and metas to come.  Still have a question, send an ask.

[lavidaatravezdeunavion]

Week 3

June 30 

We had to be up and ready to go at 7:40am because today we were going to be driving to the Jesuit Missionaries about 3 hours away. Before the missionaries, we went to an amethyst mine. It was cool to hear about it and they said that they don't export the gems so the only way to get it is by buying directly. The gems were breathtaking! 

After another two hour drive we finally arrived at the San Ignacio's missionaries and ate at the comedor right in front. I got a pollo milanesa and a salad. I crushed the salad but the pollo was average so I didn't finish it. 

After lunch we toured the missionary. Our tour guide explained to us that these missionaries were sent to spread the word of God to the Guarani People. They had built multiple communities in the surrounding area including brazil and paraguay. Later they were taken out and some of the guarani people went back to living in the jungle. San Ignacio was abandoned and destroyed, so the restoration is only partial. It was cool to be able to walk through their common spaces and know that a couple hundred years ago there were indigenous people walking on the same grounds. 

The tour finished and we loaded up on the bus for the three hour ride back home. We ate dinner at the hotel and I got a pumpkin soup as a starter and let me tell you I was a little on edge because I’ve never had pumpkin soup but it was sooooo delicious. Since it was a starter they only gave me a little but I would’ve been happy eating a whole bowl of it, 9/10. For my main course I got the fish of the day which was “pacu” with a side of mashed potatoes. Mashed potatoes didn’t disappoint but the fish could’ve been better. Not my cup of tea. And for dessert I got a flan. 

After dinner we all went to bed since we had to get up even earlier to head to the waterfalls.

July 1

We left the hotel at about 7:30am and headed to the waterfalls that was only 30min from our hotel. We were trying to get on the first train up to the waterfalls so that it wouldn’t be as crowded on the lookout. It was perfect timing because as we wrapped up taking all of our pictures a crowd of people were walking up. If you are able to get on the first or second train in Iguazú falls it honestly will make taking pictures a lot easier. 

After we saw “la garganta del diablo” we went to the little store they had and I got an empanadas de espinaca y queso (spinach and cheese). When I paid for it the guy told me to be careful with the animals. But I realized that the birds here are VERY vicious. I stayed inside to eat my empanada but my professor went out to drink her coffee and eat her empanada and got attacked by some birds! This is why they have cages specifically made for people to eat in LOL. 

We did another trail to see the falls from a different angle and it was just mind blowing. 

After the trails we had little time for lunch. I didn’t want to eat too much because we were going to be taking a boat tour right after. From one of the comedores I got some chicken and rice. While on this trip there are two things that I really miss: rice and beans. They have rice here but they usually eat potatoes and beans are not very popular here so my Salvadoran blood has been a little sad.

Anyway we got on the boat and I definitely recommend doing it if you are able. They give you a waterproof bag to put your stuff in and I also recommend taking your shoes off and putting them in the bag. I was also wearing a poncho which helped protect me, but regardless you will get wet. They take you really close to the falls and you can take some pictures in front but then they tell you to put your phones away because they take you sooooooo close to the falls and get soaked!! 

Once the ride was over we got back on our tour bus and headed back to the hotel.

For dinner, we ate at the hotel and I got the pumpkin soup, salad and the chicken milanesa with a side of mashed potatoes. Pretty good meal, favorite of course was the soup.

After dinner some friends and I went to the store to get something to drink. I got a white boxed wine that was only 55 pesos! (~$1.30). If you were wondering, no I did not finish it. 

July 2

We were able to sleep this morning till about 9am since we had to leave the hotel at 10am. We got on the plane and headed back to Buenos Aires.

 After we got off the plane and back to the resi (which I sort of missed) we dropped off laundry and got a little snack.

Later that night we went to “Caracas bar” to watch the Brazil vs Argentina game. I got this drunk called guarapanita which was rum and fruit juice. I also got some tostones de carne which really hit. The bar was a really cool and had a big screen to watch the game on but unfortunately the energy in the bar was really off. If you don’t know Argentina lost and it was really sad :(.

July 3

I was so excited to wake up today because my sister was going to be coming to Buenos Aires! I got up at around 10:30 and went to brunch with some girls at this cafe called adobo. We ended up walking but then couldn’t find it and then google maps said it was twenty min away so we got a taxi but what we didn’t realize that there were two locations #whoops. Anyway the food was bomb. The bagel sandwich just hit differently and Nutella and banana French toast was to die for! 

After breakfast I went back to the resi and picked my things for our trip to Uruguay later that evening. I picked up my laundry and waited for my sister to arrive. Once my sister got there we went to exchange some money. I thought that Uruguay was going to be cheaper than Argentina for some reason but I was wrong. The exchange rate right now is about .55 Uruguayan peso for 1 Argentine peso. 

We went to a cafe near Plaza Serrano called “La Panera Rosa” and I got a Chicken Rigatti Pasta. It was honestly one of the best meals ive had. It really had a lot of sauce and contrary to what Future says you can really never have too much sauce.

After lunch we got in a taxi and headed to the port and got on a Buquebus. Which is a ferry and then a charter bus to Montevideo,Uruguay. 

We checked into our hostel and then I messaged a friend I had met back in 2016 through Amigos de las Americas a nonprofit organization that I volunteered for. When my friend said he'd love to meet up I was ecstatic! We went to a random cafe near by and got a Chivito, which is a typical Uruguayan sandwhich and of course some wine.

 After my friend Miqueas gave us a little tour of the city and we headed to a bar to get a night cap. 

July 4

Happy fourth of July!!

This morning we got up and checked out of our hostel since we would be traveling to Colonia later. We walked to a restaurant to get some “breakfast” even though it was 11:30 am. My sister and I shared a milanesa that came with two fried eggs and some fries and potato salad. No need to mention the restaurants' name there are probably better ones out there. 

After lunch, we headed to Montevideo Shopping because my friend works around there so he said he would meet us up after he got out. Sooo in the meantime, we got to walk around and window shop. 

Once my friend got out of work my friend took us to the coast to get a good view and he knew I had a blog so he wanted to make sure I got good pictures! ( Gracias Miqueas!!! <3) 

After the photo session, we headed to the bus terminal and got our tickets for the bus ride to Colonia. We decided to get a quick bite to eat in the terminal to this restaurant called “La Mostaza”. My sister and I shared Ravioli, which was pretty bomb. The filling for the ravioli was like spinach and it was different but definitely tasty.

Once we finished we headed back to the hostel to pick up our luggage and then got a taxi back to the terminal and then got on the bus for Colonia. Once we arrived to Colonia I was a bit nervous because I did not see too many taxis but luckily once we walked outside there was a stand and then headed to our hostel and went to bed.

July 5

Today we got to sleep in again and then got ready to go get some breakfast. We went to this cute coffee shop called “Colonia Sandwich and coffee shop”. I got a roast beef sandwich and some tea. The place was really cute and since its winter time here they had blankets for everyone who sat outside which definitely helped. 

There were a bunch of birds surrounding us it was a little scary but more cute lol.

After lunch we just walked around the town which is really small so it wasn’t too long. We saw a lighthouse and some cool views on the coast. 

Later we did some more walking and found the drawbridge that we couldn’t find earlier. We also gained a new friend along the way lol. 

We decided to get a little snack to hold us over so we could try and eat dinner at a “normal” time. (Dinner in Argentina and Uruguay is usually eaten around 9 or 10pm so its been something difficult to adjust too) We walked into this restaurant that was right in the center, I wish I could tell you the name but the sign outside literally just said “Restaurant”. Anyway my sister and I shared a Rice with seafood dish and some wine. I loveeeee seafood so this was a perfect combination for me.

 After we decided to walk and get some ice cream at Freddo which is a pretty popular chain here. We got a Dulce de Leche cone.

Much later we went to go get some dinner at a pizza place called “Napo” it was really delicious. You could even see them making your pizza. My sister noticed that the guy making the pizza had a hat on and said that's probably a health code violation but im still here so I guess it's not that big of an issue. My sister and I got a salad and a pepperoni pizza and some red wine. (forgot to take a picture of the pizza sorry!)

After we headed back to the hostel and went to bed.

July 6

Today we woke up and checked out of our hostel and then headed to go get some breakfast. We went to this cute cafe called “Picnic”. I got an orange juice and a caprese empanada and then my sister and I shared a donut which was nothing like ive ever had before 10/10.

Since we had basically seen all the important landmarks we walked around and went window shopping. After we decided to go do a wine tasting at a place called “Buen Suspiro”. We had tried to go there the night before but it was closed. We got some charcuterie and tasted four different wines: Rose, Sauvignon blanc, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Tempranillo. My favorite was the Tempranillo and a close second was the Sauvignon blanc. 

After the taste testing, we went back to collect our belongings and headed to the port to get on the ferry back to Buenos Aires.

Once we got back I helped my sister check into her hostel and then headed back to our resi to work on this blog because it was long overdue!

After I finally caught up we went to dinner at “La Robla”. I got myself a Milanesa with a salad and my sister got a Steak with some mashed potatoes and we shared half a liter of sangria. I didn’t know sangria is literally just wine and fruits lol, the more you know.

For dessert we got a banana split!

After dinner, we walked my sister home and then went to bed.

This week we’ve done a lot of traveling so im excited to be back in BA!

Hasta luego,

T.L.

[inkspottie]

Step into the Abyss

Since trashboat did Omega and Delta I couldn’t resist to do Alpha. So enjoy~

Opening the door to his apartment he let out a long sigh, placing the jacket down on the couch. It had been a long day, and Henry was ready to relax and just ease himself into a nice sleep.

His head was already aching enough. Migraines were of second nature for him. Reaching over to grab the pill bottle he uncapped the bottle and swallowed a few small pills. At least he was relieved from some pain.

Running a hand through his hair he pauses when seeing a yellowed piece of paper sticking out from the regular mail. He tilts his head, he could of sworn that wasn’t here before. He had gone through the mail this morning.

He reaches for the paper, finding it to be a letter of sorts. Opening the weathered envelope, he pulled the letter out with a curious look.

Dear Henry,

I suppose it has been quite sometime since we had a little chat. Seeing that you left on such short notice, and without any say as well left me heartbroken.

I do truly wish to speak to you once more, so why don’t you come back to your home? The studio waits for you.

Would you kindly come and visit your dear old pal, Alpha?

Joey Drew

Henry felt a cold chill travel down his spine as the letter fell from his hands. He needed to go. He needed to go to Rapture Studios.

With a sudden change of mood Henry rushed to grab items, shoving them into a bag. Reaching down he grabbed the letter and left his apartment.

He was coming Joey Drew.

Henry wasn’t sure how he got on an airplane. His brain was all foggy. He remembered a letter...Joey Drew asked him to come? It was all just a haze for him.

The migraine was getting worse, drilling into his skull. The scar around his neck was starting to get irritated too. Perhaps it was the wool rubbing against it, but he rather it be covered than be out in the open. Less people to stare.

Perhaps this was a journalist job and he just was so tired he forgot?

Henry rubs his forehead in annoyance, he wished his memory wasn’t so spotty all the time. The plane jerks slightly and Henry lifts his head. He glances out the window seeing the dark sky and ocean.

The plane shakes again, this time jostling Henry in his seat. He swallows keeping his eyes out the window. Something moves against the wing of the plane, and Henry pauses squinting slightly in the darkness. It looked…as if something was on the wing.

Henry leans further into the window, seeing the black figure attack itself to the wing, moving closer to the turbines. Not good. Henry looks up from his seat seeing the small amount of people minding their business, did they not see this?!

The plane suddenly lurched to the side and if he didn’t have his seatbelt he would of flown to the other side of the plane. With a shout he sees the turbine explode before his very eyes and none of the passengers were reacting to this.

Was he going insane?! What was happening here. He feels the plane jerk downwards from the lack of an engine, and he closed his eyes. This was it, he was going to die here. God! Fuck!

The plane hits the water with a mighty splash, breaking on the impact. Henry feels the cold salt water hit his skin, eyes opening wide. He was alive!

Fumbling for the seatbelt he pushes the button and swims up to the surface. Fire and plane parts scatter across the sea. The waves were choppy as he turned around looking for something anything. Survivors, piece of wood to lay against.

Then a bright light twirled towards him, squinting he looked to see a lighthouse in the distance. Okay, that could work. Maybe there was a phone he could use or something. Or at least get dry.

Swimming to the lighthouse thousands of thoughts raced through his head. What was that thing that blew up the turbine engine? Why was no one reacting to it? Was his meds finally getting to him. He cursed under his breath, his bag no doubt was down at the bottom of the ocean.

Damn it this day just couldn’t get any worse. Seeing the steps of the lighthouse he reaches for it pulling himself up. Coughing a bit from all the seawater he swallowed, he shook his head, his hair sticking to his face. Ugh.

He leans against the steps to catch his breath wringing out his sweater with small grumbling. Now this thing would never get dry, and it would stretch. This was his favorite sweater.

Henry finally stands at the lighthouse, the stairs spiraling up further. From here it didn’t look like a lighthouse, save for the spinning beacon. It looked familiar. He scratched at his neck feeling the irritation getting worse now that his sweater was soaking wet.

Got to get out, got to get out, never look back never look back

Henry grips his head as he climbs, feeling like someone pressed a hot rod onto his brain. He groans a bit shaking his head. Damn it what was that?

The pain leaves as quickly as it came, and he’s stuck at the top of the lighthouse finishing himself at a set of large golden double doors. The aura on these doors that nearly sent him going in the other direction. He looks at the letter again swallowing thickly.

Would you kindly come and visit your dear ol pal, Alpha?

In that moment he pushes the doors open and enters the lion’s den.

Welcome to Rapture Studios.

[stuckonswan]

The Inn of Senrof, Act II

And there we have it! The second part of my Big Bang Story had been posted. Again thank you to @ts-storytime for creating and running this Big Bang. It has been an honor to be apart of it.

Click here for Act I

Click here for the art done by @zennyo

Click here for the art done by @lady-literature

Trigger Warnings: Blood, death, injury, anxiety, panic, manipulation

Virgil

Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind

-Nathaniel Hawthorne

It was a rude awakening for Virgil, the sunlight harshly coming in through the uncovered curtains and directly into his eyes. He blinked away rest, standing and stretching as he looked around. Roman still slept easy and for this, Virgil breathed a small sigh of relief. It had been startling when he had heard Roman shouting, even more startling when he saw Roman’s eyes wandering over his body looking for injuries that weren’t there. He had just moved out of bed, wandering towards his boots when a knock sounded at the door and Roman sat straight up, hands reaching for his lyre.

“I’m awake!” He shouted, blinking away sleep as Virgil went to open the door.

“Yes, Roman and now the whole inn knows you’re awake. Or at least they will if you keep shouting like that.” Virgil smothered a grin, opening the door to see the new addition of their group, Logan, sipping on a steaming mug of coffee with a tired smile.

“Morning to the both of you, I’m sure you slept well?” he looks between the two and waits for the nods they both give him. “Excellent, we’ll be leaving soon so if you could join me down in the bar I’d be appreciative.” Ice clung to his voice and it made Virgil wince at how unemotional, almost mechanical, he sounded. It was as if he was hoping to turn them away from the quest.

“We’ll be down within the next ten minutes.” His response was short, irritation spiked through the words but it was enough. Logan gave a small, polite nod and turned on his heel, away from the room. Virgil closed the door and leaned his head against it for two breaths. Three.

“Are you alright, shadow?” Roman called from his side of the room, already changing into his clothes for the day.  The man in question peeled his head off the cool wood of the door with a soft groan.

“I’m fine. Just wish that our new partner treated us more like companions and less like nuances.” Looking back over his shoulder he sees Roman, adjusting the circlet on his head, fingering the golden leaves that adorne the delicate metal. Stifling a snicker, Virgil moves to his own corner and is dressed within the next five minutes.

How they got there seemed like a blur, the remainder of the time in the room hazy as they packed up what little belongings they had brought. The hardest part of leaving the room was prying Roman, who had suddenly got hit with a wave of exhaustion and tried to sleep a few minutes more.

By the time they had gotten down the stairs, it felt like forever. They weren’t staying there another night, and though it had taken some time to get to the bar, it felt as if they just pulled all of their things up to their room. Time seemed to stop in this weathered old inn, he noticed. If  Virgil entered the inn a decade later, he could swear he would see the same weathered bartender and the same patrons. It was timeless.

The moment they stepped into the still sleepy tavern, Logan descended upon them, eyeing the pair before glancing back up the stairs. “Patton was not in the room this morning, so I suspect he went to look at the board early this morning. He would be sat at the table already with anything new.” he spoke quietly and almost as afterthought adds,  “If there were any.” Logan told them as they went down the stairs, but when they got to the last step, they saw the chairs still stacked over the tables, Patton nowhere in sight.

“Where is he?” Roman asked, depositing his things onto the floor by the table they had sat at the night before, Virgil following suit, clasping the cloak around his neck with his newly freed hands.

“Maybe he’s still out back?” the shadowdancer suggested,  looking towards the others with a shrug. Of all the things to be doing this early in the day, searching for a missing party member was the least ideal. Yet he couldn’t just not go. Gods forbid he makes Logan more irritable than he already is.

Logan looked towards the exit, “Only one way to find out, you coming?” He started towards the back, glancing over his shoulder to make sure they followed.

“Since when did he become our leader.” Virgil murmured under his breath, moving forwards to fall into step behind Logan, Roman by his side.

“You can’t tell?” Roman whispered besides him, looking both at him and the man in front of them.

“Tell what?” Virgil eyed the man in question. He was tall, dressed in deep navy robes with gray swirls and designs. Along his left arm were the markings of a wizard and on the left was a wound wrapped in strips of cloth. “He seems like every other Mage we’ve ever met. What is there to notice?”

Roman snickered at Virgil, much to his annoyance. “It’s the way he holds himself, Shadow. He’s a noble. The reason he seems so eager to lead us is probably due to the fact he’s told servants what to do his entire life. Why would adventuring be any different?”

The sudden realization hit Virgil, now aware of how Logan held himself. It was as if he was walking through a room with every single eye on him at once. The thought of that alone made his skin crawl but Logan seemed to survive just fine with the attention, even going through the motions that the people still gaped at him in a lonely, empty tavern.

In the end Roman and Virgil joined Logan in walking out to the back of the building. Virgil had yet to raise his hood as they left the room, so he took the opportunity as they moved, drawing his tattered hood up and over his face to keep the rising sun away from his eyes.                      

When the 3 of them emerged into the small town square, all six eyes locked onto Patton, his golden armor searing through the mist of the early morning like a lighthouse in a storm. He was holding the pages of the quests, staring at them with an attention that couldn’t be broken. It was evident about that when Logan started to call the other’s name and he didn’t answer.

It wasn’t as if he couldn’t him, the board wasn’t that far away so despite the wind, he should have heard his name being called. Almost instantly, chills erupted down the shadowling’s arms. Pulling his cloak tighter to his body, he watched the exchange between Logan and Patton.

It wasn’t till Patton started describing the figure that Virgil included himself in the conversation, immediately going rigid when he felt the coin, suddenly too heavy for his pocket. Everything was a blur until he murmured the words that send a shock through the    foursome’s bodies, as if they had been struck by lightning.

“That is the symbol of Skotos Sythos, patron God of assassins.” Virgil stuck the coin deep into his pocket once again. “He must have needed us for this quest. No one has seen him on this plane since the first shadows were created, dark touching the light as he walked.” he recited the story from memory, the only stories he heard for the first several months of his indoctrination to the league.

“Well then I propose we run as far away from this quest as we can.” Roman interjects, a small, apologetic look in his eyes. “I’m sorry but I don’t know how I feel running favors for the god of assassins. No offense, Shadow.”

Virgil represses the anger he so badly wants to unleash on his partner, instead settling for a cold stare. “It’s a god. Doesn’t matter which god, Roman. I don’t want to risk sudden death by not doing exactly as he wants.” To him, it seemed like common sense. Afterall, the gods were beings of thought, of pure energy that would burn the eyes out of a human skull should they so wish. Nothing made his skin crawl more than the thought of disobeying a god. His god. Roman was a different story, made obvious when he rolled his eyes.

“Oh come now Shadow, leave the eccentricities to yours truly. You’re being irrational. We could be risking our lives going.”

“And we could be risking our lives not going Roman!” the words came out sharper than he intended, nearing a shout when he suddenly became aware of the two newer members of the party that stood barely ten feet away.

Patton and Logan watched, intrigued and startled as the pair fought in front of them. When Virgil looked towards them his eyes narrowed and like a gushing stream the words flowed from his mouth, each one more anger tipped than the last.”And how about you two? Honestly think it’s a sign of wisdom, ignoring the orders of a god?”

Patton gazed down at him, a small frown on his face that crinkled the skin on his forehead. “Kiddo, take a breath. No one is angry with you here. Please, let us talk it out like adults in the inn, instead of the children you’re both impersonating.” A sharp glare is thrown at Roman, so quick Virgil almost misses it. “Now, let us order a pint of ale and we can discuss what our plan of action is.”

With an unsteady nod from each member, they head inside.

Once they were all seated and had plenty to eat and drink, aside from Patton for the eating portion, the discussions didn’t go very well. Roman continued to pester Virgil about not going, the young shadowdancer only getting more and more heated as the argument went on.

“It is too dangerous! We cannot risk our lives by going!” Roman shouted, glaring down at Virgil. His back was straight and his hood was down and off, body heating up so much it almost gave off the same effect as Patton’s chestplate.

“Then you stay here with them and I will go!” How dare you act like this. You’re my partner, asshole.

He rose and grabbed his things, heading towards his room that was still booked at the inn. Patton sprang from the table and ran after Virgil, making it just before the other slammed the door shut. “Virgil!”

“What Patton?!” Virgil responded with a loud and harsh voice, throwing his things on the bed and unpacking all of it so he could get at his knives and holder.

“What are you doing?” the Paladin asked, standing beside him, watching as he almost tears his bag apart finding his things.

“I am leaving to do the missions alone since no one seems to realize how dangerous it is to not do them.” The anger was still held in his voice, but the loudness that was once there got channelled into how fast he was speaking.

“No!” Patton blurted out. “You can’t go alone!” He grabbed onto Virgil’s arm, trying to tug it away from where he was placing the knives into their holders.

Virgil ripped his arm away and looked at the other. “Oh yeah, and why not?” Crossing his arms, the man glared up at him. “What is so bad about leaving on my own?”

Patton stuttered, not knowing how he should word that if he were to go alone more danger would be upon him. He knew Virgil would trust what he said if he told him that his God said it, but for some reason the words weren’t forming.

“Exactly,” Virgil scoffed, continuing to place the knives. “You have no argument, no sway in my mind. I can, and will, go alone. No one is going to stop me.”

The door suddenly burst open, Logan and Roman piling in. Well, it was more so that Logan was tugging Roman into the room and ushering him forwards and towards Virgil. “Do it,” Logan commanded.

Virgil paid almost no attention to them, finishing strapping on the last of his knives. He began to pack his things again, only now he was carelessly throwing things into the bag so it didn’t all fit. With a loud groan he threw his bag down and wound his fingers into his hair.

“Virgil, calm down,” Roman spoke slowly and calmly, reaching a hand out and gently placing it on his shoulder.

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!” Virgil swung around, knocking his hand off of him. “I always go on every adventure that you  want to go on. We rarely go ones that I need to go on.” He breathes heavily. “This is a single fucking quest that we can all participate in and that is so important to me, and you won’t do it. Maybe this grouping wasn’t a mistake. Maybe it was just you and I that were a mistake.”

Without grabbing his things, Virgil pushed his way through the three of them, running downstairs and back into the inn, disappearing to the back and sitting behind one of the posts. It was obvious that he was there, the posts weren’t that large, but he was able to get away for a bit and calm down.

Virgl tucked his knees to his chest, resting his head in them as he breathed deeply. He needed to calm down, it had been so long since he had felt this angry, years probably.

This whole thing is so important for him. The journey and the challenge and everything about it is something he holds dear to him, and for Roman to cast it aside as if it were nothing hurt. Roman is his friend, someone that chose him to be his partner and someone that Virgil has helped for years. They had each others back, so why in this moment does Roman not have his?

The sound of footsteps behind him cause him to curl tighter around himself. He knew they would come find him, he knew that they would convince him to go inside and to not go on the trip, that it wasn’t safe to do it alone. He didn’t care. He was doing it whether or not they agreed to it.

A figure stooped down in front of him, a white tunic showing through the little gaps where his arm didn’t cover his eyes. Roman.

“Virgil,” the bard says softly, placing a hand on the other’s knee. “Please look at me.” Virgil was hesitant to look up, knowing that his face looked like an absolute mess from the crying he had been doing, but when he raised his face to look at the other he was met with a soft and caring face, rather than the anger filled ne he saw before.

“I’m sorry,” Roman apologizes, slowly uncurling the man from himself. “But, if we do go, we need a gameplan.” He sighs and grabs Virgil’s hands, holding them tight and rubbing the back of them. “This means alot to you, so we’ll do it okay?”

Virgil nodded, tearing up more before throwing his arms around his friend and hugging tight. Roman could be as jerk at times, but he was his jerk.

It only took minutes for them to pack the clothes that Virgil had threw into the bag, meeting at the inn floor for the final time of their stay. They had made him sit aside while they tugged everything out of his bag and repacked it, making sure everything fit. Roman fixed his makeup, as the eyeshadow and eyeliner he caked under his eyes became streams of black down his face.

Virgil strapped his bandelier to his body, mindful of the many knives it held pressed to his skin. Once he was well armed, layers of fabric wrapped around his waist and arms to keep the chill of winter away from his body. The final touch was his worn hooded cloak, reaching for it to see Patton eyeing the ruined fabric and pressing the velvet between his fingers

“Why do you keep this?” he asks, no trace of disgust in his voice as he ran his fingers over the holes that littered the hood. “It has holes and slashes on it.” Patton looked up at the other as he shrugs.

“It’s a reminder that I am still here. Every one of those holes is a reminder of the journeys I’ve been through.” Virgil sat in front of Patton, gently running his hands over the fabric as well. It had been awhile since he really looked at the fabric, he never realized how many holes there really was.

“I can fix it for you,” Patton told him, looking up at the shadowdancer. “I don’t have black patches, but I have purple plaid. It could match the inside of it.” There was a hopeful sound to his voice, hoping that Virgil would say yes and let him sew it together once again. Fix all the seams that came undone.

Virgil looked over the holes again, and it would be nice to not have the wind blow through them, to be warmer when he crossed through the mountains. He had said no to so many people that wanted to fix it for him, but all held out black fabric, one that would cover all the journeys he went through. Patton wanted to keep those there, so you could still see how much he’d grown since taking the mantle from his master. Still, he thought back on his first day, a shiver making its way up his spine and down his arms.

Virgil was thrown to the floor for the fourth time that day, his master pacing in front of him and clicking her tongue, tutting at him in disapproval.  Kissing the floor, he stayed down, panting from the effort of his training and angry from the failed attempt at phasing into the darkness. “I can’t do it, Master. The shadows won’t obey.” He glared at the dark corners of the training room, watching the dark shadows swirl around him. They were laughing at him he was sure of it. He tried to stand and was suddenly pulled by his shirt to face his master, her eyes dark purple with rage. Darkness swirled around the palm twisting his shirt, her nails cutting into the fabric like butter.

“They have no reason to obey you as it is not your job to make them obey. You must only make them listen to you. They are the true masters and you are but a humble servant to them. Means of entertainment.” She twisted the fabric of his shirt even tighter around her fist until he was kneeling at her feet.  

“Bu- but master I am trying. They won’t listen.”

“Do you think they listened to me as I walked through the shadow plane? I walked through the shifters and the shadows, learning their secrets to become your teacher and you want to give up because it is hard?” She shoved him back to the floor and he fell hard, his wrists aching from trying to brace himself. Ellianna went back to standing over him. “Try harder. Get up and we dance again.”

The work was grueling, the footwork difficult and easy to ruin with the wrong step or jump. Yet he loved it. The boy who never wanted to work hard was enjoying his training. It was how he knew he was doing something he loved. As he fell to the floor the second time that night, his master fell beside him, dizzy from their dance.

“You have much to learn if you desire my place in the guild.” he opened his mouth to object but her stare silenced him and she continued, “However, today you were exemplary. Now sleep, child. We work again at sunrise.”

“Virgil? Kiddo, I’m gonna start on the cloak now, is that okay?” Patton’s voice, gentle and concerned, startled him from the memory. Like broken glass it shattered, leaving him gasping for breath.

“I’m...what were we talking about?” Virgil said between pants, taking in air like it was his favorite drink. “The cloak?”

“Yes! It shouldn’t take more than the ride upwards.” Quickly moving past the odd moment between the two, Patton held his hand out expectantly, waiting for Virgil to slide the cloak into his arms.

Just as he was about to do so, fingers reaching for the clasp at his throat, a small voice in the back of his head stopped him. But what if you need it? The voice argued. Instead, Virgil gave a small smile and reached forward to curl Patton’s fingers back into the hand they belonged to. “Let us survive this quest, then we shall talk about the change.”

Patton drops his arm, a small shrug accompanying the awkward fall of his arm. “As you wish. Now come along, the mountain awaits.”

The trip up the mountain was largely uneventful, cold kissing their skin with frost and ice as they dashed through the winter wind on horseback. Virgil kept his mask firmly pressed against his nose and mouth, relishing in the small warmth the mask brought his nose with every breath. Still, gooseflesh appeared rapidly on his skin as they rode on and in that moment, he regretted not having Patton patch his cloak.

Logan was sharing a horse with his partner in heroism, begrudgingly holding him by the waist. Warmth seemed to project out from the armor of the paladin, snow and ice melting instantly against the glowing surface of his armor, warmth Virgil was sure Logan was enjoying.  Hell, if he had any more self confidence and less dignity than he already possessed, Virgil was sure he too would be clinging to the silvery-orange light as well.

It was several hours before any progress was made finding the damned entrance to the cave, Roman complaining loudly about this fact as the others paid him no attention, eyes peeled for the entrance.

“I see nothing, it was most likely a trick. Something to waste our time with. Don’t you agree shadow?” Roman gazed across the way at his partner. Virgil went to respond when suddenly he felt a lurch below him, Sombra attempting to throw him off in fear. She would have succeeded too had Virgil not dug his heels deep into the muscle of Sombra’s back legs.

“Stop!” He shouted ahead of him without need. The others had long since stopped, moving quickly through the snow in his direction. Roman threw himself off the horse he sat upon, a rented mare from Senrof, and sprinted best he could through the foot of snow that lay upon the ground. Why is he so worried, it’s nothing more than an ice patch. It wasn’t until he felt snow fill his boots that he realized what the others had seen instantaneously. Virgil was sinking, the earth around them shifting and moving underneath as if they had done so wrong, the gods themselves were attempting to swallow them whole.

“Virgil! Get off of her!” Roman screamed, voice sounding as if it was 30 feet underwater. Anxiety swelled within him, the steady heartbeat he once had now roaring in his ears. His eyesight blurred, the concerned gazes of his friends now melting into the snow. Everything was melting, he was melting and if any gods were listening, he hoped they heard his prayers.

Gods save me. The snow was at his knees

What do I do? At his chest.

How can I get out? Around his neck.

Who’s gonna save me? He took one more scared, gasping breath and was under, the snow shifting under his weight. The warmth of Sombra, the only grounding tool he had in this moment, gone from under his body.

Pressure took over his body on all sides as the mountain swallowed him whole. He opened his mouth to scream and suddenly he was falling, any noise long since ripped away from his mouth. Is this how it ends?

Logan

I know that I am intelligent, because I know that I know nothing.

-Socrates

What just happened? The entire side of the mountain had crumpled away, leaving a gap in the ground three men across. Virgil had sunken to the depths of the cavern and Logan stood frozen, trying to wrap his brain around the scene before him.

Patton had Roman in a hold, arms behind his back down on his knees, to keep him from joining Virgil. They knew not how deep the hole was nor did they know if Virgil had survived the fall. While the paladin couldn’t save Virgil, Logan knew he would do his best to keep everyone else safe. It was his fatal flaw, the kindness he gave to everyone he met. A flaw they very much needed in this moment.

“Roman, we’ll get him back but we must think logically about this. We cannot just drop down into the cavern not knowing the depths it goes to.” Logan walked to the edge of the cavern, kicking up snow as he went. It was a dark drop, confirming his fears that they did not know how far the drop was.

“We’ve gotta get down there. He’s down there all by himself Logan,” Roman rushed out, his breath still heavy as he weakly tried to go down after his friend. Patton kept a hold on him as he looked at his partner who begun to pace in the snow, thinking of how they could get down there.

They were beside a once mountain that had caved in, there were no trees or rocks around that they could attach a rope to, no way to slide down a small hill into it and make it safely. There seemed no way to actually get down there besides falling.

Roman managed to break free from Patton’s grasp and go to the edge of the hole, skidding to a stop as the snow surrounded it dusted deep into the drop.  Logan was sure that if he had not caught Roman’s arm he would have slid in and dropped in after Virgil.

“There has to be a way to get down there,” Roman shouted out to no one in particular and shook Logan’s arm off of him, glancing around the giant hole. Spotting a swirling object on the opposite wall, Logan made his way around. Getting down on his hands and knees, he called Patton over and hung onto his hand, swinging his legs out over the chasm.

Exhilarating. The first words Logan could focus on as he hung over the edge, Patton’s grip rock solid on his arm. The air pulled at his body, attempting to draw him into the bottom of the pit they had unseemingly stumbled across. Ignoring the tug in his gut, Logan touched the dark swirling object at his hands. Almost instantly, the chasm started shifting, changing before his very eyes. Patton pulled him up immediately upon seeing the changes done to the opening in front of him.

Gorgeous black obsidian stairs appeared, spiraling their way down the now smoother pit. Torches lighting themselves every few feet as the stairs trekked deep into the darkness of the pit, too far down for them to see the bottom. Logan stood with his team in shock, mouth hanging open in surprise.

“Well...I believe you figured out how we get down there. Good job, Lo.” Patton stammered, impressed by what he had just witnessed.

“I dislike this, what if  it’s all a trap? The entrance alone seems too elaborate for an old cave. Someone wants us down here.” Yes, the stairs were glamorous and a worthy sight to see. However, glamor was not something he expected on a forgotten mountain. It reeked of danger. Getting that through Roman’s skull however, would prove to be the first in a long line of difficult tasks.

“It doesn’t matter!” Roman cried as he hustled to undo a small satchel attached to his bigger bag. “Virgil is down there and that is a way down there. We got what we wanted.” He secured the bag to his body, taking the lute from it to cradle in his arms. “I won’t just stand here while he’s down here. If it’s a trap, so be it. I won’t let Virgil face it alone.” Without a single glance back at the pair behind him, Roman stepped onto the first step. Logan watched his cloak billow out across his back as he descended into the darkness below.

“We can’t let them go alone, Logan. Let’s go.” Patton’s voice is definitive, leaving no room for argument.

Logan rolls his eyes, a small spark of flame coming to life at his fingertips. “Shall we go collect those idiots? Perhaps make some messes of our own along the way?” Despite the obvious severity of the situation, he couldn’t help but smile. Patton had the same idea, a grin making its way across his face.

“My thoughts exactly. Now, come along.” Patton grabbed what he needed and started to follow Roman down the steps, Logan quickly following suit. The walls of the cave were as dark as the stairs beneath their feet, leaving them with the illusion they had fallen into nothing. In some ways, we have. Neither of them talked, Patton led the way down his armor like a beacon in the night though his head was bent in an awkward angle. It didn’t take a genius to realize he was praying. Hell, he would be praying to if he thought the gods would help him in this instance. So they remained in a deafening silence, only broken by the occasional wail of wind echoing throughout the grand staircase.

In reality the walk lasted no more than an hour, yet Logan could barely breathe from the physical exertion it demanded of him, legs shaking. His robes were moist from condensation and his forehead was beaded with droplets of sweat. “Remind me again why I thought this was a good idea? The idea of going back up all those stairs makes me feel ill.”

Patton gave a soft chuckle, the energy in his voice bouncing off the cavern walls. “It is because you are a mage, Logan. While you may be fire at magic,” He interrupted himself to laugh as Logan rolled his eyes, “you have no muscle. I’m surprised your legs lasted as long as they did.”

Logan swallowed hard, nodding. “Well then, onwards and downwards I suppose. No sign of Roman or Virgil. Yet.”

“Turn around and you’ll find what you seek.” The calming voice behind him did nothing for Logan’s nerves, jumping a foot in the air. He pivoted on his feet, hands ready to cast whatever spell on the tip of his tongue before-

“I’m happy you’re safe!” Patton’s voice, too loud for a stealth mission, roared. He to had been startled but quickly moved on seeing their partners relatively unharmed despite the fall Virgil had taken.

Logan cleared his throat, lowering his hands with a small nod in the men’s direction. “It is quite the miracle you survived the drop, Virgil. Might I ask how?” Virgil sniffled, moving his head to the side. The tear tracks on his face were as obvious as the large scrape across his cheek, blood and tears mixing together. The kohl he kept smudged around his eyes had escaped its boundaries and traced alongside his nose and cheeks.

“I moved into the shadows.” he started,  sniffling again, “Jumped to the bottom of the cavern that way. But I couldn’t save Sombra.”  There was a moment of silence, initiated mostly by Patton, the foursome only listening to Virgil’s small sounds of sadness.

After a minute of the silence, Logan sucked in a deep, awkward breath. “So, shall we continue on.” It took longer than he would have liked but slowly, the others came out of their silence, murmuring under their breath and nodding along to Logan’s words.

“Where do you suggest we go? I’m sure you’ve noticed by now the doors.” Virgil waves his hand in a sweeping motion, pivoting on his feet to show the four doors, placed in the four cardinal directions on a compass, embossed with a scripted gold letter above each door, so one did not get lost in the spirals of the stairs.

“Of course I noticed them,” he hadn’t, “I was merely trying to think. Logically, now that we have you, we should move back up the stairs and away from this mountain. I see no point in continuing now that we know you’re safe.” He moved towards the stairs only to be jerked back by an iron tight hand on his shoulder.

“We’re going to complete this Logan. You said it yourself, someone wants us down here. I don’t trust the stairs to not collapse as we ascend, taking us down with them.” Patton releases him, pulling him towards the shiny metallic armor and away from the glossy black stairs, now more ominous than inviting.

Logan brushed himself off, irritation rumbling in his gut as if a herd of mice were let loose in his body. I’m supposed to be the smart one. “Very well. Then I say we head into the mountain, through the eastern door?” Confidence shaken, the statement molded into a question and he winced internally at the realization. “Sound good?” Everyone nodded in agreement, grabbing any dropped bags before moving forwards towards the door with a golden “E” stamped above the door.

They moved onwards, heading deeper into the cold underground, away from the beautiful onyx staircase and into the depths of the dungeon below. Logan stayed at the back of the party, wisely allowing Virgil to move to the front should they come across any traps. He braved one last glance back to the entrance they had just left behind and saw the room flicker, like a dying fire still clinging to the last of its embers, before vanishing entirely. A stone wall was to his back now, no proof that the room he’d walked to had any exits other than the one in front of them.

Clearing his throat, Logan grabbed everyone’s attention. “The only known way out has vanished.” He jerked his head back towards the stone wall behind him and ignored their confused faces, “We need to be careful, and vigilant. There are other powers at play here. Powerful ones. I would prepare yourselves, only the best is going to do us any good down here.” Shivers went up the groups spines, the cold interior of the hallway grew to a new level of cold. Ice crept along the walls for mere moments before shattering onto the floor.

With the subtlety of a bull -and  intellect to match- Roman swung around to gape at the opening of the exit, eyes wide at seeing the full extent of their situation. “Logan, how will we get out if the only entrance we know of is 300 feet in the air behind a stone wall?”

Logan raised an eyebrow in surprise. To him, the question was as obvious as the answer and it was very much par for the course that Roman not understand either.  “Well-”

He began only for Virgil to take the words from his mouth, as easily as he breathed.

“We don’t. We’re trapped down here and the only way out is through.” The group had long since continued walking, leaving the stone wall several feet back before Virgil jerked to a stop, halting the party.

“Is there a problem, Virgil?” Logan tapped his foot, scrunching his nose as he waited.

“Tripwire, almost missed it. The wire is very thin, fragile looking to. I don't think I can disable it but I don’t want to leave it armed in case we need to run back this way.”

“Sounds like a problem you don’t have the solution for, shadow.” Roman piped up, a playful smile on his face that drew a similar one across Virgil’s almost instantly.

“Well, I have an idea. You guys won’t like it.” Virgil glanced back at the party, eyes landing on Logan. Is he asking my permission? Giving a hesitant nod, Virgil looked back at the two excluded from the exchange and took a shaky breath. “I’m going to trip this. Stand back and on my count, hit the floor as fast as you can.”  Observing the younger man, Logan saw his hands, bunched in the cloak before smoothing it over with shaking hands.

“You sure you’re up for this? You’re shaking.” Logan pushed past the others to aid Virgil but was stopped by a hand, two inches from his chest.

“I’m fine, Logan. I studied for things like this in the league. It’s just not something I enjoy doing. The risk factor is just a little too rich for my blood.” He crouched to the floor, leather gloves reaching for the thin wire. Logan moved to the floor and onto his stomach preemptively kissing the ground before he was forced to the floor by whatever Virgil tripped. Roman and Patton followed suit.

Glancing up from his place on the floor, Logan observed the shadowling.  He began to gaze at the trap in front of him, studying it as if it were an intricate puzzle, Well I suppose for someone like him, it is,  Logan mused. Then, he stood from his crouched position, and snuck his foot underneath the space where the wire lay. Then, so quick he almost missed it, Virgil brought his foot up to touch the wire before continuing forwards on that foot, hitting the floor just in the nick of time. On all sides, arrows began to fly. Had they -Virgil-  not caught the trap, everyone would surely be dead.

“Well, that was an interesting experience. I vote we never do that again.” Logan spoke, voice muffled from the floor as he peeled his face away from the stone tiles.

“Seconded, I almost broke my skull against the stones.” Roman sounded from behind, irate he had to drop to the floor.

“Well maybe if you had dropped the floor more gracefully,” Virgil began before being slugged in the arm by Roman. “What the-”

“Okay! Let’s not get into this. Virgil, excellent job on the trap. Roman, how about we let him continue so we may exit this dungeon in one piece?” Ever the diplomat, Patton pulled them apart, snaking an arm around Roman’s waist and pulling so he walked by the paladin.

Better he deal with them than I. Logan mused in his head. Had he pulled them apart, they’d all be shouting. Having no patience for stupidity was as much a vice as it was a virtue. He stood to full height and rolled his shoulders back, addressing the group around him.  “Well then, onwards and outwards? Virgil, I agree with Patton. You should take the front. I’ll follow behind.” No one questioned him and they were once again moving on.

It was a slow process, and there were several close calls as Virgil disarmed the traps. Several hours seemed to pass before the cavern hollowed out again. Glossy black stairs appeared again before the travelers and Logan let out a long groan at the sight. “We’re back where we started.”

The resounding groans came after like an echo. “Honestly maybe we should just give up. Nothing this cave could offer is worth dying for.” Roman spoke up, leaning on the walls.

Logan opened his mouth to agree, beg Patton to leave up the stairs the way we came, but was shut down when Virgil spoke up.

“You’re right, nothing down here is worth dying for. But how do we know those stairs aren’t certain death waiting to happen. We should pick a new path, now that the one to the east is no longer available to us.”

Looking around, Logan saw he was correct. The 4 now only faced with 3 more options, the door they just came from was no longer there. Just a flat black wall, as if the tunnel had never existed in the first place. The room was tense, emotions so thick they could be cleaved with an axe as they considered abandoning this and returning up the flight of stairs, but they knew that this adventure was worth travelling through. Besides, Logan could feel the negative magic around the stairs if he focused on them. It was dark. Not reliable.

“Which next?” Virgil asked, adjusting his clothing and scanning the doors. “We got 3 options.”

Logan sighs heavily, glancing at their options. “Perhaps West? Go underneath the city and to the other mountain?” He looked towards them, earning a nod from each. “Can we take a break?” Patton asked, slumping against a wall.

“Probably not a wise decision,” Virgil spoke before Logan could, catching his attention. “It isn’t nice to keep gods waiting.”

“Well then, I suppose we try this path?” Logan swept his hand to the west, allowing Virgil to go first once more. Single file they moved down the next hallway, already different than the original one they had fled down.

This one had walls of white marble with a floor to match, as if they had stepped into a different world. No one spoke and in the strange whiteness, the silence seemed so much louder than any conversation Logan could think of. Even his own thoughts stilled in the room and a feeling of unease washed over the mage, filling him with nausea and discontent.

They moved through the hall quickly despite the endless illusion the white walls gave off and soon they arrived in a large cavernous room. It was harsh to gaze at after so long in the white and Logan turned away with a wince at the sight of it. “It seems we’ve come across a new room, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Well if I could see it I would. The hallway did nothing but hinder my eyesight.” Roman shielded his eyes, mimicking the others as they stepped into the room.

“Well, it certainly looks different.” Logan commented slowly, looking around as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light. The rest followed suit and soon all eyes could see the cavern they had stumbled upon.

It was a dim room, only lit by a scattering pattern of torches and Patton’s armor. It was a natural cavern and any feeling of natural stopped there. It felt wrong. Logan never chose to trust the feelings bubbling his gut. However in this instance, it was the only thing he could here. Get out, Get Out, GET OUT.

The feelings were overwhelming and Logan turned, desperate to leave, and smacked face first into the wall. His head made a sickening thwack as it connected to white marble. The exit had closed. They were trapped in the room.

“Scared Logan? The room to much for your giant brain? Or maybe your ego can’t fit.” Patton was laughing at him and just like that, the mage’s spine went ridgid. In the years he had known the older man, he never once teased Logan. And he would never, make fun while Logan was so clearly frightened. It was wrong. It was then he realized how much darker the room and become. For the first time since they had met, Patton’s armor gave no heat, it’s glow not present in this room.

Roman was snickering as well, and just like that Virgil had moved towards Logan. “I dislike what this room does to me. We need to find a way out of it.” The assassin’s words were hollow, a mask over the gaggle of emotions he was sure to be feeling.

Swallowing hard, Logan nodded. “We need to find a way out.”

As if the gods themselves were against this idea, one god in particular he noted, smoke began to fill the room and soon they were shrouded in it. The smoke became all consuming until even trying to see Patton, who was only a mere foot away, became a burden. Not that I want to see you anyways, Logan thought. Something was wrong with his partner and he knew not what. Pulling the magic from his body, he took a deep breath and sunk his eyes into the veil of magic.

The smoke glowed with a bright gold magic, as did the eyes of Roman and Patton. It was strong, godly in origin. “What is this Sythos? Reaching for us through our friends to ensure you make it out unscathed?” His hands remained at his sides, refusing to do any sorts of damage to them. To him, he corrected. It wasn’t his friends anymore. They had been taken over.

Roman smirked, barely noticeable through the smoke and Virgil sucked in a breath next to him. “Why I’ve come to tell you your quest, wasn’t that the point of this...I’m sorry what did you call the first mission? A test run?” he picked at his nails, unamused.

Patton’s voice rang through the air and Logan stiffened as Sythos continued speaking through his friend, as if the transition from one to another had never happened.  “Seems a difficult challenge, for a trial run I mean. Will you be able to withstand it?” Patton’s body shook with laughter, the form becoming clearer as the smoke unwound around their bodies. He wants us to see this, the sick bastard.

Logan turned away, unable to face his friend as he kept speaking with words that didn’t belong to him. “Stop this madness and let us through. We shall do what you ask if you tell us, your mind games are of no use here.”

“We seek the idol, bring it to us in the final room, only those with mortal blood may take the idol from its resting place. You shall bring it to us if you want any hope of leaving here alive. Now scatter, before things in the room become...interesting.” In unison they spoke, the words mixing with a third. It was a deeper voice that was soothing, yet still sent Logan’s skin crawling. Virgil had long since left the conversation, mentally that is, gazing down at the floor and shaking his head mindlessly.

“Done. I’ll do what you ask. Now leave their bodies.” Logan tried to bring power to his voice but even then it felt weak compared to the power of three that was in front of him.

They laughed, the third voice once again pouring from their bodies. “As you wish.”

Like a lantern being lit, the problems were over as soon as they begun. The smoke dissipated from the room and the pair slumped to the floor, eyes rolling into the backs of their heads. Logan was too stunned to catch them and they fell to the cavern floor with a disturbing thunk, followed by some painful groaning.

“I feel as if my brain’s been yanked through my nose.” Roman spoke, sitting up onto his knees as Patton rolled over onto his back. Both men were bleeding, Patton from a gash across the forehead and Roman from his nose, the mass of flesh sitting crooked on his face.

“I feel the same, as if someone robbed me of my mind for a few seconds.” Patton sat up, the cut bleeding down his face and into his eyes. Once again his armor was glowing. If it wasn’t for the blood maring his childish face, Logan would assume nothing had ever happened. Unfortunately, this was something Logan was sure he’d never forget.

“You were under the control of Skotos Sythos it seems. He’s been playing with us this entire time.” His voice broke, the fear crawling up his throat like a demon escaping hell until he forced it back down to the pit of his stomach. “We need to just give him what he demands, pray that this nightmare ends.”

Virgil nodded, tears staining his face. The kohl around his eyes was around his mouth now, smudged beyond recognition of where it was originally. He resembled a living corpse in every way, from the hollow look of his face to the blood covered scab on his cheek. “We need to move on, escape this hell before it takes anymore of us.”

“Once we get whatever he wants, we shall escape Shadow. It’s going to be okay.” Roman tried to sound reassuring as he stood, but Logan could tell no one believed in his statement.

Patton stood, the cut on his forehead closing shut as he heals it with his magic. “Onwards then? I feel you should explain properly what has conspired in our absence.”

Logan gulped, nodding. “Let us leave this room first, it’ll be much safer to explain as we walk.” He gestures towards the white marbled hall, unblocked by the wall there once was.

Bloodied and broken, they advanced, moving as far away from the room as they could. With each step Logan felt better though he still harbored fear in his gut.  They appeared once more in the room of doors although the staircase was gone, only one door remaining. They stepped through, finding no more hallway of tricks. It was a room.

Elegance oozed over every aspect of the room they had stumbled across. Torches the size of a small hut burned around the room and in the center stood an empty throne.

The throne was the least elegant thing about the room, simple polished metal warped into a seat that vaguely resembled a thicket bush.  Laid out in front of it, a table of tarnished wood stood draped in an embroidered gold and black cloth.

Logan dropped his hands, exhaustion seeping into every corner of his body until he could feel the throbbing ache of his muscles protest the use of magic. “This seems to be the room,we certainly have come to the end of his tricks. We must be in the right place.” His voice was tainted with relief. It was too good to be true.  

Patton clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Let us keep our guard up, better guarded than ambushed.” The weapon he held carved light in the small patches of darkness, washing the area in more light than the torches could ever provide. He neglected to put his weapons down much to Logan’s thanks. If forced to cast even once, he was positive he’d combust. Not that he’d ever willfully admit it. “Now what is it we’re looking for?” The glowing knight shifted uncomfortably in his place, casting shadows across the smooth stone walls. “What did we say to you two while under his control?” Out of the two, Patton seemed the most disturbed as Logan recounted what had been said under the dark gods control.

Logan hesitated. “You said that there was an idol, hidden in the room. That if we wanted to live, we would bring it to your masters.”

Virgil kicked a lone stone off into the scattered shadows of the room. “One problem, you didn’t specify the location of the idol nor where your master is. One can assume Skotos is behind this, however, I know not where the fun loving bastard is.”

“Well perhaps we start with the throne? Afterall, all things of worth seem to collect around a king.” Roman walked along a lit path, up to the warped metal chair. Virgil kept in step alongside the bard, leaving Patton and Logan to follow behind.

“What does an idol even look like?” Patton turned to his partner, the question obviously asked at him.

“It could be anything really. Based on what I read it will hum with magic, since most idols are artifacts of the gods. It may look tarnished or damaged, in order to hide its true worth.” Logan gave the answer loud enough that the others could hear but kept his eyes on Patton.

“So a tattered old coin sitting in the middle of a deserted throne fit the description well enough?” Roman called back, moving forwards to scoop it up.

Logan’s stomach dropped into an abyss he didn’t know his body possessed as the next few seconds seemed to happen. It was too slow, everyone was too slow. Roman’s fingers touched the coin just as Virgil gave a shout.

“Roman stop! It could be-” his words were lost in the thundering explosion that shook the cavern walls. Logan felt his face knock against cool metal, and then he knew nothing but the swell of black that took over.

Roman

“One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.”

-Bob Marley

Pain. It was all consuming. Red hot in some places and cold throughout the rest of his body, he quickly grew accustomed to the agony and struggled to blindly push himself up off the ground.  He opened his eyes, trained on the floor, the simple beaten gold coin still held firmly in his hand, magic pulsing throughout the metal.  All this work for a simple piece of currency?

He should never had touched it. Never should have looked at it. The group should have gone down for Virgil and come straight back up those damned stairs. This shouldn’t have happened. Like lightning traveling down a sword, a shock went through his body. Virgil, where is Virgil. The other man had been right at his side when he reached for the idol.

Trying to blink away the haziness that ecompased his vision, Roman was able to see Virgil barely an arm’s length away, struggling to stand just like he had been. The blast sent them back as Roman had ran to try and grab the idol, pushing past his team mates. Virgil had tried to stop him a moment too late and it showed in his body. His clothing was in tatters, the cloak he always wore miraculously intact. It was what he focused on, all he could focus on that wasn’t bloody or mared.

Before being sent flying to the back of the room, Roman heard a shriek of his name and then nothing,  his vision turning black. It must’ve been Virgil, trying to keep him from killing them all.

Virgil attempted to stand again but crumpled to the floor within seconds, a small gasp of pain escaping his mouth that slammed Roman back into the present. Reaching a hand out, he gripped Virgil’s arm tugging him close as hard as he could and making the other fall beside him.

“R-Roman...why did you grab it?” Virgil whimpered out, coughing afterwards into his palm, now stained crimson against his shredded leather gloves.

“I’m sorry my shadow… I didn’t think. Now, let me help you.” Roman shut his eyes and blocked out Virgil’s confused words, only to turn to desperate pleas when Roman started to sing. It was beautiful but awful, a soothing melody told through a rough voice. The last song he’d sing for his shadow and he couldn’t even bring himself to sing it right. It wasn’t what Virgil deserved but it was all Roman could give in these last moments.

“Roman don’t. Please don’t! You don’t have enough energy!” Virgil cried, trying to shake the other to get him stop. But it was too late, the song finished and Virgil felt better, but Roman looked worse, pale and hollow.

“Roman! Why?!” he cried and moved to hold his partner close. Roman chuckled weakly. The cuts on Virgil were already healing, wounds knitting themselves back together as if they never happened. It put a smile on his face, knowing that at the very least he had saved someone.

“You’re my shadow… the day we met… I vowed to keep you safe… that won’t end now…” His voice was weak and slow, his breathing getting slower and shallower. No! This wasn’t supposed to end like this! Virgil cried harder.

“I-I love you Roman…” Virgil rasped out, looking at his friend. He dragged his hands over Roman’s hair, offering comfort in this last moment.

“I love you too my shadow.”

And with that final declaration, his eyes shut and his breathing stopped, all color draining from his face.

Virgil

We are dust and shadows

Virgil wept, broken sobs escaping his mouth. His dead partner, friend, his everything lay in his lap, eyes still open with a lopsided smile on his face. A shaky hand moved up, closing his eyes and stroking his hair. What did I do? Virgil felt awful. Hollow. This was his fault, he did this. It was his stupid idea to go looking and get sucked down that hole he barely survived, that his partner didn’t survive.

Partners. As if everything was against him, Virgil heard a loud scream coming from a few feet away, catching his attention. Looking over, he saw Patton and Logan in the same position he was, only Logan was slumped over Patton’s body, blood staining the cold, lifeless metal.

“Patton… no…” Logan cried again, clutching his partner's body close as blood mixed with the river of tears that were flowing down his face.

Try as he might, Virgil couldn’t bring himself to look away from Logan, desperately shaking Patton. It was no use. Before he could think more, a voice from the middle of the room caught the remaining men’s attention.

“Why thank you, young heroes.” The words rolled off his tongue as an insult and Virgil would have flinched had there been any more energy in his body. Above him Skotos Sythos, his god, was making his way over and grabbing the idol that sat in Roman’s limp hand.

“You should be proud to have found the idol. Not many people have survived the challenges of the caverns around us.” Virgil felt sick, tired. All the things you were supposed to feel when dying. Betrayal was the newest feeling, swelling in his stomach till it was all-consuming over his person. Despite the wounds and anxiety bubbling in his throat he moved Roman’s body to the floor and stood, face to face with his god.

“I worshiped you. I did everything you asked. For years. A decade and a half of my life wasted on you. And...and you killed them.” He broke on the last sentence, tears spilling over the waterline and running down his face. “For what? A stupid idol? Take it if you must, and leave before more blood is spilled.” Despite his efforts, he knew any threats would roll right off the bastard. He’s a god. What could you possibly do to him?  This thought proved true when Skotos Sythos chuckled, low and smooth. It would have been comforting had Virgil not been so disgusted with his very presence.

“You are so young, so confused. You think you can defeat me? A god?” He laughed long and hard, the sounds bouncing off the walls. The god before him raised a hand and Virgil took in a breath, waiting for his death that would surely come…

And the god lowered his hand, taking in VIrgil’s form like a cat examining a lone canary. “You’re protected by my daughter I see. You wear her cloak afterall. I could not kill you while it rests on your skin so I shall spare you this time. But be warned, I don’t spare my enemies a second time. Heed this warning and go on with your life while it is still deemed worthy of living. Behind the god, a door of pure black appeared. Skotos Sythos gave one last chuckle, flipping his prize in his hand, before disappearing through the black. The door closed behind him and he collapsed to the floor, drained of all energy.

Virgil would get his revenge, no matter what. But now was not the time to think of that, there were more important things at hand. Like getting two bodies to the surface to bury.

Patton

Life doesn’t discriminate, between the sinners and the saints.

(It takes and it takes and it takes)

-Hamilton

He opened his eyes to a perfect sky, lush greenery underneath his feet. Sitting up, he saw the clearing he laid in, surrounded on all sides by tall oak trees. It was startling, trying to remember where he was, where he came from. It came back in short bursts.

The stairs, glossy and black.

Virgil and Logan, faces pale with fear as he bled from his head.

The explosion

His arms opening to grab Logan, protecting him from the shrapnel.

Black.

Patton took deep, needy breaths, looking around the world he had awoken to. That’s when two figures appeared at the treeline. His confusion settled, relief pouring over him. “My god, my goddess, what has happened here? Where am I?”

They smiled, the gods of earth and nature looking down upon him fondly. “We have much to discuss if you’re to return to the mortal realm.”