#but i’ve always watched mumbo as soon as possible

[ashironie]

i was on youtube checking my notifications and i saw on my subscriptions feed that mumbo had the little red dot so i gasped very loudly and very excited, because that meant mumbo posted and i just hadn’t noticed, since i always find out mumbo posted by my subscriptions feed

last video i found out via notification.

the subscriptions feed only updates when you look at it, not when you have looked at the video in question.

the disappointment was immense.

[quaranmine]

New World, New Faces

When the hermits moved to their new world, they were excited to welcome two new members. But maybe one is an old friend instead . . .

Grian hasn't seen Pearl since Evo. It's a shock.

No romantic relationships or content warnings. Mainly emotional hurt/comfort, but probably more emphasis on comfort. Hermits: Grian, Pearl, and Mumbo primarily with a little bit of Scar and Xisuma as well. Reblogs appreciated and AO3 link in reblog!

Words: 3893

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These days, Grian was pleased to say that the Watcher’s didn’t occupy his mind nearly as often as they used to. Except on certain late nights where he lay in bed and thought of before, his time was mostly spent having fun--scheming, pranking, building, planning, mining, laughing with friends. It wasn’t something he could forget, but the hermits had become his new home, and as years passed the edges of those memories had dulled a bit.

The other times where the Watchers occupied his mind were update days. Since joining hermitcraft, Grian had gone through several updates with the rest of the server. Sometimes they moved to a new world, and sometimes they stayed in their old one. No portals of bedrock ever appeared, but Grian always thought of them just the same. It always felt like maybe, just maybe, one day he’d turn around and see their signature portals once again.

Watchers didn’t always leave portals to update worlds. Grian hadn’t known that until he’d been put to work as a Watcher himself. Oh, the Watchers were still in charge of updating worlds, but they often did it more subtly, without grand towers and quests for portals. It’s hard to retain status as a myth when everyone knows your calling card, afterall. Admins always knew when it was time to update. Grian hadn't, back on Evo, because he’s always been told.

It turned out Evo had been different, and Grian didn’t know how to feel about that. Evo wasn’t the only world to receive special attention from the Watchers, but it was one of their favorites. Why them, though? Why did the Watchers keep such a close eye on their world in particular? Why were they left towers and clues and prizes and punishments, when other servers were mostly left alone?

Why did they kill everyone and kidnap Grian?

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

Grian stood in a group with the other hermits, eagerly waiting for the move to the new world. He bounced a little in anticipation. He was excited for the new update--he knew very little about its contents, but it seemed like there would be some new building blocks to play with, according to Xisuma.

He already had plans for the new world--new bases and new shenanigans. Grian was excited to build close to his friends. Xisuma had informed them that another update would come in a few months, and for the hermits to stick close in the time being so that new land would be freed up for the coming update. Grian had already known about the second update for a while, as all Watchers do, but he let Xisuma handle all of this as admin. Those days were behind him, now, and there was no reason to start exercising Watcher powers in a world that was carrying on just fine on its own.

“Is everyone ready?” Xisuma shouted over the chatter, trying to do a headcount. “Hey!” he shouted, trying to get everyone’s attention. Slowly, the chatter quieted.

“Looks like it,” said Iskall.

“Good,” Xisuma said. “Now, before we go, I wanted to remind you that we have two new people joining us this time. I’ve already made arrangements with them prior so they’re gonna be waitin’ for us when we go through.” He grinned. “Be on your best behavior for me, alright?”

“I’m always on my best behavior,” Keralis replied, and Xisuma rolled his eyes fondly.

Grian smiled, remembering his welcome to hermitcraft a few years ago. Unlike this time, nobody had been expecting him. Grian hadn’t been invited like these two new hermits had been, he had just been there when the hermits arrived on their new world. None of the other hermits knew quite why he was there, but they’d all accepted him graciously nonetheless.

Grian liked that memory. The truth is, he’d fled the Watchers and picked an uninhabited world at random, not realizing it had already been reserved by Xisuma. That was a failure on his part as a Watcher, because he was supposed to know about stuff like that. But he had been too busy running to worry about it and besides, there was nobody on hermitcraft to punish him.

The hermits had welcomed him with kindness and made him part of their family. Now he’d gladly do the same for these new soon-to-be hermits.

“Okay . . .” Xisuma said, typing something into his admin panel. “I’m just setting up the portal now.”

They were all gathered in the shopping district, right in front of the Town Hall. Grian took his chance to take one last glance around at the world. The diamonds in the trees glittered in the morning light, sending little reflective shards of light scattered on the ground. Moving worlds was always bittersweet, because it meant parting with the things he’d worked hard on and the places he’d made memories at. But it was also one of his favorite things to do, because it gave everyone a blank slate to work with, sparking endless new creativity.

“I wish I could take some of those with me,” chuckled Scar, as he walked up next to where Grian was standing. He pointed at the diamonds.

“Well of course you want them, Mr Mayor!”

“Uh-uh,” Scar said. “I’m not the Mayor anymore! This is a new world.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see what we get up to in the next one, huh?” Grian asked. “Do you have any plans?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Scar teased.

“I guess I will.”

“Do you have any plans?”

“I don’t know,” said Grian. He thought for a moment. “I might make a cave base. I guess I’m waiting to see what’s out there for inspiration before I start.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing it,” Scar replied. “Oh! It looks like Xisuma is ready.”

Grian looked up, to see X opening a portal. It wasn’t a nether portal, nor was it like an End portal. It wasn’t a Watcher portal either, but an Admin one. Grian had come to realize that Watchers supplied Admins with the means to move into updates on their own when they wanted to. The bedrock portals and scavenger hunts were reserved for their favorite worlds--their toys.

Sometimes the Watchers liked to flex their powers, but the universe is not kept running smoothly if all your time is spent flexing. Grian brushed away the thought, choosing to focus on his friends in front of him instead.

One by one, the hermits stepped through the portal, which swirled light blue and hovered just slightly off the ground. Grian hung back, wanting to be one of the last ones through. He wanted to make sure everyone made it through alright, but Xisuma had to be the very last person, since he needed to close the portal. When it was finally his turn, he gave Xisuma a smile and walked forward.

Grian stepped through, into the bright sunlight of a village, and was surrounded by the voices of his friends.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

Spawn was a village in a grassland, next to a swamp and overlooking the ocean. It looked a little plain, but the hermits hadn’t left their mark on the world yet. Behind Grian, Xisuma stepped out into the new world and the portal vanished behind him.

Everybody was crowded around a ditch chattering, apparently exchanging greetings with the two new hermits that stood inside it. Grian held back for a moment, taking it in and basking in the sounds of his friends’ voices. Finally, he wasn’t the new one anymore--a few people had rejoined the server in the last world, but they’d all been old friends, not new ones. That had left him being the most recent addition, not that anything felt like it was recent anymore.

Grian was already thinking of ways to prank the new hermits and draw them into the life of the server.

“Alright Mumbo!” Xisuma said. Grian grinned. Mumbo was supposed to introduce them. Mumbo, of course, didn’t know this, because where’s the fun in that?

“Oh-oh me?”

“It’s go time!” Cleo said.

“This is it!” said Xisuma.

“I’ve clearly very obviously been put up to this,” Mumbo started. “And because everyone thought it’d be much funnier to have me bumble through it without really knowing what I’m talking about, and that is definitely going to be the case!”

The hermits chuckled. Grian walked around the back of the group to try to catch a glimpse of the new people below.

“We do have two new hermits,” Mumbo said, “down in this crevice.”

Grian caught a glimpse of red and brown hair.

“GeminiTay-”

Grian’s world stopped and he felt his breath catch in his throat. She had her back to him, but he’d recognize her anywhere. Her brown hair spilled out from behind a black hoodie.

But she’s dead.

Was this some sort of cruel trick from the universe?

“-and PearlescentMoon.” The rest of the hermits cheered at the announcement, giving the new members a warm welcome. Grian said nothing, his mind spinning a mile a minute.

There was no way it was actually her. The Watchers . . . the Watchers had killed her, and every other Evolutionist. Grian didn’t know why. He would never know why, because with the Watchers it was always “you can’t possibly understand.”And Grian couldn’t. When Grian had finally escaped them, he tried to go back to Evo. It was a foolish attempt, one that would certainly have endangered the lives of anyone there, but nobody had been left there and the buildings were all destroyed and overgrown with vines and Grian had been forced to conclude the heavy truth that all of his old friends were gone.

He didn’t remember what he did after that. He just ran.

Before he could stop himself, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. “Pearl? Is that really you?”

She turned, hearing her name and--it was. It was her. Her hair had blonde highlights around the bangs now, but he’d recognize her anywhere, like her face and the faces of all the other Evolutionists were seared into his brain.

“. . . Grian?”

Grian just stared.

The other hermits had caught onto their mini debacle, and were watching them. “Grian, do you know her?” Mumbo asked.

“Y-yeah, I do,” he stammered.

“Grian?” Pearl shouted, and in an instant had scrambled up the ditch. She stopped in front of him, face pale and eyes wide, like she’d seen a ghost. Maybe he was a ghost, maybe he’d died the day they took him from Evo.

“Pearl,” he whispered.

Suddenly she threw her arms around Grian in a hug and squeezed. “Oh, it’s been so long,” she said, voice muffled.

Grian froze, but slowly reciprocated the hug. He felt numb and like he wanted to cry and scream at the same time, hands shaking, but Pearl’s warm embrace drew him back down to reality.

Pearl pulled away, blinked tears from her eyes and met Grian’s stare. Then, her gaze drifted further down, landing on his folded wings that peaked out just above his shoulders. Tentatively, she reached out to stroke a feather. “What happened to you?” she asked softly.

“I thought you were dead,” Grian said by way of answer.

“Well, I’m not,” Pearl said, and for a moment Grian almost didn’t believe her, and grabbed her wrist tightly, just to see if it was real. Pearl let him. “They took you,” she said.

Grian just looked at the ground, uncomfortably aware of how many people were watching him. Ironic, almost--he didn’t want them watching him so that they wouldn’t know about the Watchers. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the hermits. He did. He’d trust them all with his life a thousand times. He just . . . didn’t want to explain. The hermits were a good bunch. The unspoken rule was that you didn’t ask about anyone’s past unless they spoke first, and Grian knew they’d abide by that for him as well. But he could do without the turned heads.

“Alright everyone!” Xisuma shouted suddenly, startling Grian. “Let’s go, let’s get to work, this season won’t start itself!” Slowly, the hermits began to disperse, branching off into groups. “How’re ya gonna start the season if you don't chop down a tree? I’ll get to work protecting these villagers.”

Xisuma threw a glance over to them, and Grian mouthed a thank you. Xisuma just nodded, and left them alone. Grian was overwhelmed with relief at the admin’s gesture.

He turned back to Pearl.

“I-I can’t believe you’re actually here,”Grian said. He smiled and the moment he met her gaze, his eyes began to blur with tears.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” she cried. “When we got back from fighting the enderdragon you . . . you were just gone. They left a note for us . . . said it was necessary for you to be taken. All in rhyme, of course.”

“Of course it was in rhyme . . .'' Grian muttered, suddenly very angry. All the Watchers and their unknowable ways, always distilled down to some pithy saying. A life-changing event relayed to his friends in another stupid little poem. He’d written a few himself and despised it.

“I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again. Do you . . . do you mind if I ask what happened?” Pearl asked. “I’m just happy to see you here but I-”

“No, it’s alright,” Grian said with a sigh. “They took me after I fought the enderdragon, and said I was going to be one of them. I didn’t want to go but-well what could I do? So I went with them, and they promised to let me hang around the server. They lied to me, they never let me Watch Evo.” Grian paused, and felt the cool trail of a tear dripping down his cheek. “They later told me you were all dead.”

“Oh, Grian,” Pearl said, and pulled him into another hug, and that was it for him. He began to sob.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “It’s just a lot-”

“I know, I know,” she whispered.

“They-they . . . I didn’t enjoy it there. So I, I ran away. I tried to visit Evo but--there was nobody there. I figured they told the truth then, that you really were dead. I ran and found the hermits and I’ve been living with them every since, and oh they’re so wonderful but I could never forget-”

“It’s okay.” Pearl comforted. “I know, I know. We came home after finding the dragon and our place was ransacked, and we were given instructions to leave. And . . . eventually after we left, the group disbanded and we went our separate ways. But, we’re all alive.”

“Really?” Grian asked.

“Yes.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Can I- can I see them?” he whispered. It felt forbidden.

“Of course!” Pearl exclaimed. “I’ve kept in touch with everyone, I’m sure Xisuma could help you visit if you asked.”

“Xisuma . . .” Grian thought aloud. “I haven’t told him,” Grian admitted. The admin certainly knew something was up with Grian, because players didn’t normally randomly appear in worlds they weren’t supposed to, but he’d welcomed Grian with open arms to the server and never asked a single question.

“I’m sure he would understand.”

“He would, but Pearl, I don’t want to put anyone in danger! I’m not supposed to be here!” Grian hissed.

“So then don’t tell him everything. Just say you want to visit some people. He’ll understand, I know he will,” she replied. Grian pondered it for a moment. She was right--he could just ask to visit someone. Other hermits did it all the time. Maybe--maybe a few server hops wouldn’t cause a problem. Maybe this was something within his reach, after all this time. The thought exhilarated him.

“But please,” Pearl added. “Please tell someone else, not just me. How long have you been hiding?”

Too long.

Grian didn’t answer, and the two of them stood there and listened to the crash of the waves on the nearby shoreline. The air was hot and salty, and in the distance he could hear Xisuma opening and closing doors in the village.

He didn’t know what he felt, it was like too many emotions had happened in too short of a period of time and left him burned out like a forest after a wildfire. His hands had stopped trembling, but he felt deeply tired.

Happy. You feel happy.

Grian’s communicator chimed from within his pocket. He withdrew it.

GoodTimeWithScar > Grian: are you okay

Grian smiled, and typed a response.

Grian > GoodTimeWithScar: yes

“Who was that?” Pearl asked.

“Scar. He wanted to know if I was okay.”

“Are you?”

Grian met her eyes. “I am now.” It was close enough to the truth. Grian shifted his weight between his feet, suddenly restless and tired from trying to process all this new information. “Speaking of other hermits, we should get going, yeah? We can’t let them get all the resources without us!”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she chuckled. The hermits had already spread out seeking resources, but not too far yet; Grian and Pearl could still see several of them talking to each other across the field.

“Pearl, before you go--” Grian started, looking serious. “Build next to me, alright? I...I want you to be around.”

“I promise,” she replied.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

“Why are you following me?” Grian knew why, but he wanted Mumbo to bring it up. He was torn--on one hand, he truly appreciated his friend’s concern. It was nice that others were looking out for him, a warm reminder of what their little community stood for. On the other hand . . . he’d really have just appreciated being left alone.

“You look like you have a purpose!” Mumbo exclaimed instead.

Huh.

Grian shook his head. “I’m just heading north,” he replied, shielding his eyes and looking up to see the position of the sun.

“I was just like, ‘Man, it looks like he knows where he’s going,’” Mumbo continued and Grian laughed.

They walked to the edge of the swamp, and began to cut down the trees. Starter tools were a necessity in a new world, and they had no stone.

“Ugh, I have to take down this whole tree, and then I have to replant it,” complained Mumbo.

“Wait-why have you got to replant it?” asked Grian incredulously, while getting wood for himself and not replanting the tree.

“Well I-I can’t just deforest things!”

This is going to be SO much fun to tease Mumbo with.

“Whatever you say, tree boy.”

They continued to work, getting wood, and then venturing into a shallow cave to get stone. The whole time their coms kept buzzing, buzzing, buzzing with combat death messages. Just another day in the hermitcraft world, thought Grian. Have they declared a spontaneous war up there? Either way, Pearl and Gem were getting the full introduction today, he thought with a chuckle.

Exiting the cave, they spotted a shipwreck not too far away, and decided to explore it. Grian pulled out a soggy buried treasure map, and they decided to go after it in a boat. Grian wanted to relax in the boat, to just breathe in the sea spray and try to calm his still-racing thoughts, but unfortunately Mumbo was the driver, and he was not a very good driver if you asked Grian. Grian had been tasked with navigation, which was a difficult thing when the driver couldn’t see the map you were describing.

The loot was good, and they divided it between themselves and then struck onward in the boat, this time with Grian commandeering the vessel. They looped back around to the shipwreck only to find a group of hermits that were a little too late to the prize. Pearl, Ren, and Doc were gathered around the boat looking a bit disappointed.

Mumbo and Grian decided to taunt them.

“Who got the loot?” shouted Ren.

“We got the loot!” Grian shouted back.

“Oh it was you guys,” said Pearl. Grian stuck his tongue out at her and cackled.

They looped back around to show off the Heart of the Sea, but Mumbo dropped their only diamond by accident and that was when Grian decided to steer the boat away before they lost any more valuables.

“I can’t believe you dropped the diamond,” Grian sighed.

“I was flexing too hard, I’m sorry!” cried Mumbo.

It was too comical, and Grian couldn’t be mad at his friend. They rowed on, closely following the coastline. After a few minutes, however, Mumbo asked a question.

“The new hermit, who we just saw with Doc and Ren--Pearl--is it. . . is it okay if I ask how you know her?” Mumbo spoke gently, knowing he was treading around a potentially sensitive topic. Grian knew the topic would have come up eventually, after he’d basically had a breakdown in public when he saw her.

Grian stopped the boat, and looked into the water, not at Mumbo’s face. “Yeah, I figured you’d ask. We used to be on a world together. The . . . the world I was at before I came here, actually.” It wasn’t the full truth, since he’d been to many worlds as a Watcher and had lived on the Watchers’ world for a while. But Evo had been his last home.

“Oh,” said Mumbo.

“We were friends,” continued Grian. “We were close. But I was told she was dead. Clearly, though,” he just simply gestured instead of finishing the sentence.

“Clearly she’s not dead,” Mumbo finished. “I see. Who told you she was dead?”

“Someone who didn’t have my best interests at heart.” Grian had never fully told his friend about what had happened before he joined hermitcraft, but the other man knew that it was a difficult past and had comforted him on more than one occasion--mostly after he’d first joined and the pain was still fresh. It had dulled with time and Grian had become more and more adjusted to his new life.

Seeing Pearl again was a miracle, but it sure sharpened the pain.

Grian rested his elbows on the side of the boat and pressed the heels of his palm into his eyes. “It wasn’t just her, either, they told me everyone on the server was dead. And-they’re all alive. All of them. It’s fantastic news, brilliant news, I’m just-”

“Thinking of the people who didn’t have your best interests at heart?”

“Yeah.”

Mumbo laid a hand on Grian’s shoulder. “I don’t know who they are,” he began, “but I know they’re not here now. You have us now, and you have Pearl here too. That all is in the past.”

Grian stared out over the water, watching as the sunlight sparkled and danced over the waves. “You’re a good friend, you know that right?”

“Well, I do try to be,” Mumbo chuckled. “Now-I think we should probably go pick up Scar over there, I think the poor man is going to drown!”

“Oh no!” Grian said, and scrambled for the oars, and then they were off.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

When Grian, Impulse, Scar, and Mumbo created the Boatem Pole, Pearl was there to join them.

When Grian woke up in his makeshift camp the next morning, he was happy to see Pearl setting up her own starter base on the other side of the Boatem Pole.

When Grian showed up at Xisuma’s base two days later, he asked for permission to visit other servers.

[votederpycausemufins]

@petrichormeraki @strawberrylemonz​ are the obvious influences of this chapter since it’s grian backstory!!! I make mention of the Antarctic empire, Yandere Highschool and Evo, but you probably don’t need to have seen them to know what’s going on (tbh i’ve only seen Evo and not smp earth or YHS)

i’ve uploaded the fic onto my ao3 if y’all want to read it there. 

A castle stood in the middle of frozen plains. Though the wind was cold and harsh, inside was warm and cozy. There was the sound of a few people running through the halls, none of them that old.

“Blood for the Blood God!” A young voice yelled as they tackled someone.

“Hey! Get off me!” A similar voice spoke.

“Come on Techno, you’re taller than me!”

“And you have wings! Get your own blood!”

A third voice spoke up as they ran by. “I’m gonna have the last of the juice!”

“No! That’s my blood!” The young avian jumped up from pinning his one brother down and ran after the other. “Wilburrrrrr!”

By the time Techno reached the kitchen, his brothers were fighting in front of the fridge. As they tustled, he opened the fridge up and pulled out some cherry juice and used the last of the bottle to fill his glass. “Sorry Blood God, my juice now.”

The two kids stopped fighting and the avian pouted. “That’s not fair!”

The three of them ended up arguing until someone new entered the kitchen. A man with raven wings and wearing a crown walked in holding a baby in his arms. “Boys…” he spoke in a tone that made the triplets immediately stop what they were doing.

“It’s Techno’s fault! He stole my blood!”

“Only because you were too busy fighting with Wilbur.”

“Only cause he tried to get the blood first.”

“You weren’t fast enough!”

“I’m super fast! I just didn’t want to use my wings and beat you and make you cry!”

“I wouldn’t cry!”

“Everyone says you would!”

The cheery tone from the arguing children seemed to disappear along with the cost warmth as a chill seemed to find its way into the castle. The king carefully passed the baby to Techno and then kneeled down. “Xelqua, are you hearing the voices again?”

“No.” Xelqua said, obviously lying, making the king sigh.

“You know you need to tell daddy when you start to hear them again.”

Xelqua crosses his arms. “Techno doesn’t always tell you when he hears them!”

“And I don’t like him doing that either.” The king sighed. “Will you promise to always tell me if I get you some more juice?”

“Blood for me!” Xelqua said happily, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, blood for the Blood God!” Techno’s replied, handing the baby back to his dad.

They were only separated for a moment. Philza has his children holding onto his wings as they went through the market. He heard Xelqua cheer at seeing a stand of music discs. Before Phil could remind his son to stay with them, the child had let go of his wing. 

The king immediately moved to grabbed Xelqua, only to find him missing. He assumed he was just faster and lost in the crowd, but even going on a path to the music stand, his son was missing. 

He started searching in a wider area, some of the crowd started looking too. Philza started to worry about his son being kidnapped with him being a prince and all. He offered a reward, right there in the crowd for whoever found his son. He hoped it would work, but it didn’t.

Phil kept searching even when Wilbur started to complain he was tired and the baby in his arms started wailing. But his son didn’t reappear.

In a distant world, Xelqua put his foot down on the sidewalk, surprised to see it not cobblestone and also barely anyone in sight. “Daddy?” He looked around for his dad, but he wasn’t there. “D-daddy? D-dad?!” He looked around wildly, but still there was no sign of the king. “Dad! T-Techno! Wilbur!” He shouted for his family. But they weren’t there.

A woman spotted the lost Xelqua and took him to the police. When he described his family and home, the officers were left scratching their heads. They listed him as a found person, but no one ever came. 

After a month he was put in the foster system. Compared to his previous life as a prince, Being an orphan was the worst thing ever. He hated being bullied for everything. His wings, which he eventually learned to hide completely. The way he talked, which caused him to try and hide his accent. And his name. That wasn’t something he could easily change, but when he ran away and started a new life on his own, it was easier. And when Sam and Taurus asked for his name. It was Grian.

Part of Grian was glad when the universe went sideways and he couldn’t find Sam or Taurtis. He had done some things that most people would frown upon. But he had to do them. He needed the ransom money, he needed to help his friends escape, he needed to kill YakuzaKaru. And it hadn’t helped when the voices told him he was right.

But suddenly he was in a world that was much simpler and closer to how home had been. He was free to do whatever he pleased. He ended up moving towards an ocean and making a castle in the middle of it. It wasn’t the Antarctic Empire, but it was his empire. His Grian Empire.

And it was so much better here. If he exploded someone or robbed them or trapped them in a box, he wasn’t in danger of getting hurt or arrested. The worst that happened was the Watchers showing up. They liked using clay and Grian needed clay. So he stole every bit he could. Of course, the Watchers didn’t like that, so he was told to burn it or have his items trapped away or something else.

Grian thought it was unfair. What gave them the right to choose what he was doing was wrong? He didn’t see anyone else get in trouble. And the voices agreed with him, it wasn’t his fault.

And then he was taken away by the Watchers. While he was scared by that, the voices assured him it would be fine. The Watchers had just been testing him. And now they were giving him a chance to join. He would have said no, but then he thought about the family he lost. The Watchers were powerful. If he became one, he could find his family again.

He took the power. He became a Watcher. The voices became clearer and he felt complete. At least until he realized he couldn’t find his family, even with all the power being a Watcher gave him. He could see into a million worlds, but it had been years, and when he looked into the world that housed his home, all he saw was an old empty castle. There was no one left.

Grian ended up shutting away his Watcher side in anger. He finally had the chance to see his family and they were gone. And if those voices hadn’t told him to take the power and look, he wouldn’t have learned the truth. Grian preferred the idea that he could see his family again, or at least imagine the possibility, then know for sure that he was truly alone.

So Grian used his powers as a Watcher to hide the voices and the powers away. If he wanted to, he could pull them back, but why bother. He stayed with the Watchers for a while, gazing into the world he had just left before reaching for his powers just a little to look into other worlds. He then met someone who felt like his match. Everyone knew Redstoners and Builders fit perfectly together. And Grian was a builder while this man created redstone masterpieces. 

Grian watched as the man left into a server called Hermitcraft. He followed along and searched for the admin of the world. The admin seemed surprised to see Grian, but allowed him to join them, though not right away as they were going to be moving worlds soon. Grian agreed to wait, and wait he did. The moment the world was open, Grian took himself there. It was empty for a short bit, but then other people started showing up.

Grian followed the redstoner Mumbo around, glad to have a new friend. He didn’t understand half the things Mumbo talked about when it came to redstone, but it was still fun to listen to. It helped distract him from all that came before.

Once or twice, Grian had to use his powers from being a Watcher, and he had to explain to Xisuma what he was. The Voidwalker seemed to understand if be a little put off by how someone like Grian could actually be a Watcher.

When they moved to another world, Grian followed. It was peaceful for the longest time until Mumbo created Hermit Challenges. Well, it wasn’t right when he created them, but later down the line. He was just asked to wear blue. It shouldn’t have been that hard to do. But he always wore red. Blue wasn’t his color, it was his brother’s color. Grian tried arguing with Mumbo, asking him to allow the challenge to be skipped. He didn’t explain why he didn’t want to do it, so Mumbo said he had to.

Eventually, Grian wore blue. And then the mansion exploded. Everyone rushed to the ruined building and saw Grian in front of it, holding TNT. But Grian didn’t look like himself. He had tried to hide the memories away. It was just going to be for a day, but to hide the memories of his part life, he had to be a Watcher. And being a Watcher brought back his voices. And if he hated blue so much, why have a mansion that was all blue?

It took days for everyone to calm him down and get him back to normal. They panicked when he brought out his powers once more though it was just to repair what he had destroyed. Grian refused to meet Mumbo’s eyes for a while, so he went to his second closest friend Iskall to talk with. Despite Iskall’s insistence that he was not a therapist, he agreed to help Grian talk through what was going on in his mind. 

Between talks, Iskall spoke with Xisuma to relay what he had learned and soon all the Hermits were informed about what was going on with Grian. Of course Grian didn’t give out every detail like his life with Sam and Taurtis and the fact that he was a prince. All he said was he lost his family and ended up in a not so great crowd as a teen.

The next time Grian asked to opt out of something, people quickly obliged, both to not have the newest hermit hurting more, and also to make sure the server wasn’t destroyed by a Watcher going haywire.

It was months after the incident of the mansion exploding that Tommy appeared. No one knew where the kid had appeared from but it was obvious that sending him back couldn’t be an option. Mambo and Grian both took a liking to Tommy, Grian also being the newest Hermit and Mumbo being the youngest. Well, obviously now Tommy was both the youngest and newest, but it was the principle of the matter.

Though he was extremely wary of the pair at first, Tommy quickly warmed up to them, especially Grian. The two of them were so similar, people assumed they were siblings at one point. When someone pointed it out, then immediately regretted it because Grian got upset and started yelling at them. He flew off and Tommy followed behind, not knowing what was going on. 

Grian explained how he lost his family and how by the time he finally got home, they were all gone. Tommy told Grian about his own family, how they had slowly all gone a little crazy at the situation Dream had put them in. Slowly, the two of them bonded, just talking about the situation, joking around. Grian told some stories and Tommy replied with his own.

It was when Tommy pretended to be his oldest brother and said ‘blood for the blood god’ when Grian froze and became pale. Neither of them had used names for their family. At least, Tommy hadn’t used anything other than nicknames. Grian asked if the blood god was Xelqua. Tommy asked how Grian could possibly know that name.

When Grian learned Tommy was his brother, he pulled the teen into a crushing hug. He refused to let go for the longest time, terrified that just like last time, the moment he let go, they would end up in separate worlds. Tommy pretended to complain, but he was fine with Grian hugging him. He understood.

Grian made sure everyone was together when he used his Watcher powers again. Tommy had no clue what was going on and why everyone looked ready for war. The Hermits had promised they didn’t do that here, and it was worse that they all seemed ready to specifically fight Grian. Tommy nearly jumped between then, ready to fight every hermit for his brother, when Grian pulled out his Watcher powers. If Tommy had been scared of Dream, he was suddenly even more scared of his brother. 

The moments seemed to stretch out and the Hermits started moving towards Grian, ready to fight a Watcher, when he pushed it back down. Immediately Hermits were shedding armor and putting their elytra back on, glad that no fighting had to occur. Xisuma pulled Tommy aside to fully explain everything to the boy while Mumbo stayed with Grian as a shoulder to cry on. When Tommy returned, Grian once again held him close, this time seeming more worried about losing his brother. Though not in the sense that Tommy could disappear, but in the sense that Tommy could be like his brothers, losing themselves to madness. Just like Grian had nearly done.

While everyone argued, Grian used his Watcher powers more, gazing into the SMP that Tommy had come from. Though no one liked the methods, they were at least glad to get more insight into what had led Tommy to being the way he was. And because of it they were able to help him heal better.

One thing that became obvious was how the time within the world of Hermitcraft passed faster than in other worlds. It helped explain why it was so odd that Grian and Tommy, who once were only around five years apart were now closer to ten. Because of that, there was little worry of the SMP catching them by surprise and trying to find Tommy. Before the next MCC meeting, Tommy hit a growth spurt which made it harder for his old friends to recognize him even before he put on a slight disguise.

Back in Hermittown, Tommy slowly learned to be like his new family. Instead of stealing or hoping for handouts, he used the knowledge from the other Hermits to make farms and get plenty of resources. He didn’t mind spending hours in a mine as the mix of an efficiency five pickaxe and a haste two beacon made the stone break as if it were simply breaking grass. It was peaceful other than the occasional monster showing up and Grian looked proud of him every time so it always seemed worth it. Especially as he always ended up with plenty of diamonds.

When he first started building, the biggest thing Tommy made was a cobble tower up to the build limit, but after mining so much, filling his inventory with cobble, and having an amazing builder for a brother, Tommy built more. He created what looked like a tall wizard tower, which Grian begrudgingly was happy about, though Tommy saw the way Scar smiled smugly at Grian. For the most part the tower was just cobble, but here and there were stone bricks and mossy cobble, spruce and dark oak wood, and other stones to bring some color.

There were different floors and Tommy nearly gave Iskall a heart attack when the redstoner took a tour of the tower and walked in on the floor entirely made of diorite. One floor was filled with yellows and greens and housed a single bee which everyone was pretty sure somehow held part of Tubbo’s soul. It was messy, but at the top of the tower, Mumbo had helped Tommy create a cycling screen. Tommy made half of it the flag of L’Manburg and the other half the flag of the Antarctic Empire. Every few days he would flip a lever and the flag would change. Though certain parts of his past weren’t the greatest, Tommy was glad to have something to remind him of it, and Grian was glad to see the flag of his old family once again.

The last time Grian peeked into the SMP, he saw Dream getting so close to finding a way to Hermitcraft. He warned Xisuma who carefully told other Hermits to prepare, trying to not scare Tommy. Eventually the teen found out, which was probably for the best so when Dream did show up, he didn’t completely panic. Tommy tried to deny Dream could find a way in, and forgetting the time difference between the two worlds, Tommy slowly thought that he really wouldn’t show up.

But when Tubbo appeared and mentioned Dream would be coming, it became very real. Tommy prepared as did Grian. Grian flew to his brother to give him comfort before the battle started. Grian said he would do anything to make sure they couldn’t take Tommy. Tommy asked Grian to promise him not to use his Watcher powers.

Grian hesitated. He had been using the powers more and more. He’d slowly been getting used to them. Surely it would be fine for an emergency. But Tommy wouldn’t listen to Grian’s reasoning and reluctantly Grian promised not to use those powers.

He broke his promise.

[martuzzio]

To that one anon who sent me a lovely ask about how I would incorporate the MCC twitch games into this au (whose ask I deleted on accident): this is for you.

Iskall has had three main homes throughout his life: The Hermit Craft, the Hunt, and the Arena. All three homes have taught him different lessons to live by. Despite only living with the hermits for a few years out of his three dcades of life, the Hermit Craft has taught him a lot. Some of these things include joys like beds, regular meals, and friends. His friends teach him every day that there is much more to life than doing your job effectively and efficiently. There is more to the universe than subverting people that cannot be trusted.

The Hunt is the home Iskall has known for the longest out of the three. It is whenever he has a new hit, a new target to pursue. The next victim of the machine. This home is what eventually broke him, but it has also taught him a lot. It has taught him to value himself over everyone else in the room when needed. To examine someone from afar and learn everything he needs to know in a few moments. To take aim and shoot without blinking, without feeling. To complete what is asked of him – but only if the price is right.

The final home Iskall knows is the Arena. The Arena taught him one thing: how to survive. He has not been in this home for a long time. Until now.

Iskall sits in a dimly lit room with False, Wels, and Etho and listens to the thunderous roar of the crowd outside. He got a glimpse of the stadium before entering the waiting room and the size took even him by surprise. It’s a big one – the stadium looks like it could comfortably fit at least two million people, but the actual crowd size could be anywhere up to five. Who knows how many individuals the MCC people managed to squeeze into the arena this time. They know the participants are big names, so it makes sense that they would sell as many tickets as possible.

The MCC (which stands for something that Iskall can’t be bothered to remember) is a small and peculiar planet located deep within the anarchy sector of the universe. It is covered completely in metal and hosts far too many illegal activities to count. The most popular of these activities are the fighting competitions held in the hundred or so arenas scattered across the planet’s surface. The largest of these stadiums is where Iskall and his friends are currently waiting to compete.

When Xisuma announced to the crew over dinner that the ship was going to drop by the MCC in a week, Iskall was glad he wasn’t the only visibly confused person. Apparently the end goal is to attend a conference with the MCC leaders to gain more protection when traveling in the anarchy sector. The catch, however, is that in order to have the conference, some of the hermits need to participate in a non-lethal arena competition to hype up the planet’s visitors and bring in money for the leaders. Iskall gladly agreed to participate, eager to see what MCC arena matches are like when they aren’t to the death.

Back in the waiting room, Iskall is startled out of his thoughts by False’s swear when her knife slips from the whetstone. “That’s the third time I’ve almost nicked the blade.” She mutters when she notices Iskall looking over. “I should’ve just brought my plasma blade. It would’ve been less of a hassle.”

“But the real deal is so much better.” Wels interjects from across the room. From his own grip on his sword, Iskall figures that he’s trying hard to not ruin his blade on his own arena-supplied whetstone. “It’s all about the weight of the piece that makes it worthwhile. I can’t imagine fighting someone with a knife that weighs as much as a wooden spoon.”

False huffs a laugh, causing her glowing blue eyes to crinkle in the dusty light. “You’re in no position to form an argument because you’ve never tried any option other than your sword.”

Wels beams and shrugs one shoulder. “What can I say, you got me there.”

“The lighter blades have their own perks.” Etho adds conversationally. He’s perched precariously on top of a barrel in the corner of the room, fingers flying over his left gauntlet’s screen as he most likely plays that Hermit trading card game. “When they’re really light, it’s easier to carry as many as you want under your clothes.”

Iskall squints at his mysterious friend. “That sounds ominous.” Etho simply glances up and winks at him, drawing a grin to Iskall’s face.

“I like them because a lighter blade helps me to focus on the arms working the gun.” False supplies. “When I’m using blades and guns at the same time, having one set of arms as the dominant pair works out better. But that’s just me, though.” she continues and gestures to Wels’ sword. “When you can only fight with one weapon at a time, I feel like the best option to choose is the one you’re most comfortable with.”

Wels beams again at False but soon groans in expression when Etho replies with, “So that just means you need to become comfortable with all weapons.” When Wels stands up and pokes his sword in the direction of the barrel, Etho shrinks back and raises his hands, leaving his game momentarily forgotten. “Hey, hey! I’m right, you know! You’re just mean!”

Iskall doubles over in laughter at that. He’s so glad that these three are the ones that volunteered to participate in the arena competition with him. Not to discount any of his other friends, but the four of them are probably the best fighters on the whole hermit team. Or at least the best possible team of four. False is an absolute beast in battle, both real and practice. Her two sets of arms are a beauty to behold when she’s aiming a gun at one enemy while stabbing another at the same time. Then there’s Wels, who uses traditional techniques to make a statement. His confident movements and unwavering personality comforts Iskall on the battlefield. Lastly, there’s Etho, whose expert skill in thousands of weapons and techniques always results in a good time. His very presence seems to bring chaos. Iskall assumes it’s just because he’s Etho.

False reaches over with one of her unoccupied arms and flicks Iskall’s helmet visor. “Stop laughing so much.” She scolds. “You’re going to get a stomachache before we even start the match.”

Iskall curbs his laughter as Wels and Etho go “awww” in the background. Before Iskall has the chance to shoot a retort back, a clanging noise sounds out form outside the waiting room. He looks over to the door just in time to watch it wrench open with a screech.

“Good news, hermits!” A small android, as metallic as the rest of the planet, shrieks. Their pincer-like hands flutter in a way that makes Iskall think of Mumbo. “You’re up next! Ready your weapons now because the gate’s going to raise in less than a minute!” With that, the android reaches into the room and yanks the door back shut with a loud screech.

After a moment to process what just happened, Iskall claps his hands together and leisurely pushes off the bench. “Time to end that game, Etho.” He says with a falsely pained expression. Etho blinks sadly and shuts his gauntlet screen off with a swipe. He slides off of his barrel and pats around his body to probably double check his thirty or so different weapons hidden in mysterious places.

False sets the whetstone aside and rolls her two sets of arms back in their shoulder sockets. She smiles at the men in the room, throwing her blade into the air and catching it without looking. “Ready, boys?” She asks, wiggling an eyebrow for emphasis.

Wels laughs back and readies his own blade. “As ready as we’ll ever be. Remember, no killing anyone out there, alright?”

Iskall sees the other two nod and realizes that yes, this is an arena event where he cannot kill anyone. It’s a shock that hits him much later than he expected it would. At least it hit him before he was in actual battle, though, so he counts it as a small blessing. “Gotcha.” He says in response, facing the large gate on the arena side of the room and checking the grip on his gun one last time. False notices and checks the grip on her own gun as well.

The four of them are startled when the door slams open again behind them. “Time to fight!” The same android screams in the doorway. They smack one of their pincer hands onto a button on their forearm and the room’s gate starts slowly creaking open. The door slams shut again without another word.

The four hermits meet gazes for a moment, then shrug. They then all face the gate, which by now has thudded into place, fully open. Bright sunlight shines into the room and an unseen announcer thunders out a short intro for the team. The crowd thunders back.

“Let’s go, boys.” False says, and strides out into the area, head held high. Etho and Wels soon follow. As Iskall steps through the door and the crowd’s thunder turns into a roar, he grins, rolls his shoulders back, and raises a hand to greet his old home.

[thelionbyname]

Together We Are One (Prequel part 11, Final)

(Hello everyone :) So sorry for the huge gap between posts, I just moved back to my home country, so there wasn’t a lot of time for me to write. I also knew this was going to be the final part in this story, and I didn’t want it to be over. But I may write another Hermitcraft fanfic soon. Because this is the final, it is quite a bit longer than usual, hope you don’t mind. Enjoy!)

As soon as Grian landed beside him, Mumbo pelted him with questions. “Are you okay? Who was that? What happened to him? I’m sorry I was no help, I couldn’t climb down the tree fast enough…”

“That’s all right Mumbo, I don’t blame you. I’m fine, a few scratches and bruises, but otherwise unharmed,” Grian assured him.

“Who is he, though? You must know him, or at least, he knows you, or he wouldn’t have attacked out of the blue like that.”

Grian shrugged and brushed his fringe out of his eyes. “I don’t know, Mumbo. He looked at me like he knew me, but I’ve never seen him before. If I had, I would remember.”

Mumbo nodded thoughtfully. They decided they should probably tell Xisuma what happened; perhaps he knew more. They found the other hermits still sitting on the side of the road, Tango, Xisuma and Keralis trying to convince False to start singing again.

“False can sing?” Grian asked, surprised. He momentarily forgot what he came to them for.

“Right, yeah! You and Mumbo haven’t heard it! She’s phenomenal!” Tango told him. His crimson eyes sparkled, but then he clenched his fist behind his back and his smile faded. It looked to Xisuma like he was punishing himself for something. He pushed the thought aside for now.

“Yeah, Falsie sang in Argentina, and she really is incredible.” X agreed.

“I need to hear this!” Mumbo said excitedly.

“You know what, guys? When this is all over, I’ll sing for everyone and get us into the new year.” False decided.

Everyone smiled triumphantly. They continued to chat about other things, until Grian remembered what he came to tell them.

“Wait, guys. There was something I was trying to tell you before, but I forgot. A man attacked me when Mumbo and I were over yonder. I don’t know him, but we figured he must know us to have any reason to attack me. I was wondering if you guys knew anything about that.” Grian said to all of them, but facing Xisuma. He figured that if anyone knew, Xisuma would. He knew everything regarding the hermits.

“What did this man look like, Grian?” Xisuma asked him.

“Um… quite a handsome man, olive skin, but bloodshot eyes. He had a long scar along his right cheek.” Everyone except Mumbo gasped at his description. “What?” Grian asked, confused. He glanced at Mumbo, who shrugged, feeling just as out of the loop as Grian.

Xisuma was the one who responded. “Remember that night in the other world, when Tango and Keralis were held hostage, Tango died, and you two had to capture a bunch of people?”

Mumbo and Grian nodded, starting to understand.

“The man that attacked us back then matched that exact description. Malus.”

They recognised the name from the recount the others had given them after the fight. Their eyes widened in surprise.

“I assume your fight led to him being thrown into the black hole? It would explain how he got in that world.” Xisuma guessed correctly.

Grian nodded.

“No point dwelling on it, there’s nothing we can do about it, and we shouldn’t mess with the past anyway.” Keralis said, looking at Grian, knowing the latter would beat himself up over bringing the dangerous man to the other world for many nights to come if wasn’t reassured. Keralis knew Grian would blame himself for Tango’s temporary death, once he connected the dots.

Grian smiled at Keralis gratefully, aware of what he was doing. Keralis smiled back.

At that moment, light returned to the road up ahead; the black hole had closed.

Everyone hurried back to the taxis, this time not fussing over who sat where, so Tango ended up next to False, with Xisuma in the passenger’s seat.

Xisuma motioned for the driver to continue, and looked via the rearview mirror at the two in the back. Tango was sitting very stiffly, arms on his lap, like he really didn’t want to come in contact with anything.

...Or anyone…

Before Xisuma could dwell on that realisation, Tango noticed him watching, and looked in his eyes through the mirror. Tango blushed slightly from the embarrassment of being watched, and looked away. Nobody talked for the rest of the trip.

At some point during the drive, Tango sensed the other hermit’s minds. He could only really feel their aura, not their thoughts, but if Cleo was paying attention, she would feel them nearby too. Though to be fair, they were probably still recovering from the black hole and watching the six of them get sucked through, so it was unlikely that she was paying attention.

Then, suddenly, Tango felt an overwhelming wave of emotion. Pain, sadness, loss. This grief came from someone else’s mind, and he immediately recognised the aura. It was Impulse.

“Stop! Stop the car!” Tango shouted. He needed to get to Impulse, now.

The startled taxi driver hit the brakes, and Tango jumped out. He couldn’t bear the pain that wasn’t even his own, it was too much to know what his best friend was going through.

He sprinted in the direction of all the presences, but there was still a long way to go. The reach on his telepathy was quite far, so he felt the hermits far before he was anywhere near them. Then Xisuma was next to him. Without a word, he super-speed-ran all the way to the Hermits, taking Tango with him.

They stopped behind a few trees that hadn’t been torn from the earth, a few meters from the hermits, and Xisuma let go of Tango. Tango immediately ran through the group gathered around a single person, curled up in a ball of dread, arms wrapped around his legs, trying to protect himself from pain that came only from within.

“Impulse!” Tango screamed as he pushed his way through the mass of people.

Impulse, the one on the ground, just shook his head and whimpered, rocking back and forth. He mumbled to himself, “That’s not Tango, he’s gone, he’s never coming back.” And he let out a scream.

But then comforting arms wrapped around him, and the same voice that had called his name whispered, “Impulse, it’s all right, it’s me, I’m okay.”

Something in Impulse’s heart mended, a hole sealed. Even though it went against everything he just saw, Impulse wanted to believe him. And he did.

There’s some strange connection that forms in friendships such as these, and when your best friend is nearby, you just know, even when every logical part of your brain says it’s not possible.

Impulse carefully raised his head, and looked directly into his favorite pair of blood-red eyes. And as the final cracks in his heart and soul mended, miraculously, Impulse smiled.

“Tango! You’re alive!” he yelled, and despite himself, giggled with relief. “Wh- how? I saw you die!”

“You didn’t see me die, you saw me vanish into the black hole,” Tango corrected him. “It wasn’t deadly. Long story short, it led to another world, we traveled back in time, and now we’re home!”

“We? Where are the others? Did they make it?” A new expression of worry clouded his chocolate eyes.

“Yes, they-” before Tango could finish his sentence, someone else jumped playfully on top of both of them, knocking both of them over, and embracing them.

“Zed!” Tango laughed, and hugged him back. Then he smiled again, to himself. I’m back with my family.

All the hermits gathered around them just stood, some confused, most just watching the trio’s heartwarming happiness. Xisuma had not yet emerged from the trees, trying to get everything together and prepare to see all the people he was closest to in the world, after all those years. He didn’t quite dare to believe it, and once he’d laid eyes on them all, he stood frozen. Xisuma had always been the sensible and logically thinking one in the group, their leader of sorts. But now he was just afraid of it all being a dream, and he was terrified of getting his hopes up.

He stood there, numb but scared, between the trees, and watched team ZIT wrestle and roll around playfully. But then Cleo, having sensed him telepathically, and noticing his hesitation, came towards him.

“Xisuma, it’s okay. It’s really us. I know how you feel,”-she gestured at her head- “obviously, but you don’t have to worry that it’s all a dream”. Xisuma didn’t move. “You’re making me do this,” she said, and in one movement, twisted his arm behind his back and forced him to the ground.

“Ow! What was that for?” Xisuma demanded, coming to his senses.

“Could you have dreamt that?” Cleo asked, releasing him.

“I suppose not…”

“Good. Come join us. Where are Grian and the rest? The ones who went with you?”

“They took the taxi. They should be here soon.”

“Taxi? From where- you know what, tell everyone the whole story later. I’m just glad you’re all alive”.

“Me too.”

They joined the people still huddled around the now again-hugging team ZIT, and once people saw Xisuma, he was embraced by at least ten different hermits.

Just then, two taxis appeared at the end of the street, and Grian and Mumbo tumbled right out. They jumped to their feet as False and Keralis stepped out a bit more gracefully, but all four of them sprinted over to their friends. Everybody was hugging everybody.

“Bubbles!!” Keralis yelled, peering over the many heads in search of the little fella. And he was tackled to the ground and embraced tightly by bdubs.”Bubbles!” Keralis said again, happily.

But then Grian caught sight of team ZIT, still lying on the ground in the middle of the crowd. “Group hug!!” he shouted, and flopped on top of them, Mumbo right behind him.

Impulse grinned. “Hey G! Welcome back!”

Then another body added itself to the pile of happiness. Scar threw his arms around Grian and giggled in a way only he could. Then Iskall threw himself on top of Mumbo. After that, the rest followed, one by one, until all twentyfour of them were one big pile of pure euphoria. Even Jellie perched on top. 

They could have remained like that for hours, just soaking up each other’s warmth and friendship, but eventually Zedaph said, “Um, I know we’re all very happy, but perhaps Impulse and Tango would like to breathe. I wouldn’t mind some fresh air either, actually.”

Everyone laughed and started gently trying to disentangle themselves from the heap of limbs. Before they could all disengage, however, two more young women showed up and just stood watching them, confusion on their faces, but also an expression that said, ‘yeah, seems about right’.

“Uh… Hi! I thought this was a New Year’s party?” one of them asked in her Australian accent.

At this, someone deep within the pile somehow jumped up, throwing all the hermits off him. Grian attempted to flatten his now messy hair with one hand, while he waved at the girls with the other. “Pearl! Right! I forgot I invited you… years ago.”

“Ehm… I’ll ask later. Is it still okay that we’re here? Oh yeah, I hope you don’t mind, I brought a plus one. This is Gem.” Said Pearl, gesturing at the woman beside her.

In a voice a hundred times sweeter than candyfloss, Gem said, “Nice to meet you all. You must be Grian, judging by the chaos around you.” This was met with welcoming laughter from all around.

Pearl and Gem helped everyone out of the mess of bodies, and then everyone- some skipping, some running, some just walking- went back to the ballroom where, a few hours or a few years ago, depending on who you asked, everyone was dancing, not a care in the world. Grian flew through the open doors and looked around at the place he had always continued to call home, with every day that had passed in the other timeline.

As he flew around, Mumbo and Iskall jumped up to reach him and each grabbed hold of one of his legs, pulling him down. “Come back down to earth, Grian!” Mumbo joked.

“Yeah, get your head out of the clouds,” Iskall added, laughing his contagious Swedish laugh.

Grian allowed his friends to pull him down, and hugged them again. “I love you guys.”

A few minutes later, it was as if no time had passed. Everyone stood around the room in little groups, chatting, while the big clock on one wall ticked off the minutes until the new millennium began.

Team ZIT stood around the same high table as they had before everything happened. They were talking about all sorts of things, but not the one thing everyone was wondering about. They had decided that was a story best told when everyone was together and listening, so all six time travelers could talk about it together.

“Oh, by the way, did you know False speaks Spanish?” Tango asked his two best friends.

“What? No way!” Impulse said in disbelief.

“Of course she does. That sounds like something she’d secretly know.” Zed grinned.

Their conversation was interrupted when False came over to their table.

“Hey Tango, wanna dance like we did in Argentina?” she asked with a smile, not knowing how pained that made him feel. 

But he didn’t want to disappoint her, so he said, “Can you give me a few minutes?”

She nodded and slipped back into the sea of people.

“Tango, are you okay?” Zedaph asked, watching the way his friend stared after her.

Impulse saw it too, and had also noticed the flicker of hurt in Tango’s crimson eyes when she asked him to dance.

“I don’t know what happened in Argentina, or how in the world you even got to Argentina, but something changed, Tango, and it’s hurting you. We don’t want to see you hurt.” Zedaph told him.

Tango tore his gaze away from where False had disappeared between the mass of bodies, and turned back to face him. “I- I think I’m in love with her, guys. But I don’t want to be, I don’t want to ruin our friendship, or make things awkward with the rest of the hermits.” Tango confessed.

Impulse nodded, he’d suspected something like that. Zedaph looked surprised but understanding, and asked, “Have you talked to her? Maybe if you just told her how you feel, you can get it off your chest. It might be awkward for a bit, but you’re both mature...ish, your friendship will survive.”

“I think Zed is right. Maybe you should just confess.” Impulse concurred.

Tango sighed. “I guess it’s worth a shot. I don’t want to live like this.” And with that, he trudged to the dancefloor, where False was waiting for him. But when he put his hand on her waist, his mental connection with her seemed to become more focused, and narrowed down from his general view of all hermits’ thoughts, to only her’s. He felt her every emotion with every fibre of his being, and while that may seem romantic, it had the opposite effect. He felt everything she felt towards him, which was pure friendship and platonic love. And as he felt that, all his romantic notions seemed to melt away. He valued their friendship more than anything, and didn’t believe in lost causes anyway. He knew how she felt, and now he felt that way too. And he was grateful for it.

They tango’d into the final five minutes before the clock struck twelve, and Tango happily led. They were already warm from the wild movements when Xisuma approached them. “Two things. One, Falsie, were you going to sing us into the New Year?” he asked.

Tango and False stopped dancing to face him. “Yes, I’ll head to the stage.” False confirmed.

“Hold on. The second thing was that I was just talking to Stress, who was watching you dance, along with the rest of the hermits, I might add, and she mentioned the year the tango was invented.” He paused, looking at them meaningfully. “1880.”

False and Tango glanced at each other. “That was the year we went to in the time machine.” Tango said, realising. “Do you think we-?”

“I think we did!” False said, laughing.

Xisuma smiled. “Now you can sing, Falsie.”

And sing she did. Even more beautifully than in Argentina, over a century ago. She sang them all the way into the New Year, and everything was as it should be. As Xisuma watched Tango watching False, he saw no sign of his strange behaviour from earlier. He smiled to himself. Whatever had been going on with Tango, he was alright now. And the two of them, along with the rest of their family, shouted, “Happy New Year!”

                                             THE END

[queen-of-deans-booty]

The Curious Case of Dean Winchester: Part One

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,005

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

“He’s out isn’t he?” Amara asked as she observed the city below.

As soon as you closed your eyes, you were on top of a hill, sitting on Baby’s hood, and watching the city life pass you by. Amara appeared next to you, but that wasn’t surprising. Dreaming about her wasn’t that surprising. What was surprising was the memories you got from 2014 of Dean telling you how evil Amara actually was.

“What?” you asked absentmindedly.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“What am I thinking?”

“I’m not as bad as you might think. What Zachariah showed you wasn’t the real me. He wanted to scare you into saying no—into Dean saying yes to my nephew.”

“You’re evil. I saw the look on my own damn face as you held my throat tightly. I saw the fear in people’s eyes when they realized I was in their camp. You’re not good. You inflict fear and pain. You’re nothing better than the things I hunt. Get the hell out of my head.”

“You’re wrong. That’s what they wanted you to see. I’m not bad, and deep down, you know it. I can’t do this without you, and you can’t do this without me.”

“Do what? I’ve been on my own for my whole life without knowing you even existed. So, what, Amara, do I need you for that I can’t provide for myself?”

“Protection. Notice how your magic protects you against things? The Croatoan virus? One of the Horsemen’s powers? I take that protection away and you’re just like them, but I won’t. Lucifer is out of his cage, I can feel it. Don’t let him find you because if he does he will sense that I am within you and he will kill you. I can’t protect you from that from where I am. Don’t let that happen.”

Your head throbbed from the latest dream you had about Amara. It seems as of late you haven’t been getting them so it came as a shock to you that you got one last night. Maybe she wanted to remind you that she was still there and that she wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe she wanted to control the way you thought and acted just by the mere thought of her. Whatever it is, your head was throbbing because of it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you whispered to your boyfriend as you entered the hospital where a potential case might be.

Your father tipped you off of people disappearing from this town and when they turned up dead, their deaths were anything but natural. As soon as you met up with the doctor, you took out a badge that claimed you were with the CDC, something the hospital takes very seriously.

“You expect me to believe you're CDC?” the doctor scoffed.

“Excuse me?”

“It's just that you're a day early. First time in history I haven't sat on my ass waiting for you people.”

“New administration. A change you can believe in,” Dean chuckled humorlessly.

“Right,” the doctor scoffed as she led you three to the morgue to show you the body.

She pulled the corpse of a man named Mr. Xavier who looked to be about eighty years of age.

“Meet Xavier. Date of birth, April third, nineteen eighty-four,” the doctor read from the chart. Frowning, you looked at the brothers before making eye contact with the doctor. She sensed your confusion and discomfort because all she did was nod. “I know. I ran the DNA twice. That's definitely him.”

“Well, he wasn't big on the sunscreen, huh?” Dean joked.

“What’s your theory?” you asked.

“All I know is that the decedent's male, twenty-five years old, and he died of old age,” she said before walking away.

“How the hell is he twenty-five, and he looks like this?” you wondered as you pulled out your cell phone and dialed a number you knew by heart.

“Who are you calling?” Sam asked.

“My dad,” you answered as you left the morgue.

Sam and Dean finished up before following you out of the place.

“You were right about this one. It's definitely a job,” you said as soon as he answered the phone.

“Thought so. Any other stiffs in town?”

“Just the one body.”

“Anything else?” he urged. He seemed anxious, but you didn’t press the issue.

“Couple missing persons, but usual for a town this size.”

“Well, check 'em out.”

“You think they’re connected?”

“Call it a hunch,” he sighed.

“Okay. How are you doing, by the way?”

“Doing?”

“Yeah, you know… how are you?” you chuckled nervously.

“Oh, you mean my legs. Well, I'm just weepin' in my Haagen-Dazs. Idjit,” your father scoffed before hanging up the phone. Shaking your head, you looked at the brothers with a shake of your head.

“Come on, there are other families we need to check out,” you sighed before getting into the car.

A woman named Mrs. Whitlow recently reported her husband missing. Dean sat on her ottoman, looking at a frame photo of her husband, Cliff. Sam sat in an armchair and Mrs. Whitlow sat on her sofa. Everyone was seated except for you who stood by the door and watched the woman’s behavior from a distance.

“That’s the most recent picture,” she said with a sigh.

Dean handed the photo of Cliff to Sam who studied it. The picture was of Cliff as a gold tournament champion, Miami Palms June 2009, holding a golf club and trophy. A USMC tattoo is visible on his right arm.

“How long has he been missing?” Sam asked.

“Oh, I knew right away when he didn't come home Tuesday night.”

“Is there someplace he likes to go after work, maybe? A favorite bar?”

“No. Tuesdays, he always works a bit late, but he always comes straight home.”

“May I use your restroom, ma’am?” you suddenly asked.

“Sure, down the hall and to your right,” she smiled.

Nodding at the brothers, you took off before heading left into the office that was right across from the bathroom. The brothers would keep her busy as you looked through the husband’s things to give you a clue as to where he was or is if he’s still alive. There is a big pile of papers on the desk, and after shuffling through them, you come to find no dirt on the missing man. Looking to the right, you spotted the man’s coat hanging on the hook by the door, and you searched through the pockets to see if there was anything valuable inside. There was a receipt in one of the pockets to a Madame Liu's Golden Palace and totals over $250.

“Working late my ass,” you muttered before shoving the receipt into your pocket.

Exiting the room, you made eye contact with the brothers before nodding to let them know that you had found something and you could leave.

“Thank you for your time, ma’am. We’ll do everything we can to locate your husband,” Dean smiled as he and his brother got up.

The woman escorted you three out of her home, and you explained to the brothers what you found.

“The motel isn’t far from here,” Dean declared as he raced over there to catch the guy red handed—if he was alive.

“Well, at least he's consistent. Same room every Tuesday, hourly rates,” Sam observed as he walked with you and Dean to room 44 which is the room that Cliff rented out every Tuesday.

“Hope I got that kind of kick when I'm his age,” Dean chuckled.

“Yeah, like any of us will live that long,” Sam scoffed.

“What do you think is in there?” you asked as you stopped outside of it.

“A wrinkly, gooey corpse,” Dean shrugged as Sam took out his lock pick kit to open the door. He barely got the second tool out when a man’s voice shouted from within the room.

“Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh! Oh, God!”

“Move!” you yelled as you blasted the door with your magic.

The door slammed opened, but what was inside wasn’t a crinkly old man but a young one with not one but two women in his bed. The shouts weren’t of pain but pleasure. The women jumped out of the bed and raced to the bathroom to get changed into something more decent than what they were wearing.

“Oh,” you gasped.

“Sorry. Uh, got the wrong room,” Dean chuckled nervously.

“Close the door!” the man shouted.

Sam is about to shut the door when he noticed a tattoo on the man’s arm that looked exactly like Cliff’s.

“Nice tattoo,” Sam noted as he walked over to the counter with the man’s clothes on it. “Happen to know anybody named Cliff Whitlow?”

“Never heard of him,” he stranger gulped.

“Well, that's weird,” Sam pulled out an ID from the wallet in the man’s pants, “’Cause you're carrying his wallet.”

Dean crossed the room and lifted up the man’s covers to look what was underneath, and you assumed that Cliff’s wife told the brothers something that would cause Dean to look underneath the covers.

“Huh,” he dropped the sheets once he found what he was looking for. “Your wife told us about your, uh, birthmark there. That's nice. Well, you look great, Cliff. Did you get some work done?”

“Could you give us some privacy?” Cliff asked the two women who hovered by the bathroom.

Handing a robe to Cliff, he put it on before leaving the bed. He met the women by the door and handed them some money. Once they left and the door was closed, he turned to you three with a worried expression.

“Please don't tell my wife. I'm begging you. As far as she knows, I'm dead. For the love of God, let's keep it that way.”

“How can you possibly be Cliff Whitlow?” you asked.

“I can't tell you.”

“You better start talking or we will,” you glared.

“Okay! Okay! It was a game.”

“Like... XBox?” Sam asked.

“What's XBox? No. Poker. High stakes. Instead of cash, you play for years.”

“What does that mean?”

“Look, I know it sounds crazy. Guy comes up to me at a bar and invites me to play. He gives me twenty-five of these weirdo poker chips, right? Chants some mumbo jumbo over them and says now they're twenty-five years. I'm laughing, but then I come out up. Now look at me.”

“What was he chanting?” Sam asked.

“How should I know? All I know is, my bad hip's good, and I threw away my glasses. One of those ladies was here for free! Man's some kind of miracle worker.”

“What does this miracle worker look like?”

“Just a guy. Maybe thirty-five, brown hair. Irish accent. His name was Patrick.”

“Okay, where is this game at?” you asked.

“He said he likes to keep moving. Never stays in one bar long, and he finds you.”

“Great, thanks,” you sighed before leaving the room. The brothers followed you to the street where you dialed your dad quickly. As soon as he answered, you laid down the line about what exactly was going on in this town. “It sounds crazy, right?”

“No, there's lore on it,” your father spoke. “Goes back centuries. Traveling card player pops into town. You beat him, you get your best years back. 'Course, most folks lose.”

“Well, that would explain the crunchy corpse.”

“Supposedly, this player's a hell of a card shark. Got a lot of years in the bank. You find the bar he's working in yet?”

“There's a lot of dives in this town. We're gonna have to split up.”

“Well, why you still talking to me?” he asked before hanging up.

“Man, my dad is cranky,” you shrugged. “Alright, Dean and I will take half and you will take the other. Work fast and work hard.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean nodded.

Usually you were a bit more laid back than usual, but Amara is really messing with your head today.

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[reading-hub]

Imagine: Slow dancing with Steve Rogers

- - - - - - - -

Dancing with the star spangled man was something every woman back in the 1940s and even now was a fantasy to have. Including mine, a little, ok maybe a lot...

But, who can blame me? Steve is the manliness of men. A super soldier that was idolized by many, and rumored to have knocked out Hitler over 200 times, which is also a plus.

Finally, with my years of hard dedication in robotics, I've now gotten the golden opportunity to work close with the very core of the Avengers!

And by very close, I mean I've gotten closer with said star spangled man over the past months by working with the Avengers. Sure, I'm not exactly apart of the battlefield, but with Stark's help, I've been able to built weapons and robots that I couldn't even imagine...

Although I've gotten to work with them for the past five months or so, it was very rare to come across the rest of the Avengers. I always believed that all of the Avengers lived together in one giant building, but reality check, not the case.

All the others were most likely busy with other worlds, cities that they lived in, or missions.

The Avengers I work with most of the time are Tony and Bruce. Sure, I know Steve pretty well, but we just small talk until Fury or someone else of high authority calls him up, ending our conversation unsurprisingly.

But when the three are busy with other things, I'm pretty much alone most of the time.

Not that I mind most of the time. Silence is something I can get by when I'm working by myself. But when Tony and Bruce banter back in forth with each other about science jumbo, I forget that I was ever alone in the first place...it felt nice for once.

My thoughts were completely blank when I heard my name called as I was still working. I looked up from my holographic working station seeing the star spangled man, a cheeky but swooning smile to greet me. Let's just say, it's working on me perfectly.

"Back from knocking out Hitler?" I playfully remarked to the captain. His cheeky smile dropped a little, not-but-also-expecting that from me. He laughed in boredom at my joke "Very funny, definitely did not see that one coming from you, Miss [F/n] & the Hologram." I took back for a minute there...

"Did--Did you just make an 80's reference?" I asked confused but also amused. Steve was also confused at the remark he said. "No, wasn't me. I overheard Stark say it." Steve cleared up.

"So you don't know what Jem & the Hologram is?"

"The what?"

"Nevermind, what are you doing back here so late?" I changed the subject, back into the real original question I wanted ask. "I could be asking you the same thing." He retorted with wit in his voice.

"I have some unfinish blue prints that I wanna finish this week." I admitted, a little guilty of myself. "Ah, Science mumbo-jumbo that I could never understand." He sighed in defeat. "The only 'sciencey mumbo-jumbo' I said was blue prints!" I laughed. "And that's not really scientific either, there just basic structures I have to draw out before building anything." I explained.

"Uh-huh, science mumbo-jumbo." Was all he said right after. It was almost if he didn't listen. "Anyways," He paused. "Since its just the two us in the tower, how bout I invite you somewhere?" He purposed. Alone together? Invite? Somewhere? This is something I would hear from a dream.

"Ok, sure. Just let it be quick so that I can finish up back here." I agreed loosely. After my words, Steve pulled me close and walked me around the hallways. Until we stopped at the training room. As I had a confused look on my face, puzzling what's happening next, Steve let go of my arm to unlock the door.

"Steve, you know how I feel working out in front people..." My confusion was replaced with worry, imagining the super solider watching me as I do pathetic push-ups and small weight lifts.

He chuckled. "We're not here to work out." He said simply as he opened the door quietly. I was back to being confused again. What on Earth is he playing at then?

Once the door was open, there was no training equipment in sight! It was almost as if someone moved it. I shrugged and thought that maybe the janitor moved it out of the way to clean the flooring.

The only thing I saw was a record player, a very old one that Steve could possibly recognized, no offense to him. It was placed in the middle of the room on top of a small table to stand up nicely on.

I went up to it, gazed at it as if it were something ancient, which it technically is. My fingers grazing the box from the outside.

"What do you think?" I turned to Steve who lightly smiled at me. "It's nice, never seen one up close before." I gazed more at it again.

"I wasn't talking about the record player." He said simply with a smirk. "Oh, then what is it then?" I asked nervously. He came close to me, and placed the needle on the disc. "This."

After that played Frank Sinatra - I Fall In Love Too Easily. I was taken aback until I felt Steve's hand hold onto mine delicately. "[F/n], today marks the day I first talked to you."

"Whoa, you keep track of that type of stuff..?" I blurted out. He chuckled at what I said.

"Yes, It was when I went to talk to Stark at his lab and asked him nicely  to not be so reckless. Then I saw you, with Bruce talking about science things. Stark caught me staring at you for a second and introduce me to you." I blushed at how detailed Steve was describing it. Suddenly, I felt his hands move from my own. Placed one hand on my lower back, and the other on my hand. Swaying me right and left.

His icey blue eyes looking at me with such empathy that I couldn't help but not turn away. I was so focused on both his words and loving face, that I didn't noticed our bodies were close together, our feet moving us around the room.

He continued. "You were looking at me with such admiration and shyness that I couldn't help but want to be around more at that moment. And so, I made it my own mission to always be around you whenever I had the chance. Talking and being with you made me feel like I was this young Brooklyn kid again. No one else made me feel that way like you did and I didn't know why."

I've never felt so special in my life. It was just so much to take in. THE Steve Rogers telling me about how he loves hanging out with me! Ok, now I don't wanna let him finish talking.

"Then, I remember being on a mission. The only thing that kept me going in completing that mission, was knowing that you were in the tower still hard working as always and finally talking to you again soon."

He thinks of me when on a mission? That must be alot thinking then, and flattering too, for me.

"Then I noticed, I never think of anyone other then the objective when on a mission. Only if I really, really care about that person or something. So there was only one explanation for that."

Our small dancing stopped, his hands released me and both reached on each side of my face delicately. His forehead touching against mine so tenderly.

"I am in deeply in love with you." He whispered softy.

My eyes widen in shock, whole body paralyzed at those words that I thought I would never hear, only in my thoughts and dreams!

"What do you say, [F/n]?"

One of my hands shaking, reaching for his to grasp onto. Faintly smiling at him. "So is that a yes then?" I nodded, a million times if I could!

Before I could think, Steve held my head close to his chest. As a response, my hands reached onto him for support.

"Still wanna finish up those blue prints?"

"No, I'm good here."

Best night ever.

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Bond Between People & Pokemon The Finale

Upon arriving at the battlefield Ganon had ordered all his forces to attack Kirby at once no matter what the cost.

Ganondorf: You must kill Kirby!

Villains: Alright!

All the villains ran past the heroes, each just standing awaiting the carnage that would soon arrive.

Samus, waving: Good luck, idiots!

Ganondorf: It is he who will need luck for he can’t possibly take on millions of soldiers at on-

Dark Link, flew by through the air. Landing on top of him followed Nightmare.

Dark Link: Ouch! Get off me! (Pushes Nightmare away) Why are we even trying!? (Running away) See ya once this has all cooled down boss!

Ganondorf: What!? Get back here and fight cowards!

Sephiroth: Worry not Ganondorf, you shall be rid of this pest, as I don’t plan on being bested by a marshmallow. Unlike these worthless soldiers.

Chara: Yeah Uncle Sephiroth will show him what’s what.

Bonny, Dedede & Incineroar had just arrived to where the battle was taking place - an injured Incineroar atop Dedede’s back.

Doomguy: Is that? Bonny!? My sweet bonbon has come back and not a scratch on her.

Bonny Janet: But Incineroar…Not so much.

Doomguy: Oh no…Don’t worry good ol’ three fingers (Points at Mewtwo) will take him back to the mansion to Dr. Mario. We’’ll see what he can do. But in the meantime-

King Dedede: Kick their asses Kirby!

Sephiroth: Can it traitor! Your little “hero” dies here! No more shall you pests interfere with our plans!

Bonny Janet: Go ta hell! Yer half pint, wee willy, prissy haired sissy!

Sephiroth self-consciously ran his fingers through his hair, then thrust his sword towards Kirby. Kirby turned and stared Sephiroth dead in his eyes, before grabbing the sword an inch away from his face. He smiled at Sephiroth then threw him through the crowd of villains so fast he set on fire, crashing through a few boulders on the way.

Sephiroth: Argh! *cough cough* How…Is that possible. (Faints)

King Dedede: It’s called being god and tons of friendship b-

Meta Knight: BITCH!

King Dedede: …How dare you steal that from me…

The villains stood in silence for a while.

Random Enemy: … … …RETREAT!

Ganondorf: WHAT!? NO! GET BACK HERE AND FIGHT!

Hades: Sorry bro, but we gotta get outta here. We can save your Ultimate Weapons or whatever for another time.

Ganondorf: You! You’re… … …No. No! NO! YOU’RE WRONG! I CAN BEAT HIM! YOU WORTHLESS PAWNS ARE JUST TOO WEAK! Sometimes you’ve just gotta do things yourself…

Ganondorf now fueled with hatred and malice transformed into his Demon King form, and stared Kirby down with his emerald, green eyes. Kirby in respondents stared back not flinching at all. Commence JoJo music.

Ganondorf: Let’s see you best the hands of a god!

Heroes & Villains: … … …Does he think being a God can save him?

King Dedede: That’s funny Ganon, we’d love to see you deal with Dark Matter every single day!

Ganon began charging towards Kirby with malicous intent.

Kirby, stepping forward: Poyo. (“Aw shit, here we go again”).

Kirby & Ganon collided in the air, sparks literally flying. Kirby then moved to Ganon’s stomach and started pelting a load of punches at him, pushing him back a little.

Ganondorf: COME ON! I KNOW THAT’S NOT ALL YOU HAVE TO OFFER!

Ganondorf then grabbed Kirby and dragged him around violently through the air, before hitting him away with his sword. Kirby recovering quickly then rushed over to Ganon pulled on his tounge and then slammed his own teeth on it cutting it off. Making Ganon completely speechless.

Samus & Link, leaning back: Damn!

Doomguy: Now I’ve done alot of gruesome things in my day…But that!…That was nasty.

A now immobilized Ganon fell to the floor to recollect himself. Kirby, however, had other plans. He made his way to Ganon’s tail. He picked him up by it and then began to swing him round in circles. (Keep in mind he’s 8 inches tall, and Ganon is now 23 inches tall.) He spun so fast it almost seemed like he wasn’t moving. After Kirby eventually released his grip Ganon was sent flying out of sight.

Hades: HOLY ZEUS!

He then came flying back from around the entire world and crashed hard. Pretty much causing a tremor. He then turned back to his original form.

Ridley, watching from afar: Ooh. You hate to see that happen.

Bonny Janet: Tha’s right! None o’ ya got shit, compared ta Kirby!

Chara: Dad!

Hades: Crap, Crap, Crap!

Sephiroth, crawling to Ganon: I’m sorry Ganondorf…For I have failed. I was not strong enough.

Ganondorf: … … …

Sephiroth: We must retreat…For now but we will be back. Once we have replenished ourselves.

Ganondorf: *Nods*

Ridley, flying down with a still unconscious K.Rool: That’s our que to return I guess…God your heavy.

Hades creates a portal to somewhere. And all the villains step through it.

Dark Link: See ya later losers!

Samus: Hmf…Funny…Last I checked we won. But now in related news…WE WON!

Heroes: Heck yeah!

Doomguy: And I bagged us a few goodies to.

Samus: What?

Doomguy: A plant! (Holds up Pirahna Plant)

Link: That’s kinda less bewildering.

Doomguy: Oh and a dinosaur!

Link: A wha-

Riptor, who was held in Doomguy’s shackles, attempted to lunge at Link, causing him to piss his pants scared, Samus came over to comfort him.

Link: Dinosaur’s are just big chickens… …I hate chickens.

Samus: Yeah, it’s alright sweetie, you made it (Kisses him). Alright, listen up heroes. We did well out there today. Thanks to Sakurai & Kirby we were able to rescue Bonny, Incineroar & Dedede. But they always will attempt to fight us again so we must always be aware. DK I’m looking at you. Now come on let’s head back.

After the battle everyone headed back to the mansion Dedede was welcomed back and the second he got there, gave Rosalina & Lucas a hug, but then got to get something to eat he was being starved for days. Joker got to take care of the new obtained Pirahna Plant. He seemed to be doing a pretty good job, the plant didn’t exactly do much harm. Just a lot of smiling. Doomguy began training his new stolen pet Riptor. Though at times it was pretty…Difficult. When Chara found out her pet was stolen she was definitely not very happy. And now to Bonny Janet & Incineroar. He still lay in Dr. Mario’s infirmary recovering from his injuries. At a moment like this her past self would have attempted to catch him. But now she understands that to gain a pokémon as a partner you need to have strong bonds. So now she steps into the infirmary.

Bonny Janet: Hey, Incin. Still in tha’ coma o’ yours. They all know about wha’ yer did ta save me…Even if aye was human. They all understood tha’ yer actions were derived from the selfish desires o’ hatred for the ones tha’, yer know…But yer know wha’? (Puts her hand on his paw) Aye’ve learned something from this experience. No matter pokémon or trainer…Yer should never take one another for granted…All the pain & suffering you went through was to protect me. Even if yer still hated me…Yer still cared….I’m such a coward…I can’t even say this to you properly… … …Well…See ya.

Bonny gets up to leave only to be stopped by something that was pulling her back from her hand. Her eyes lit up, at what she saw. Incineroar was opening his eyes.

Bonny Janet: In…Incineroar?

Incineroar: Huh?…Bonny? What? Did I? I lived!?

Bonny Janet began to cry heavily and ran up to Incineroar and gave him the biggest hug she could offer.

Incineroar: Woah! Umm…

Bonny Janet: I’m sorry…sorry for all the stuff tha’ happened ta yer. It was all because o’ me. If it weren’t for me. Yer wouldn’t ‘ave got hurt.

Incineroar: No. You’re wrong. Kid…If it wasn’t for you, I would still be working for those braindead knuckle draggers. With you by my side. You showed me the true light that resides within, not just humans, but all living things alike. And I thank you for that.

Bonny Janet held Incineroar tighter now knowing the stress of the belief that her actions caused harm could now be lifted off her shoulders.

-One Week Later-

Bonny Janet: A'ight I’m about ta do it but I 'ave ta ask one more tame. Are yer sure?

Incineroar: Yes! How many times kid?

Bonny Janet: Aye just don’t know if aye should.

Incineroar: Kid, you’ve been trying to do this most of your time here. Now you’ve got the chance and your turning down the offer? Make up your mind. Besides I don’t exactly gotta stay in it.

Bonny Janet: (sigh) Ok fine. (Holds up a pokéball) Ready?

Incineroar: As I’ll ever be.

Bonny taps the pokéball against Incineroar’s fist. It wobbled around a few times before clicking in place showing Incineroar had been captured.

Bonny Janet: Yes! I did it!

Everyone who was apparently watching: YAY! After so long she did it!

Incineroar: Hey this place is pretty cosy. There’s a bed, not that I’ll sleep in here. A play area. A wrestling ring!? How are they fittin’ this stuff here!? THEY HAVE A JACUZZI!?

Bonny Janet, sending him out: A'ight that’s enough, Nirvana.

Incineroar: No my Nirvana. Dude that place was incredible I should’ve got caught ages ago.

Bonny Janet: Tha’s not what matters remember Incineroar? Hold up aye’ve gotta give yer a name…How about…Jasper, the rings roaring flame!

Incineroar: Jasper 'ey? That ain’t too shabby. And yeah I know all that mumbo jumbo. It ain’t about profit, power, or Nirvana. It’s about…

The Bond Between People & Pokemon

Incineroar: HEY TITLE! You stole my line!

Bonny Janet: Come on we’ll just boot their arse later.

Incineroar: Yeah, in the mean time let’s kick everyone eles ass!

The End. :3

[lunawings]

King of Prism SSS episode 4 commentary (Kakeru)

Ahhhh.... finally seeing this episode again after a long time was really good. You may think I’m just being over-dramatic, but I honestly think I felt normal again for the first time since seeing SSS Part 4 while I was watching the stream with you guys. Like halfway through I was like WOAH IM SMILING... ahah....... ha......... Part 4 messed me up even more than I thought holy s--

Thanks for always coming to the streams! And thank you Kakeru, for reminding me about love.....

*deep breath* Now, let’s get to it...

So like I mentioned last time, we’re now on what I know as the “Part 2″ episodes.

 My experience seeing Part 2 in the theater was like night and day compared to seeing Part 1. For Part 1 I got to go to the midnight showing, and it was super emotional and exciting seeing it with an entire theater-worth of people also seeing it for the first time. 

But for Part 2 I had to work until 1am and thus couldn’t make the midnight showing. Instead I slept for about 2-3 hours, went all the way to Nagoya, saw this at 8am, went all the way home, and went back to bed before waking up again to go to work at 4pm wondering if it was all a weird dream. So needless to say I was super out of it. I got about two minutes into Kakeru’s episode when I was like... wha... huh..... wait wha....... and comical sweat-beads started rolling down my forehead when I realized I had NO idea what was going on. I felt like the entire theater was just as out of it as I was since they were really quiet. Probably because most of them went to the midnight showing and got just about as much sleep as I did....

The whole what is going onnnnnnnn feeling never quite left me. Especially with this episode in particular. But.  

My favorite feature of Kakeru has always been his eyes....

So seeing him go through 8 stages of acceptance in this opening always gives me chills....

OH MY FUCKING G..............

So in the past I have railed on Crunchyroll for their wonky wording, but this is the first outright mistranslation I think. (Unless “solid style” wasn’t on purpose, but that one was so ridiculous I kinda feel like it may have been....)

If you have seen Pride the Hero, you’ll know Kakeru doesn’t leak the Prism System to his friends. He leaks it to the Itsutomo Group. 

To be fair Sadana doesn’t say Itsutomo Group here. Just Itsutomo. But still, what did the translator think the “Itsu” part meant? They leave so many things as-is, but this... THIS they decide to attempt to translate into something. 

Okay. OKAY...................................

I really, really like Kakeru’s dad. But not for anything he does in the movies/anime. He’s a super boring pushover here. But if you take Young of Prism and layer it on top of all that..... he’s fucking great. 

I was so out of it when I first saw this the entire natural gas plot went over my head. I was just like “Episode 5: Kakeru goes to Madagascar. Does a prism show. Then he comes back for some reason. The end?????” 

I also missed the earlier reference as well. To think when Kakeru looks at the newspaper in episode 1 and is like “Natural gas is expensive!!” that was foreshadowing ahah. 

So this is the most controversial part of the episode I think. Globalization/colonization/industrialism has done damage lot of nations which were just fine beforehand, and I think paving over all of Africa’s natural habitats would likely cause.... various problems. 

Do I really have any right to be commentating on this? No. But I don’t think King of Prism does either. I just don’t think it’s really the time/place for it. 

But all-in-all I suppose Merina’s opinion isn’t too unusual for someone who works for Juuouin Group. I just wish they made it more clearer that his opinion and not the general opinion of Madagascar. 

But then again what do I know. I really don’t even want to be talking about this!! It was just such a weird choice to take this episode to Madagascar at all. 

This brought me so much joy. Please go read Young of Prism if you haven’t yet. 

NNghkdhgkdhg baby Kakeru................. face......... uuuUUUgfh and his cute little voice...........

I also often wonder what Kakeru was doing in Kodama’s office in the first place. He’s not actually his uncle I believe.

My headcanon is that his mother dropped him off there one day when she was busy with something and needed someone to watch him quickly, then Kodama-san’s office just gradually became Kakeru’s daycare. 

In cheering people will point up one concert light shaking with increasing intensity. Usually orange because nobody knows what other color to use. 

.......GGDGDGDGdksl;fl;sgs.......... AHHHHHHHHHH.....HHH........hhhhhhhhh.. K.....

Crunchyroll agrees with me that Kakeru’s father is “Momojiro”. I know that’s the most likely reading, I’m just really bothered and concerned that there is just no furigana for it anywhere.

And behold, my favorite Kakeru face of all time. 

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh poor baby you were so pure back then

And behold my second favorite Kakeru face of all time aahaha

Okay now is as good a time as ever to bring it up, but. 

I’m a bit disappointed that young Kakeru doesn’t wear glasses. 

Because most kids get glasses before middle school if they are going to get them, don’t they? It makes me worry Kakeru’s glasses are just an image thing. 

I mean he’s certainly frikkin adorable without them, but I dunno.... It made me weirdly happy to learn that Hiro wears contacts in episode 1. 

I just want visually impaired comrades in my anime I guess!!!

Or maybe he just went without for longer than he should have by memorizing the eye test by listening to the kid in front of him like I did. 

Kakeru can you see I’m worried about you.

Okay I’ll move on......

So someone pointed this out in the stream, but he doesn’t really say “mood” here. He says “kao iro” which would translate more into like... health? I don’t know. I honestly have no idea what he was getting at and it’s always puzzled me. 

Oh the controversy.....

Okay so, that whole non-issue aside. About the rest of this scene. 

I am not particularly offended by it for two reasons. 

First...

Kakeru’s grandfather is giving him important life advice while his face is IN A BOOB

YOU CANT TAKE THIS SHIT SERIOUSLY COME ON 

King of Prism has a tenancy to pair serious moments with ridiculous visuals that nearly ruin them on purpose and it’s a whole other level of humor ahah. There is an even better example of this in the next episode.......

Secondly...

KEI-CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN

In the theater people hold up two light blue lights as soon as she rises up and then go nuts. It’s the best. 

While most of the other characters were inspired by watching male prism stars like Hijiri or Rei, Kakeru watched mostly the girls and I get a kick out of that. We have already known he’s their fan for a while due to his Blowin’ in the Mind ringtone and side materials saying he has their magazines in his room, etc. 

“What” - cheering audience

So if you look up “kakeru” in a Japanese-English dictionary, you’ll know it has.... a lot of meanings. And since they always write the boys’ names in katakana (to make it ambiguous I guess) you can never know for sure. 

Here we confirmed for the first time it is intended to be 翔 = to fly/soar

This is a theme throughout SSS. How much Shin changed things for everyone............(I’ll come back to this)............

LOVE

So I guess when Kakeru got back from Madagascar Leo was like “So what do you want for your Prism One outfit?” and he was like “Make me a flamingo” and Leo was like “......You got it.”

Or maybe Leo was already like half done with Kakeru’s outfit and then he just burst in the door like “LEO I NEED TO BE A FLAMINGO--” 

I only have one bad thing to say about Kakeru’s prism show and it has nothing to do with Kakeru’s prism show. I noticed that his legwork is really similar to Taiga’s, which was when I realized for the first time that it’s the same person doing all the motion capture. So that kind of brought me back to reality a little bit. But oh well. That person is really fucking talented. 

They have been talking about Kakeru doing a prism jump where he’s naked with a pile of money for YEARS. HE DID IT. I’ve seen it in manga, I’ve seen it on Prism Rush... BUT THIS

Also how similar this is to the Prism Rush version amazes me...

CYALUME CH--

.....So I guess the translators haven’t watched PriPara either huh.

Wait is this even supposed to be for “Cyalume Change” because the subtitle is at such weird timing. 

Also I felt bad afterwards about putting “CYALUME CHANGE” as one of my shitty out of context spoilers ahah. I hope I didn’t ruin it for anyone. At least I didn’t say what episode it was. My hope is that anyone who read it has been waiting to be blindsided by CYALUME CHANGE and it came at the best possible moment. 

The first couple times I saw this episode I really wondered how cheering would go since so much of this episode is just business mumbo jumbo and if a lot of people would even show up for Part 2 cheering at all. 

But then after about a week in I found myself waiting in the lobby before a sold out cheering show and saw a girl whip out a giant pink feathery fan. 

Then the girl next to her was like hold my beer and took out a giant (fake) money fan. 

Never underestimate Kakeru fangirls is a lesson I have learned over and over and over again. 

A lot of people will also have three or four pink concert lights in one hand and an orange one or a color changing one in the other for this part ahah. 

PAINT IT ORANGE PAINT IT ORANGE 

(The lyrics to this song are nonsense. But it’s Kakeru, you can’t expect anything less.)

Prism shows with jungle animals are always a good time. (I can’t help but think of Shi Yoon.) 

And there you have it, Kakeru saved the entire country of Madagascar.... with his prism show........ let’s not..... let’s not think too hard about this........

I suppose there are multiple ways this could be true so I shouldn’t be thinking too hard about this either. But. 

The debut of the Leo pigtails. 

Well actually I think he had them earlier in the episode too, but this was the first time I noticed. 

Nothing warms my heart more than the few times Taiga throws Kakeru a bone by showing him the tiniest bit of affection. Even if it’s tsundere. Look at him. He’s just so happy. Aw Kakeru. Good for you.  

I think this moment was kinda ruined by the new ending music though. In the theater it’s more quiet. 

So I have always kinda felt like the Part 2 episodes are a bit weak compared with Part 1 and Part 3, but that’s probably a bit unfair considering how I experienced them. All of them grew on me more with time. It was also kind of hard coming down off of Taiga’s episode. After Taiga’s was so high tension I kinda expected the same for Kakeru too, but they went in a totally different direction. It was nothing like I thought it would be.

Before it aired I wondered if it would be about Kakeru trying to decide if spending his life in the Juuouin Group was right for him or not. And he did question it at one point when he was younger, but unless I misinterpreted it this episode was more about him loosing what he had and trying to get it back? He had doubts in his mind at one time about whether love exists, but he already came to believe it does before the events of this episode. So I guess Kakeru really has no doubt in his mind about what he wants for his future. You know, I think I like that better. I worry about him burning out with all the stuff he does, but it really does seem to be his true calling.  

I find it rather sad that the Edel Rose boys never found out Kakeru’s backstory though. Instead he shares it with Merina. He couldn’t even tell them he was leaving. But then again, Minato quickly interpreted that it was probably too difficult for him, I’m sure he was right. The other boys seemed to understand and support him regardless. Kakeruuuuuuuuu...............

In side materials it’s kinda of hinted at here and there that Kakeru really wants to be more like Minato. He wants to be someone strong who supports everyone. He also really seems to not want to show any weakness to anyone, especially his friends....? (As I’m typing this I’m thinking back to the White Day event on Prism Rush when he was trying so hard to organize everything while also trying his hardest to hide that he was falling apart......) I guess he picked this up in the business world as well. Because of this I still feel there is a lot to Kakeru we still don’t know. 

Well. Since I remembered this time and I liked this one: The special video for this episode that they show in the theaters has a voice over describing Kakeru’s  intense schedule on a normal day. 

But apparently on weekends he does no work at all. He gets caught up on manga and then plays with his friends. They showed a lot of stills of him hanging out with the Edel Rose boys, but my favorite and the one I remember the most was him playing arcade games with Shin (on a mysteriously PriPara-looking cabinet.... I think it was a fighting game though?)

Also Kakeru has a secret trunk in his room which must never be opened. 

[eerythingisshaka]

Will the Bell Ring? Pt. 3

(Erik Killmonger x Black!OC)

Part 1 Part 2

Kimara pays the barista for her green tea and goes across the street to the studio.  This week has been a hectic one for her since she’s been working with Peter Gafflin, an alternative rock artist who is on the come up since his EP dropped last year.  Kimara was owed a favor from the owner of the studio, Rick, after Erik helped get him some new equipment from a group that trashed the place after a drug fueled mosh pit they formed to add ambiance to their album.  Suffice to say, they would not be returning to record any time soon.

When she enters the studio, Rick is there playing in his grey locs nervously.

“Kimmy!  Good to see you 15 minutes past showtime, I really appreciate it.”  He smiles, dimples still displaying powerfully under is grey beard.

She shrugs.  “You know I have a process, Ricky Kanicky!  It all works out in the end, thanks for the hookup on this gig.  Are they waiting on me?”

Rick holds out his arm to escort her to the back.  “Nah, I stalled them with some mic check mumbo jumbo, so at least their warmed up properly.  You need some time in the booth before we start?”

She shakes her head as he opens the door.  A gust of patchouli hits her senses.  Peter Gafflin and his gang were warming up in a way much different than how Rick described.

“Rick!  Thank God, I was ready to call the police, you were gone for like three hours man!”  Peter’s rough Carolinian accent boomed as he walked wistfully over to you two in his holely jeans and cowboy boots with his fringed black leather jacket and matching wide brimmed hat.

“No, I just had to go get some extra talent to guide our recording session along.  This is Kimara, she’s the third part to our banging backup we keep on hand for artists.”

Peter towers over her at 6’7, but humbly bends to kiss your hand like a prince.  “To God be the glory for creating women and music.  Put them together and I’m a happy Papa, you know what I’m saying?!”  He ribs Rick before clapping thunderously to liven his group.  “Aight y’all!  Look alive.   Dave get your Fender, Bill get your wide ass behind them drums, everybody take your places!”

Kimara goes over to the mics with her other singers.  “Wassup Brenda?  Tara?”

They roll their eyes at you before mumbling their hellos.  You put your headphones on to get ready for the track to play, not studdin them today.  They were the fourth pair this year to work for Rick and the studio.  They all get inspired to be solo artists or get too wrapped up in the artist of the day and think they can keep up with a touring schedule to only come out of it broke with no plan B, and pregnant.  

Singing has always been her dream to do, and any capacity in which Kimara can fulfill that, is one she is willing to go for.  It’s her escape, her home away from home, it’s her church, especially when the artist has some good stuff to work with.  Kimara hadn’t gotten as in depth with Peter’s discography as she usually does with artist’s before a recording session because her mind could not focus lately.  Trying to have a baby has been on her mind 24/7 and Erik filling her mind with hope and then trying to tell her to chill made her crazy.  Did he want a baby as bad as she did?  Kimara didn’t think so anymore.

She shakes her head and takes a few deep breaths before looking over the music with the girls.  Brenda catches her up on the tempo of the song and little points in which Peter wanted them to blow.  Southern singers couldn’t deny the power of a good Black gospel when they needed it.

Peter certainly is no exception.  He places his hands in front of his mouth in prayer before raising them up to the sky, bringing them down with shaky fists.

“Now THAT is a climax if I ever heard one.  What did I tell you Rick?  Music and women, the best sounds on this Earth come from both.”  Peter smiles pointing victoriously at the three of them before taking his place at his mic.  “I’m ready ladies, let’s record this thing!”

After a few dry rehearsals, time came to record.  Kimara gives a thumbs up to Rick as he queues up the track to play in your ears.   The song isn’t bad, kind of bluesy and it’s about a love misunderstood.   Peter plays a man who is trying to convince his lover out of depression, using the analogy of being in shark infested waters.  His lover finds the water and waves so beautiful she jumps from the boat and dives in after he protests over and over.  He is subjected to watch as the sharks circle around her, he reaches out to her the whole time reminding her that he is there and to take his hand.  He can’t tell if her face is wet from the ocean or from tears but she is smiling all the same and it frustrates him to see the danger looming but she isn’t phased.  

The song ends ambiguously but Kimara can’t stop her emotions from spilling over and affecting her vocals a little bit.  Rick notices immediately and cuts the session short, popping into the booth.  

“Hey Kimara, you alright?”  He asks in a fatherly manner.  

All she can do is nod and wipe her eyes as she wishes she was anywhere but there.  Being late is unprofessional enough, but costing an artist studio time, she might as well hang it up now.  Peter comes over to Kimara, waving at Rick.  “We’re fine, just give us a minute.”  He dips his height down to look her in her eyes.  “You alright there, ma’am?”

Kimara nods shrugging.  “The song is just that good I guess.”

Peter shakes his head.  “No, it isn’t.  My buddy Ralph helped me to write it, I’ve been wondering about the composition of it since, but when he died in a car crash a couple months ago, I haven’t been able to nail this thing down.  He’d know exactly what it needs, but he ain’t here to tell it.”

“I’m sorry for your loss Peter.”  Kimara says apologetically.

Peter smiles.  “I didn’t kill him, so all’s good!  I want you to sing a little something on the track for me, just you, to kind of hear how it sounds.  Don’t worry about my notes, just do what feels good to you.”

Peter motions to Rick as he walks Kimara over to his mic, setting the headphones over her ears.  Kimara feels nervous instantly, not knowing what to do with the spotlight being on her, this has never happened to her before.  

But as the track plays, she sings the lyrics from her heart.  They were pretty simple and easy to memorize so when she closed her eyes and flowed with the track, she began to feel that familiar emotion again, accept this time she honed it as best as she could.  She knew where her inspiration came from, it was undeniable, but why did he bring the sadness out so easily?  Before she knew, the song was done and when she opened her eyes, Peter was on one knee with his hands out.

“You see me right now?  This is what you just did to me, an old bachelor crooner ready to lay down it all for your hand.  Are you betrothed my dear?”

Kimara laughs as she takes off her headphones, stepping back.  “None of your business, because you are too wild for me anyway!”  

Peter gets up pointing at Rick.  “You hiding treasures from me, you greedy bastard!  This girl ain’t a back up, she’s a star in the making!”

Kimara felt hot, trying her best to appear humble, but this man has a way with words that made her completely big headed.  “It’s nothing.  I don’t have the time for that right now.  I’m focusing on my personal life.”

Peter smiles but appears disappointed.  “Girl the places you can go.  I hope you have someone in your life to remind you of your-your QUEENLY-ness!  I wouldn’t leave the house without you by my side.”

Kimara shakes her head.  “Well luckily I do have someone.   He’s….pretty great I think.”

Peter pulls his glasses down the bridge of his nose.  “Well until that ‘think’ turns into a ‘know’ keep me in mind.”

Kimara cackles pushing him away.  “You have some nerve.  Get back to your spot so we can make this album and go home!”  

They share a laugh but before Kimara goes back to her mark she turns to him.  “Peter, I did wonder though, with the song:  Does the lady ever take your hand?  Gets out?”

Peter smiles weakly shaking his head.  “Nah, never does.  Cuz I pushed her in.”

Nine Years Ago

Kimara sits on the couch with a movie playing in the background but she isn’t really looking at it.  Her eyes have glazed over the moving images on her screen and the sounds are similar to being underwater.  There is too much happening in her mind at the moment to even be bothered with the world around her.  

Kimara hangs her head clutching her knees as she thinks back to a couple months ago, when Erik was there.  She had left her part time job at the music college and cautiously pulled up to her house when an ominous figure sat on her front doorstep.  Her keys tucked between her knuckles and 911 ready to just hit dial, she steps out the car.  

“Whatchu want?!”  She bellows, bringing the bass out her voice as much as possible.  His head hung low enough that the front door light couldn’t catch his features, face masked in the darkness.  

She hears him chuckle.  “The hell you barkin at?”  He lifts his head up to look at her.

Kimara’s heart dropped in her stomach at the sound of his voice.  Covering her mouth, she drops her keys to the concrete, overcome with emotion.  He wasn’t supposed to be there, practically considered him dead.  Erik gets up, hugging her tightly.  “I told you I was gonna be aight.  I told you.”

Kimara gasps for breath.  “No!  You ain’t told me though!”  She punches his chest for emphasis.  

Erik pulls her away to lift her face toward his, wiping her eyes.  “I like a surprise, what can I say.”

Kimara sniffles her snot bubbles, stepping back.  “This is so damn embarrassing.  How can you act so cool right now.  I’m a mess, and you put on so much damn weight, like, the fuck!”

Erik opens his jack to look down at himself.  “Well damn!  You still know how to talk crazy to somebody.”

She laughs.  “No, like, look at you!  You got so damn….BIG, like….”  Kimara holds his jacket apart a bit to run her hands down his chest.  

Erik bites his lip nodding.  “Now that’s more like it.”

“Shut up!  I’m just in awe!  You weren’t scrawny for real but not nearly this buff!  What kind of undershirt you got on, you feel bumpy.”  Kimara puls at the collar of his shirt, but Erik swipes her hand away.  

“Uh uh, you gotta earn the show.  Cash upfront.”  Erik jokes, putting his hands in his pockets.  “You look good too, real….real good.  Gettin them squats in huh?”  Erik stands on his toes to look around her backside but Kimara steps sideways.  

“Here you go!  Go on!  I don’t see you for two years and you drop yourself here for what?  Are you back for good?”  Kimara picks her keys up, going to her front door to open it.

“I’m just here to talk, hang out.  I needed a place to lay my head, so I figured I could get two birds with one stone.”  Erik walks in behind her, closing the door.  

Kimara takes off her jacket and sets her bag down.  “That’s fine.  You welcome here.  You gotta tell me how things went!  I know you went to Japan at first, but I didn’t get a letter from you after that, I got kind of worried…”

Erik told Kimara about his time in Japan; he was only there a few weeks before he was selected for Special Ops training, which gave him the physique.  Most of the rest of his missions were confidential, but the orders he was given were implied.  

When he showed his scars and the meaning behind them, Kimara just about lost it.

“How can you mark yourself up like that?!  The memories aren’t enough to live with?  You have to see them on yourself everyday you look in the mirror?”

“Might as well!  I see it when I wake up, when I sleep!  In a way, this is therapy for me, makes me feel like what I did wasn’t for nothing!”

Kimara paces the floor agitated beyond compare.  “Why would you hurt yourself like that?  Haven’t you been through enough to make these permanent changes to yourself?  I still can’t believe the day you signed up for that damn program.  The details were shaky at best.  But the Navy was more important to you than what I thought.”

Erik scoffs.  “This wasn’t about you to begin with.  We didn’t have anything to fight for.  You’re my friend, I had plenty of those.  You think you’re the only one that told me to fall back from it?  Huh?  This gave me purpose, it gave me a vision for my future, something I ain’t had EVER.”

Kimara looked at Erik with disgust.  “You’re a damn dumbass.”

Erik cocked an eyebrow.  “You better be glad I know you like that, I don't let anybody talk to me like that no more.”

Kimara stands her ground with him.  He really forgot who she was.  “I ain't scared of you Erik! You forget that I've known you for years now, I'm not just somebody off the street! I've seen you stressed out for exams, I've seen you dealing with people giving you a hard time for being on scholarship, hell US cuz we Black and they didn't believe us! I get that every year on your father's death date, you get extra distant but you let me in to your little rituals to honor him.  That Wakandan chant you'd do? I still know it by heart, hell I said it for you!”

Erik looked at Kimara angrily but not because she was wrong.  “Stop talkin bout that shit.”

Kimara steps to him.  “What you think you hard now?  You think you got everyone figured out, you so damn smart??  But you won’t even let yourself FEEL shit no more, is that what your big plan is?  Shooting people up and taking their things, like that’s ever worked for anybody.”

Erik snarls.  “Except it has, and I have no problem sending it right back to people.”

Kimara points to the door.  “Get the fuck outta my house Erik.  I didn’t ask for this bullshit in my face.”

Erik turns his chin up at her. “So you done with me now?  Now is when you wanna throw me out?  I knew you wasn’t worried about me anyway.”  As Erik turned away, Kimara pushes his back to get him to the door quicker.

“You fucking bastard!  I wasted my fucking time thinking about you!  You can’t get outta your own damn head to realize who cares about you!”

Erik reaches for the doorknob, standing there a moment listening to her wail.  

“You could’ve been great here with me!  I don’t give a damn how tough you think you are, you aren’t this.”

Kimara grows weak from yelling, crumpling to the floor sobbing.  Erik crouches down to her quicker than he meant to.  It was instinctual more than anything.  “Come on now…”

She holds her hands up.  “No!  You don’t get it.  Whatever those people told you over there isn’t true.  You aren’t more of a man for doing this shit, for scarring yourself up, for not caring.  You’re not human!  You’re not yourself!”

Erik freezes when she says this, something finally clicked in him with what she said.  Erik apologizes softly, but Kimara was tired.  Tired of crying, tired of fighting, she just wanted her friend, she wanted to be happy and for him to be safe and happy too.  Erik just held her in his arms, allowing himself to feel like she kept reminding him to.  It hurt worse than getting the scars did and when he broke, Kimara was glad.  Looking into his face she finally saw the Erik she always knew, the one that she wanted so much from.  The world didn’t trample his soul that day, or any day for the next few weeks following.

Kimara allowed Erik in her heart, something she always fought with herself over because they were such good friends and Erik wasn’t the first person she would assume wanting to settle down.  But when he looked at her it seemed so genuine, so pure she couldn’t help but fall into him.  And that's what she was kicking herself over on that couch a month later, sore and opening a bottle of pills.

Present Day

When Kimara left the studio, she tried calling Erik but didn’t get an answer.   Instead she got a generic text saying he would call her later, in a meeting.

She rolls her eyes and decides to go check on his cousin at the community center.  He’s helped Erik through a whole helluva lot of bullshit before so maybe he could listen to hers.

The state of the art facility was amazing to see given what it used to be.  Old apartments where crime and drugs ran rampant, now it looked like something you would see downtown in the upscale neighborhoods.  

When she got inside, it didn’t take long for her to find T’Challa, crouched and talking to a small child standing next to their mother.  The child gives him a hug, which he took genuinely and that’s when he sees Kimara.

“Janae, I will see you next week to work on your long division, ok?”  He points to her, thanking her mother at the same time before heading over to Kimara.

“Hello!  How are you?”  He says to Kimara warmly.

Kimara bounces on her toes.  “I’m good T’Challa, you?”  They share a church hug.  Kimara is so happy she can call T’Challa family, without him, Erik wouldn’t even be there.

T’Challa sighs heavily, putting his hands behind his back.  “I’ve been better.  I’ve been drowning in chamomile tea and crackers to settle my stomach.  American alcohol is horrendous.”

Kimara laughs.  “Oh yeah, Erik took you out on the town.  Did you have fun at least?”

T’Challa half shrugs, smirking.  “It was successful for what the goal was.  I met with a young lady there and we may have hit it off.  I haven’t contacted her about it yet.”

Kimara’s jaw drops.  “Whaaat?  You playin with women’s heart now T?  I never thought of you as the type.”

T’Challa stutters a bit to find his words.  “It wasn’t really….well, Erik just wanted to cheer me up for me and Nakia not being on the best of terms, so-”

“Yeah, that’s how he was in college.  One girl doesn’t stop his show.”  Kimara rests her hand on the back of her neck, playing with her curls knotting at the nape.

T’Challa looks away, visibly uncomfortable.  “But I do intend to call her back, I just don’t want to appear too eager and things.”

Kimara pokes her bottom lip out, bucking her round brown eyes at him.  “Aww, now don’t go soft on account of me.  I know how guys are, so lemme stop asking about your love life.  However, if it ever becomes official, feel free to invite her to hang with us.  We can make a double date of it.”

T’Challa nods, smiling humbly.  “Of course, that would be delightful.  I am glad you stopped by actually, I imagine you’re looking for this anyway.”  T’Challa turns on his heels, the tails of his jacket picking up with a flourishing wave as he clicks down the hallway.

Kimara follows behind him confused.  “What are you talking about?”

Walking down the halls decorated with projects and works tagged with an ‘A+’ or 100% mark whizzed past them as they approached his office.  Opening the doors to his office, his footsteps muffle against the lush carpet to retrieve something out of his desk.

He pulls out a burlap pouch to hand to Kimara proudly.  “There.  Erik is pretty eager to get started on that regimen so you guys can….have at it!”  T’Challa gestures awkwardly shaking his hands about in front of him.

Kimara screws her face up looking from T’Challa to the bag.  “But I still don’t….OH!  He actually asked you about some erectile, baby juice making bull from you?”

T’Challa’s eyes widen.  “You and him never stray much from details, eh?”

Kimara opens the drawstring of the bag.  “I’m sorry, I just don’t….what is the shit, T?”  Kimara pulls out dried leaves and herbs from the pouch.

T’Challa tuts at her.  “Aye aye, put it back!  He is supposed to boil some water and put that in a cup and drink it.  It’s just a mix of common teas and spices, more of a placebo than a real cure.”

Kimara sighs, closing the bag up and placing a hand on her hip.  “So I guess Erik really does wanna have this baby.”  She murmur to herself.

T’Challa comes around the front of the desk, leaning against it.  “Were you having second thoughts?”

She shakes her head fervently.  “No, I want to be a mother more than anything right now which….may be part of our problem.  I’m forgetting how to be his partner.  We got into a bit of a thing when he had his appointment today.  He keeps saying I should slow down with the baby making regimen, and I thought for a second he wasn’t taking things seriously.”

T’Challa gives an empathetic glance, crossing his arms thoughtfully.  “Excuse me in advance if I’m getting too personal but Erik has told me only a few things, so I’m not unaware.  But I know that Erik has your interests in his heart.  He knows this is important to you and it is equally important to him.  However, he doesn’t do well with rules and regulation.  He likes to make things happen and if it works great, if not, move on to something new.  And maybe this is his way of moving on to a new method.  But it sounds like he wants to take pressure off of you,  like with this herbal method.”

Kimara looks at the bag in her hand, feeling herself relax as she held onto it tightly.  “I think you’re right.  He’s been getting on my nerves with it but I think he’s just trying to show he cares.”

T’Challa nods.  “He does, I’m certain of it.”

Kimara gives T’Challa a grateful hug.  “Thank you so much!  I’m gonna take this to him.  Thanks for your help, I knew I would get what I needed coming to you.”

T’Challa gives her a soft pat on the back before breaking the embrace.  “Anytime.  You guys are a great pair, he’s lucky to have you.”

“You too.  He’s come so far because of...because of you.  So even though these are dud teas, it may make things a little more hopeful, who knows.”

T’Challa clutches his chest, looking hurt.  “Dud teas?  I will tell you those are delicious and very relaxing, if nothing else!  Fresh import from Wakandan gardens of the royal palace-”

Kimara yawns.  “Yeah yeah, I gotta go home now.  Tell Shuri I said hello, and if Nakia give you any trouble…”  Kimara boxes the air with weak punches.

T’Challa walks her out giving final goodbyes before making her way home to the man of her life.  

Walking into their place, Kimara finds Erik sitting on the couch playing 2K.  

“I’m home!”  Kimara calls out, kicking off her shoes and jacket.  Erik presses a combination of buttons on his controller, grunting as he misses his shot at the basket over and over, losing to the computer.

Kimara climbs over the back of the couch, laying her calves over his chest, warming his neck with her serried thighs.  “Erik…”  she whines.

Erik remains unconcerned with her presence.  “Come on, I’m almost done with this quarter, don’t fuck it up.”

Kimara plays with his head, pushing it side to side before resting her breasts on top of him.  “Are you still mad at me?”  

“When did I say I was mad at you?  I thought you were mad at me?”  Erik says, still focused on the game until a loud buzzer makes Kimara jump and Erik tosses the controller on the table in defeat.  

“I’m not mad, I was just...upset and assuming shit.”  Kimara says softly, massaging his scalp.  She feels his shoulders relax under her legs as he strokes them.

“So what problems you tryna work through still?”  Erik says deadpan.

“None!  We don’t have any.”  Kimara says sweetly, feeling hands along his face to scratch his beard.  “T’Challa gave me his little love potion stuff…”  She dangles the bag in front of his face.

Erik takes it, staring at it in his hands.  “Aight, just let me know what time you want me to take this and I’ll be on the way to the bedroom.”

Kimara swings her leg around to slide beside him holding on to his arm.  “Erik, you ain’t gotta worry about that!”

Erik looks so tired, looking at Kimara wearily.  “I don’t wanna be a reason you feel like you can’t get pregnant.  I know you think I’m being childish sometimes but I want a kid just like you.  This ain’t been good for us though, how we doin it.”

“I know,”  Kimara says, resting her chin on his shoulder.  

“And soon as those results from the lab come back, we can talk about other shit, but right now, I got you and I’m good with that.”

Kimara’s heart pounds in her chest, what a lovely man he can be.  “You’re the fucking sweetest.”

“So don’t be looking at your phone in bed with that tracker, don’t just fuck me without tryna be sexy about it, and don’t down my manhood in the heat of your anger.”

Kimara rubs his chest.  “That was bad of me.”

“Damn right it was.  Cuz that ain’t no fucking problem.”

Kimara shakes her head.  “Never.”

“I know faking, and THAT ain’t it.”

“It’s impossible for me to fake THAT.”  Kimara says, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

“So as a man and as your man, lemme take care of what I gotta do on my own terms.  You just keep being cute and fine and smart as you always acting.”

Kimara lays her head across his lap looking up at him.  “Never an act babe, I’m all those things and more.  Including hungry.”

Erik plays in her wild fro with one hand, the other resting at the base of her throat.  “What am I supposed to do about that?  You ain’t got hands to dial delivery?”

“Erik!  I know you got something in that kitchen, I smelt in soon as I walked in.”

“Yeah, for ME.  This a every man for himself house, Ma, you know that.”

“Pleeeease.”  Kimara widens her eyes a bit for good measure.

Erik smirks.  “You better quit all that for I poke your eye out.”

Kimara scoffs, smacking his stomach as she gets up to look in the oven and pull out a brown paper bag with two containers of penne pasta slathered in marinara meat sauce and melty cheese with the crispy crunchy bread she loves so much.

“You were gonna eat two by yourself, huh?”  Kimara quips.

“I can eat a lot more than that, so don’t try me.”  Erik calls across the room.

Kimara gets her serving out and practically skips back to the couch to enjoy and watch Erik play his game.  Except he still had it on pause.  

“So you couldn’t bring mine back witchu?”  He asks, voice raising an octave.

Kimara slurps up a stray string of cheese off her fork.  “Erik, seriously?  I just got in!”

Erik kisses his teeth.  “Ok, lemme have a bite of yours.”

“Uh uh!  Get your lazy self up and get your own!”  Kimara kicks her feet up at him, scarfing another bite.

Erik doesn’t take no for an answer, pushing her legs to one side pinning her.  “Gimme some!”

“No!  You’re gonna make me drop it!”  Kimara squeals, barely holding onto the aluminum container.

Erik just opens his mouth open coming closer and closer to her face.  “You gonna spit on me, close your mouth!”  

Erik guides his mouth to her fork and she hesitantly puts it in his mouth.  He dramatically pauses to savor the flavor, chewing slowly.  “Mm!  Damn that’s good.”

Kimara rolls her eyes.  “Can you get off me now?”

Erik nods, swallowing.  “Yeah, just lemme have some bread and-”

“NIGGA IF YOU DON’T GO!”  Kimara squirming under him.  

Erik takes the container from her hand setting it on the table.  “Chill I gotta digest now.”  Erik proceeds to open her legs up laying his head against her chest, snuggling in her womanly comforts.  Kimara is lowkey seething when all she wants is some damn dinner, but in reality it had been a while since they had been this playful with each other.  Putting her needs aside, she takes the time to enjoy his weight on her, his heartbeat on her stomach, the warmth in between her.  

“Sing me somethin.”  He mumbles in her titties.  

That night and every night following for the next two weeks were grand.  Kimara hadn’t felt that kind of love for Erik in a length of time she would be embarrassed to admit.  It felt like they were dating all over again and she would’ve loved for that to have stayed that way, but then his results came back and her worries erupted all over again.

Part 4

Masterlist

Ragtag

@chaneajoyyy @sarcastic-sunshines @muse-of-mbaku@dameshaemonique  @fonville-designs @destinio1@bakarisangel @wakanda-inspired @klaine15689 @savageiz @nickidub718 @yoyolovesbucky

[danieyells]

Project Of War

»Warnings: reader insert/second person narration(not as the MC of MLQC), "you" get kidnapped, "you" are lightly threatened, "you" are dehumanized to an extent, implications of past/future torture, implications/mentions of future human experimentation, mentions of sharps and things that may need warning to the hospital-sensitive.

»Notes: I’ve never written for MLQC before(not to mention we see Ares maybe four times in the English release so far) so expect characterization/speech clumsiness. Also i try and be kind of open ended about things like "your" responses and actions and thoughts so it may read somewhat oddly. . .? Mm. I haven’t written in a good while so excuse it being all over the place.

»Description: just scene writing and reader-fic practice i suppose--"you" are taken to what is implicitly Black Swan by Lucien/Ares and "you" don't seem like you're going to be allowed to leave anytime soon. It doesn't go anywhere--originally it was supposed to go very differently and take place further in the future in the same setting but somehow i wound up writing this instead lol. . . . Not shippy or romantic in any nature.  Maybe if I have more ideas for whatever this story verse is.

»Length: 1215 words

You were just an ordinary human.

You knew what an "Evolver" supposedly was. You'd watched Miracle Finder--just about everybody had seen at least one episode, and the recent episodes had been a hit. Perhaps you didn't believe in what they spoke of or showed on the series, but you'd seen or heard enough about it to know what they talked about.

Most disregarded it as the usual magic mumbo jumbo, nonsense, falsified, or things that could be explained some other way. Whether or not you were one of them was apparently not important.

Perhaps you'd been among those who admired some of the producer's recent guests on both Miracle Finder and other series she made. Four in particular stood out to every viewer, be it for their attractiveness or social standing or how close they always seemed to be to the producer whenever they were on screen together.

Perhaps one of them was the one before you.

But it was a little too dark for you to truly confirm that suspicion.

And with his back to you, his hand holding your wrist, pulling you along through halls that looked nothing like they belonged to the TV Tower you'd been pulled into, you only had the brief memory of his face, now somewhat blurry since having had come inside.

Professor Lucien was the name he gave before cameras and to his students.

"Ares" was the name the shadowy figures about you whispered, nerves and respect and fear in their voices, radiating off of them in the halls and making the already oppressive darkness that much unnaturally heavier. Weighted down by nerves and terror and. . .

Was there pity in there as well?

Perhaps you struggled. Perhaps you demanded to be released. If you did, his leading would pause, the air would seem stiffer with the tension of the people who mist have been in the surrounding dark.

"Stop it." He'd demand of you, somehow harsh and unfeeling all the same. "If you don't cooperate, I can make you cooperate. But I'd rather not waste my time--so shut up and behave yourself."

Nothing like the fawned over Professor that you knew of, nothing like the friendly and airy voice that lectured on neuroscience and psychology, in the dark you could even believe this was a different man.

In the light you couldn't be so wishful.

Should you not believe him, not agree to be led, express disbelief in his ability to keep you obedient, he looked over his shoulder at you, eyes dark, empty, icy, then past you.

"Come." He ordered, though not to you, and hesitantly one of those shadows around you stepped forward. And it seemed like the darkness collectively sucked in a breath.

"Ares, Sir." The nervous shadow barely had time to bow in its respects before 'Ares' reached out to it. Snapping fingers in front of its face, the shadow stood at attention--and even in the darkness their fear was evident, wide eyes glancing at you and, were they not full of dimly lit anxiety, perhaps they would have been angry--if you'd simply done as you were told--

Ares pressed two fingers to the forehead of the person he'd called over and all at once their eyes widened further, though it may not have seemed possible.

Even in the unlit hallway you could see the light leave their eyes, from wide with terror to lidded, dull, and empty, their tension seeming to drop away--along with their footing. If not for Ares holding their leaning form up with his fingers, they surely would have fallen.

And they did just that when he pulled away, toppling down as if boneless. In the hall there was a quiet curse, whispers, another shadowy figure approaching the one who'd collapsed at your feet. They were breathing, alive, but. . . .

What exactly had he done to them that a simple touch would. . .?

If you hadn't before, perhaps that was when you'd chosen to allow yourself to be pulled along.

God help you if you said anything he could interpret as "make me."

The dark hall did end. A door stood before you briefly before opening, and as Ares stepped in with you you were blinded by what must have had been motion-activated lights.

By the time you could see and got your bearings back, you were sat in what must have had been an examination chair, the kind you'd find at your doctor's office.

As for escaping, any attempt was met with a short, discouraging sound from the man who'd brought you here, and a strange sound like glass cracking at your waist.

You were not bound by any means, but if you were to slide off of the chair in any direction but perhaps up, what awaited you were sharp, jagged. . .somethings. Suspended around your place like glass frozen in the air. But it didn't look quite like glass--rather, the sharp edged, somewhat transparent threats to your safety seemed more like. . . .

Solid light?

"I need you alive." He clarified whether or not you chose to pursue escape despite the dangers. He turned to you from elsewhere in the room, by counters covered in all manner of sharps and tubes of substances whose labels probably wouldn't have had made sense if you could read them from your distance. Bottles of pills, the labels similarly unreadable, but everything was clean and new. "Alive and as physically unharmed as you came. So don't move around too much."

Somehow you felt more offput by that your surroundings were so sterile and hospital-like. It felt uncanny, like a mask, like the face he wore for the camera or his students. Like it was only clean so it could become dirtied again.

"What are you doing here." He drawled, whether you asked or not, walking towards you. What were once dark eyes were now pale save for their pupils, pale and reflective and iridescent white. And yet somehow they still felt dull and dark and lightless. The few shadows in the well lit room seemed to grow darker, despite no change in any solid objects or lighting. He examined you, the slightest of smirks lifting onto his face.

"I needed a subject. That's all. A guinea pig. For an experiment."

But why you? He reached out to touch your face, tilting your head to look into your eyes. Searching. But not for an answer you knew you had.

"You've met my criteria. Until I inform you otherwise, all you need to know now is that you are my project. Projects do not ask questions. Projects provide answers.

"And don't worry about not being able to." His grin was sharp, the look in his eyes a satisfied one. Pleased with you. He pat your head, the action condescending--he'd already discounted your personhood and disregarded what rights you may have had in the outside world when he declared you a 'project'--not a person but a thing, an experiment to learn from. "You will. And you won't even have to work hard to do it.

"Feel privileged. By the time I'm through with you, you'll have helped change the world for the better. That is the goal of Black Swan--and so that is your new purpose as well."

[perfectlyrose]

Up In Flames (8/10)

Summary: In the year since they decided to become a team, John Smith and Rose Tyler have made quite the names for themselves as Team TARDIS, bank robbers extraordinaire. Newspapers the world over run headlines about The Doctor and the Bad Wolf and their latest heists. They’re practically unstoppable.

Then their world spins to a halt with a phone call. Jack’s in trouble again and a formidable enemy from John’s past has emerged from the shadows to try and destroy the bank robbing couple once and for all. Will they be able to survive this new threat intact or will the life they’ve been building together go up in flames?

A sequel to Watch it Burn, a Nine/Rose bank robbers AU

Note: a chapter a day after the last one? you’re not imagining things! one more to go after this (and possibly an epilogue, we’ll see)

Word Count: 3103

Rating: Teen

Read here: tumblr // ao3 // tsp // ff

“You got in my way with that first bank heist of yours,” the Master said. “I don’t like people getting in my way.”

Rose stole a glance at John, wondering if this was really about the Agency job or it was about him.

“It was a bonus to find out one of the people I was searching for was my old friend Theta,” the Master continued. He looked at Rose. “We used to be partners, you know.”

She didn’t respond, already knowing this bit of information.

“Ah, so he told you that much, did he?” He shifted his focus to John who was glaring daggers at him, jaw clenched. “Did you tell her what we did, Theta? Or did you try to hide your multitude of sins?”

Rose saw a flash of pain cross John’s face and knew the Master saw it too.

“You tried to hide it!” The Master laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. Didn’t want her to leave when she found out who you really are?”

The Master turned his gaze back to Rose. “Let me tell you for him. You might regret rushing in here to save him when you find out what he really is.”

“Was,” John interjected, voice rough. “It’s who I was.”

The Master waved his free hand at John dismissively, gun not wavering from where it was trained on Rose. “Makes no difference.”

“I don’t care about his past,” Rose insisted.

“Oh, but you should,” the Master said. His voice was sickly sweet and Rose wanted to recoil from it. “

“We were killers, little wolf. Assassins. Technically working for the government but they would have disavowed us if asked.”

Rose worked to keep her face blank but it felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. She hadn’t ever considered this possibility in the millions of half-formed ideas about John’s past that she’d dreamed up.

His reasons for trying so hard to bury that part of his life made perfect sense now. She wanted to hug John. She wanted to tear the Master’s throat out with her teeth for dredging all this up when John wasn’t ready to share.

Rose couldn’t do either of those so she settled for glaring at the man who was trying to hurt the man she loved. He would pay for it as soon as she could manage.

He laughed. “Whoever decided you were a wolf has obviously seen that look on your face. Fangs are no good here, not when I have about six guns trained on you.”

Rose didn’t have an answer for that so she pressed her lips together and kept her mouth shut. She didn’t dare look over at John, knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep the concern from her expression.

“Not only were we assassins, we were some of the best,” the Master continued. “We were trained to be the best and we were successful. A trusted team tasked with the hardest kills. Do you want to know how many missions we ran?”

“I don’t care,” Rose said.

“You do,” the Master said. “I can read it all over your face.”

“John isn’t a killer anymore and that’s all that matters to me,” she said.

“Ah, but you didn’t know he was a killer before. That changes things,” he insisted. “You’ll just have to mull it over. Won’t she, Theta?” He looked over at John. “I’m sure she’ll have plenty of time to think over the fact that she’s been fucking a killer for the past year while I figure out what to do with the pair of you. I wonder how long it will take before she decides she wants nothing to do with you.”

“Fuck off,” John said, anger bubbling under the two brusque syllables.

“Or maybe I’ll just kill her so there’s one less person to deal with around here.”

John growled.

“But not yet of course. We haven’t even started to delve into her secrets,” the Master said.

A wave of unease rolled over Rose.

“Don’t you want to know all about Miss Rose Marion Tyler’s past?”

Rose shivered at the sound of her name on his tongue, unnerved by the way he said it, by the fact that he knew it.

“Yes, I do know your name, little flower,” he said, correctly reading the shock on her face. “I know more than that, even.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” Rose heard the uncertainty in her own voice and she hated that it was entirely real.

“Oh, but I do,” the Master said, smile growing. “I bet you haven’t told your precious John here where you come from.”

“He knows enough,” Rose said, head spinning as she tried to figure out what he could know.

“Does he know that you’re nothing more than a chav off the estates who dropped out of school? That you dropped out to run away with a boy?”

Rose’s blood thrummed through her, waiting to see if he knew anything of the rest of her story.

“Ran away to play the whore for a year only to come home and watch her mother die,” he continued. “That’s who you’ve aligned yourself with, Theta. Quite the step down. Your little flower is nothing more than a common thief with a common, sordid past and it’s time you see that.”

Rose knew that her past wouldn’t matter to John, especially not these tiny tidbits that the Master had dug up. It didn’t stop the fear from rising as she wondered if he’d found anything else and if he’d disclose it before she could tell it to John herself.

She let her head drop, gathering herself for her next move and listening to the sudden chatter over her earbud as Amy moved forward with her side of the plan.

“Don’t you see it?” The Master urged. “She’s nothing and she knows it.”

“She’s a million times better than you,” John shot back.

“You’re deluded,” the Master said.

Rose was done letting the Master think he was able to trod all over her and John. It was time to change the game.

She swallowed her fear and let it sing through her veins, let it make her more dangerous in her awareness and acceptance of it. Then she raised her head and looked the Master dead in the eye, letting every mask drop.

Rose snarled, showing her teeth in what was was a clear threat, every inch the wolf she had named herself.

The Master looked a bit taken aback at her sudden shift.

John shivered as he watched Rose turn cold for the second time since he’d known her. It was just as disconcerting and terrifying when aimed at someone else as it had been when she’d turned that icy gaze on him.

“You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” Rose taunted, stepping closer to the Master, completely ignoring the gun he had trained on her and the way his bodyguards all stepped closer. “You did a bit of research and discovered bits of my sob story but you don’t understand a single goddamn thing.”

“I think you’ll find that I do,” he argued, trying to regain control of the situation as Rose began to wrest it away.

“For someone who thinks so much, you’re wrong a lot,” she shot back. “But honestly, you really don’t understand. You bring up my past, hoping that reminding me of it will cripple me, hoping to remind me that I’m just some chav off the estate that needs to remember what her place is. But there’s something you didn’t count on because you don’t understand me at all.”

“Please, little flower, enlighten us all,” he sneered.

“I know I’m a chav off the estate. I’m not ashamed of my past and I haven’t tried to forget it,” she said, voice frightening in its evenness. “My past doesn’t cripple me, it just makes me stronger because I made it through more than your research will ever let on.”

The Master rolled his eyes but John could tell he was off balance now that Rose was no longer playing the trembling thief he’d expected her to be.

“You keep calling me a little flower like that’s meant to demean me as well,” she continued, not letting him get a word in. “Well, I’ve been a flower my whole life, long before I named myself a wolf. You’d do well to remember exactly what kind of flower I am.”

“That's what you're building up to?” the Master said, voice dripping in condescension. “A threat that roses have thorns? You're exactly what I expected. A pretty little thing with no brains. Don't know what Theta sees in you.”

Rose smiled and it almost sent shivers down the Master’s spine. For a fraction of a second, he considered that maybe this girl had potential, that she wasn’t the weak link in the partnership. He almost recognized the familiar spark of ruthless genius that burned bright and cold behind her eyes.

Almost.

“That’s because you’ve always been remarkably shortsighted for someone who calls himself a genius. Yes, roses have thorns.” She took another step forward, not taking her eyes of the Master, continuing to disregard the gun pointed at her chest. “They’re also the flower of love.”

The Master sneered. “So?”

“You’ve never understood love and therefore you’ll never understand me,” Rose continued. “That gives me the advantage.”

“No, it just makes you weak.”

Rose’s expression hardened further. “No, it makes me stronger,” she said. “You hurt the people I love and I will not stand for it.”

“All your monologuing about the ‘power of love’ and all this flower mumbo jumbo won’t do you any good,” The Master said. He motioned for John to be brought to him.

The guards pulled him to his feet and shoved him forward. John pushed back against the hand on his shoulder with a growl. That earned him a hard push, sending him to his knees once again, this time next to the Master.

John heard the metallic click of a gun being readied to fire right behind him.

“I have both of you where I want you. The mighty Doctor and his little pet wolf at gunpoint and finally at my mercy.”

“Like you ever had any of that,” John spat.

The Master motioned to the guard and they decked John in the jaw. John’s eyes strayed back to Rose as the blow reverberated through his head, barely catching her flinch.

The Master’s smile was cold as he turned his gaze to his old partner. “You’re right.”

John snarled at him, blood staining his teeth red.

“Anyways, I have you, I have Rose here, and Jack is down in a very disagreeable cell in my basement. I believe that’s the entirety of your little gang of miscreants. No one left to rescue you.” The Master looked positively gleeful. “I win.”

John watched as Rose tilted her head to her side like she could hear something he couldn’t. A smile spread across her face and something akin to hope began to bloom in his chest. Of course she still had a plan, she always did.

He should have known from the start that the only way she would’ve gotten caught was by design. His lips twitched up in a smile to match hers, ready to see exactly what Rose had up her sleeve.

“Are you sure about that?” Rose asked.

The Master faltered for a fraction of a second. “Of course I am.”

“Because I’m thinking that lack of understanding about things like love and friendship are about to bite you in the arse,” she said. Her eyes were hard, unforgiving. Ruthless.

“What the hell are you talking about? You’re the ones captured at gunpoint.”

“I think she’s talking about us,” Amy said, as she put a gun to the back of the Master’s head. She cocked it, the sound echoing in the suddenly silent room.

A motley crew of criminals had the Master’s bodyguards at their mercy. John recognized most of them but not all. They’d snuck in while everyone’s attention was on Rose and the Master’s conversation and surrounded them.

There was a brief scuffle as the guards fought back but Rose’s crew quickly subdued and disarmed them. A blonde with cargo pants and her hair in a high ponytail made quick work of John’s restraints and helped him to his feet.

John didn’t take his eyes off Rose who was staring down the Master. His old enemy still had his gun pointed at her, uncaring that Amy was ready to blow his brains out at any move she didn’t like.

Rose stepped closer, almost coming into contact with the barrel of the Master’s gun. “I win,” she whispered. Before he could make another move, her fist came up and made hard contact with his face.

He staggered backwards. Amy swung her gun and cracked it against the side of the man’s head. He went down in an ungraceful heap.

John lurched forward just as Rose turned to face him. His breath caught at the anger blazing in her eyes, but it was fire now instead of a cold burn and so he kept moving towards her until he had her wrapped up in his arms.

Her grip on him was tight and he winced at the pressure on what were sure to be some colorful mementos of his stay in the Master’s stronghold.

“Are you okay?” Rose asked.

“Little banged up but nothing major,” he said, mouth right next to her ear as he continued to cling to her. “You saved me, Rose.”

She pulled back and thumped a hand against his chest. “I’m so angry with you. You ran off without me and I was so worried!”

“I’m sorry, Rose,” John said. “I was stupid.”

“You were,” she agreed.

“I wanted to keep you safe.”

She shook her head. “You should know by now that I don’t need taking care of.”

He cupped her cheek with one hand, still marvelling that she was here and safe and hopefully not done with him. “I know.”

She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his chest, making his hand drop from her face. “I’m going to yell at you later. A lot.”

John squeezed her tighter. “Okay.”

“Well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes.”

John and Rose pulled apart with matching expressions of happiness at the sound of Jack’s voice.

“Jack!” Rose cried.

She ran towards him and skidded to a stop a few feet away, taking in his appearance. He was leaning on her friend Donna. Numerous bruises and cuts were visible but his smile was as bright and irreverent as always. He’d definitely taken a beating but the Master hadn’t broken him.

“Hey Rosie, hell of a rescue you engineered. Thought I told you not to worry about me.”

“You had to know we wouldn’t just leave you here!”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Jack said. “Hospitality in this place was terrible.”

John walked up behind Rose and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Good to see you, Jack.”

“Likewise.”

“You done playing damsel in distress for a bit?”

Jack grinned. “I’ll always be a damsel in distress for the two of you. Next time I’ll try to dress the part, though.”

Rose groaned and Donna laughed.

“Is he always like this?” she asked.

“Yes,” Rose and John answered in unison.

“You and I are going to get a drink when you’re better,” Donna told Jack.

Jack winked at her. “You got it, sweetheart.”

“Hey Rose, what do you want us to do with this lot?” Amy called.

Rose turned and saw that everyone had been tied up. The blonde with the ponytail had her gun trained on the still unconscious Master. “Jenny? You know anyone who would want them?”

Her smile was a sharp thing. “I can think of a couple intelligence agencies off the top of my head.”

“No one even slightly connected to the Agency or the Lungbarrow Project,” John cut in. “He has ties to both of those and they would try to use him instead of punishing him.”

“Noted,” Jenny said with a nod. “Clara says hello, by the way. She wanted to come but she would’ve shot somebody so I convinced her to stay sidelined as support. She’ll get the right people here, though.”

John’s mouth quirked up into a smile. “You’re the soldier girlfriend, then?”

“That’s me.”

He nodded. “Pick the organization you want to turn them over to and then have Clara get them here.”

“How do you feel about UNIT?” Jenny asked.

“Good rep for trying to do the right thing,” John said. “Good choice.”

“Clara said you owe her a few recipes for her help,” Jenny said after a moment. Clara was obviously talking to her through an earbud.

“I’ll make sure to get them to her,” he promised.

He turned back to Rose. “Do we need to do anything else here besides clear out?”

“We’ve got what we came for,” Rose said. “You’re safe. Jack’s safe and Amy already volunteered to take him home so Rory can tend to his injuries. The Master has been taken down. That’s everything on my checklist besides yelling at you but we’re doing that later.”

John smiled, still just marvelling that she wanted anything to do with him. “Let’s go home, then.”

Rose pulled out a couple of their calling cards from her pocket. “Want to leave these?”

He shook his head. “Let’s save them for the banks. Besides, I didn’t do a great job on working as a team this go round.”

Rose arched an eyebrow. “Glad you’re admitting it. Thought I was going to have to remind you the meaning of TARDIS.”

“Duly remembered. I won’t be forgetting it again.”

Amy reached over Rose’s shoulder and plucked one of the cards out of Rose’s hand. “I have so many questions for the two of you but for now I want one of these as a keepsake.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “You could’ve just asked.”

“Takes the fun out of it.” Amy plucked the comms device out of her ear and handed it to Rose. “If I was still in the game, I’d be commissioning some of these.”

Rose hugged Amy quickly. “Thanks so much for your help, Ames.”

“Anytime.”

Rose thanked everyone else for their help, made sure they had everything under control, and gave Jack a lingering hug before slipping her hand into John’s. They walked out the front door of the Master’s stronghold hand in hand and disappeared into the inky darkness.

[votederpycausemufins]

The next chapter is going to be the last chapter. It’ll mostly end on a happy note, though there will be something at the end :3

@petrichormeraki @helleborusangel

Grian was glad to finally finish sorting through all the paperwork, narrowly missing Lynn arriving with another Watcher to discuss his kids. He dragged Grifter along with him and made a portal back to his base, glad that it seemed everything would be calm for a while. Until Grifter screamed.

Grian was sure it was just going to be a chicken left over from Hermit Challenges since those always seemed to appear at the worst times. Maybe someone wearing a chicken head who happened to be around. But instead, there was actually someone standing there. Someone Grian ever so vaguely recognized.

“H-hi there person I haven’t seen before. I’m Grian and that’s Grian and we cloned oursel-” Grifter quickly tried to say, but then freaked out as a chicken appeared next to him.

“Don’t lie. I already know what’s going on. I don’t like it, but you’ll get out mostly scott free. This time.”

“Ha ha ha... “ Grifter weakly laughed, glancing at the chicken to his side. “Hey, so is Mini-”

“Go home before I change my mind Ze.”

“Um, I actually changed it to-” Grifter started to speak before the chicken next to him hissed, making him jump and then make a portal back to helscraft.

Grian looked away from where his copy stood to where Punch was floating. As a Watcher, Grian could feel the death magic radiating off of the man. The man signaled to the chicken which hopped over to him and fluttered its way up to his lap where he pet it like a villain would their cat. “So. Xel I presume?”

After seeing how Punch had responded to Grifter correcting him, Grian just nodded. “Yeah.”

For a moment, the man just stared at Grian before smiling. “Well I’m sure you’re much better than my nephew. It’s a shame that your guide ignored you all those years ago.”

Grian had no clue what was being talked about. “Guide? What guide?”

“Something that could be discussed another time. You have more things to worry about. I’m sure your mother won’t be happy about me sticking around here too long, so I’ll leave you with a gift.” The man looked down to his chicken. “Kokatori, why not stay with Xelqua for a bit?” The chicken clucked once before hopping back down to the ground and standing next to Grian. “If anyone asks, you got it from a guy named Pablo.”

Punch looked like he was about to leave, but then at the last moment to turn back. “Oh, and by the way, I’d check your calendar if I were you. It’s currently May.”

Grian was left puzzled for a few moments as Punch disappeared. May? What did it currently being May have to do with anything. The only thing going on was closer to the end and- Grian pulled his comm out and checked the date. They had been so focused on the mess of the past week that Grian barely registered the days were actually passing. “I NEED TO FIND MUMBO!”

.

.

.

Mumbo watched as Grian was using Watcher magic to multitask. He had explained everything that happened while Grian was gone to him, and the builder was glad to be filled in, but before Mumbo could ask much, Grian pulled out a calendar, his communicator, a book, and also a lead which he put his new chicken on. “Grian, are you doing okay?”

“NO!” Grian stressfully shouted at Mumbo, making him take a step back. Had something happened? Was someone hurt again? Was it the boys? “I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF GRUM CAN EAT CAKE!”

“I’m… sorry what are you talking about?” Mumbo asked, a bit calmer but much more confused.

Grian thrust the calendar into Mumbo’s face. “It’s currently May 21st! We have less than a week to get everything ready!”

“Ready for…?”

“Are you- GRUM’S FIRST BIRTHDAY!”

Mumbo’s eyes widened at Grian answer. “Oh my word! That really is just around the corner, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I already had some plans in place of course but now it’s basically all out the window since there’s more family and friends involved to invite. Right now the only thing taken care of is presents!”

“Right, and did it get delivered?”

“Of course it did! I hid it in a por- I HID IT IN A PORTAL! THE BOYS COULD ACTUALLY GET THERE NOW!” Grian yelled, freaking out.

“Okay, calm down. It’s going to be fine. If we need to, we can hide it somewhere else. And I’m sure even if we don’t move it, it’s going to be perfectly fine. I doubt either of the boys will manage to get in there.” Mumbo did his best to calm Grian. “I know the boys wanted some people to visit today. Possibly you can get those people to come and we can find time to ask them more about who else the boys might have gotten close to and get a guest list that way.”

Grian was glad to finally finish sorting through all the paperwork, narrowly missing Lynn arriving with another Watcher to discuss his kids

Grian snapped his fingers at the idea before putting almost everything away. “That’s a great idea. Let me message Tommy on the change of plans. You said they wanted Fundy and Michael?”

“And Michael’s parent since he’s young. Parents? I’m not completely sure, I’m sure all those time problems didn’t help.”

“I’m sure they didn’t.” Grian remarked as he finished sending a message. “There. Now I guess we wait for Tommy to respond.” And he didn’t need to wait long as a message arrived. “Okay! He says I can pick them all up, though I might need to search a little for Fundy. But I’m sure he’ll want to visit Iskall at the very least.”

“Oh, that’s right! There’s one thing I forgot to mention.” Mumbo spoke up, making Grian’s head whip in his direction. “It’s maybe a little concerning, but I’m sure it will be fine. It… it just looks like Grum might be skittish around Iskall again. It makes sense after everything that happened of course, but better I remember to tell you now and not let you find out yourself.”

“I guess you’re right about it making sense. It sort of was like he got… void he got brainwashed again.”

“Hey, he managed to do well on his own. Might not be the best way to take after you, but it’s still good he took after your survival skills.”

“Oh ha ha. I don’t have survival skills.” Grian rolled his eyes. “The amount of times I’ve dive bombed or exploded myself. I mean, You know how many times I died testing my minigame mister ‘Watch This’.”

Mumbo chuckled for a moment. “Not one of my finer moments. But I meant about when you were growing up. I know it’s not your favorite time, but you made it through that part of your life. Grum was able to do the same.”

“I wish he didn’t have to. I wish neither of them got stuck there.”

“I’m sure no one did. But they did and got through it, and that’s what matters. So let’s just work on making sure they know everything’s fine now. Go pick up Tommy and the others.”

“Alright. And thanks for the talk Mumbo.”

“Always.”

.

.

.

Jrum was practically bouncing off the walls when he saw Michael. Grum was a bit more reserved, but was also pretty excited. It seemed Michael was a little nervous being in such a new place, but Jrum was quickly at the ziglin’s side to reassure him. To the side, Fundy was currently admiring the marvel that was the spawn area. Since Jrum had gone with their friend, Grum made his way to the hybrid. “Um, hi Fundy.”

“Wh- Oh hey Grum! How’re you doing?”

Grum rubbed his arm. “Better. Thank you for helping me out when everything was happening. You didn’t need to.”

“Of course I did. You’re a kid and what Dream was doing was seriously fucked up.” He got a look from Grum. “Well, okay. Maybe I wouldn’t have normally, but he kept getting me involved and Iskall knew you, so it was kind of different.”

“Well, thank you very much for that.” Grum said, hugging Fundy. “Well, I bet you want to see Iskall’s tree.”

“Oh hell yeah! Where’s the Omega Tree?”

Immediately Jrum was back next to them. “I can take him there! I’ll also see if Iskall is there or can get there soon! You can play with Michael while we’re gone!”

Grum nodded and looked to Michael. “Do you think that your parents will let you follow me through the nether to a place to play? I know a safe path and Dad assured me if something were to happen, you would absolutely safely respawn.”

Michael snorted before running over to Tubbo and Ranboo, interrupting their conversation with Tommy. Grum followed him over to elaborate on whatever he would say, or just translate in general. When they were told of the idea, Ranboo and Tubbo weren’t entirely sure about it, but Tommy put in a good word. “C’mon, Grian and Mumbo let the bots run around on their own all the time. This place is safe, so he’ll be fine.”

“I guess… but only if you two stick to the overworld. The nether might be faster, but it’s also dangerous.” Tubbo relented.

Grum thought it over. They would need to take a boat over to where they were going, and there would be a bit of a trek through the jungle, but there was a path they could take. “Of course! We will do what we can to stay as safe as possible. Now…” Grum pointed to the bubble elevator. “Up the tube!”

Michael followed behind Grum to get to the surface and the bot crafted up a boat for the two of them. As Grum rowed, Michael looked around at everything around them. Though there wasn’t too terribly much in the ocean in the direction they were headed, there were enough large builds that could still be seen to keep Michael in awe.

Eventually they landed and Grum led them through the jungle. “The best place to play is in Uncle Scar’s village. It's got plenty of buildings to work with and the style is perfect for games! And then nearbyish is Larry the snail and the magic arrow.”

Michael oinked a quick question and Grum elaborated as they walked. When they finally reached the village, Michael quickly ran into it and started exploring, Grum quickly following behind the ziglin. Though the buildings themselves were interesting, Michael decided the best thing were the small mushrooms that had built along the path.

“Yeah! My Daddy really likes those too. He also found a haunted bed when he owned the place for a bit. I wonder if it’s still haunted. Ooo!” Michael pretended to be scared before laughing, and then the two went off to play in the village together.

Back at spawn, Tommy was still chatting with Tubbo and Ranboo when Grian arrived. “Hey, have you guys seen my boys?”

“Yeah, Jrum took Fundy to Iskall’s and Grum went with Michael to play.” Tommy answered. “Why, is something wrong?”

“No, I was actually making sure they weren’t around.” Grian looked to Ranboo and Tubbo. “Are you two willing to come back with Michael in like five days? It’s going to be Grum’s birthday and maybe Michael can be one of the guests?”

“Oh hell yeah, you two need to come. It’ll be so pog!” Tommy said, hoping they would agree to visiting again.

“I guess we probably can, but it’ll also depend on how today goes.” Ranboo answered, Tubbo agreeing with him.

“Okay good.” Grian nodded, writing something down. He then looked over to Ranboo. “Do you have any idea some of the people the boys were close to when they were stuck over there?”

“Sometimes I barely remember my name.”

“Hmm, alright I guess I’ll have to ask Fundy.”

“Hey, I do know one thing.” Tommy piped up. “Or maybe two. Wil’s also a big music lover, so there might be something there. The other bit you probably aren’t going to like though.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. What is it?”

“Pretty sure Grum’s favorite uncle is Techno now.”

Grian was just silent as he contemplated the answer. Tommy nervously glanced at his friends before taking a slight step back, worried about how exactly Grian would react. When the avian’s wings started puffing up, Tommy was sure they would need to run, but instead Grian just took a deep breath. “Alright. Fine. I was already planning to invite him since he’s family and all. Yep. It’s fine. Totally fine.”

“It doesn’t sound fine.” Tubbo spoke up, and Grian quickly looked at them with a glare, though he was still smiling.

“Nope. It’s absolutely completely fine.” Then Grian sighed. “Well, I guess I’m going to find Fundy and ask him some questions. If you think of anything else, just message me.”

Tommy agreed before the avian flew off and then looked to his friends. “Alright, so this is probably the best excuse to show you around the shopping district since I’m going to need to pick something up. And if you guys want to buy something, just say the word, I can spare some diamonds.”

“Are you sure? We could get our own-” Ranboo started to speak up, but got stopped by Tommy.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll probably earn back whatever I spend in like a week. Probably from one of the redstoners.” Then Tommy led them to the bubble column. “Now let’s go. Oh, and Ranboo, if you need some armor to help with the water, just grab one from one of the stands. That’s what they’re there for.”

“You mean… the full netherite armor?”

“Yep.”

“Something tells me even I won’t have trouble forgetting all of this.”

[hoyoungy]

star-crossed | jihoon

genre: comedy, “fluff”? | jihoon x “fortune teller”!reader summary: after a sour break up, jihoon stumbles upon a little shop where he gets his palm read by a flirty fortune teller word count: 2033 a/n: my habit is writing jihoon walking into shops........ 

A bright neon sign flashed in front of Jihoon’s face on this rainy Friday night. It was in bright purple and the letters read ASTROLOGY & FORTUNE TELLING with Walk-Ins Welcome right under it. Normally, Jihoon would pass by this eerie place everyday on his way to class, but had never considered going inside, let alone even give it a second glance. Something about astrology and the alignment of the stars and how they determined someone’s personality, or whatever, was at the very bottom of his list of interests.

But tonight was different. Tonight, he wasn’t going about his day as it normally would. Instead of walking home from his loving girlfriend’s place on a warm, clear night, he was walking home newly single without an umbrella and only had his hoodie to keep him warm. Actually, this entire month had been this way, as if the world knew exactly how Jihoon felt.

He kept staring at the sign that glowed in the night. If he normally wouldn’t think about going inside this witchy-like coven, maybe one abnormal night like tonight was the time to check this place out.

His day couldn’t get any worse anyways, right?

The hanging door bells chimed loudly when he opened the door. Immediately, he was hit with a strong scent of incense that smelled like rain, as ironic as that sounded. He sighed loudly, already regretted coming into this place and he hadn’t even taken a step inside yet.

She loved the smell of rain.

The electricity bill of this building must be extremely cheap, since the only things that kept this place illuminated were dozens of candles and twinkling string lights. He could barely see the other end of the store! Maybe if there were other customers in the store, he would have a sense of depth for this place, but alas, he was the only one there like a lonesome traveller who stumbled upon a little hidden treasure.

“Hello ~” he heard someone say dreamily. At the register, he saw you flipping through an old book casually without looking up. With a raised brow, he guessed the whole mysterious vibe he got from you was part of the protocol as an employee here. “What brings you here on a Friday night?”

“Um,” he muttered. “I was just in the neighborhood.”

Now it was your turn to raise a brow, but at least you knew exactly why he was in here. You walked around the register to get to him so you could get a good look at his face. From farther away, you could see that his skin was so light that it almost glowing in such a dark place like this. When you came face to face with your new, blushing friend, you were happy to say you weren’t disappointed.

He was incredibly cute.

And he thought you weren’t so bad yourself.

“Let me guess,” you started, hands placed at an accusing position on your hips. “It’s an off-day for you today - specifically speaking, either someone you once love has recently left your life or you dropped your cup of coffee this morning.”

“Those two are a bit extreme, aren’t they?”

“A bit, but was I right?”

“... Yeah…”

“The Fortune Teller sign isn’t on the window for nothing,” you teased. “I won’t ask which one I was right about, but what is someone like you looking for in a place like this?”

“Someone like me?” he asked. Was he dressed funny, or something? “What does that mean?”

“Someone so… normal,” you chuckled. “Almost all of my customers dress kind of weird or in all black and take a million pictures for their aesthetic blog.”

“Shouldn’t you know why I’m here? I mean, the sign isn’t on the window for nothing, right?”

“Divination doesn’t really work that way, my friend.”

“To tell you the truth, I just kind of... stumbled in here.”

You watched the cute boy carefully walk around store with big, curious eyes. He didn’t seem to be as interested in your books as much as he was interested in the shiny stones and crystals that scattered around your shelves, but so were a lot of your customers. You guessed that he was a little lost. No one ever just stumbles upon a place like this, and if they did, there was always some underlying reason. Maybe he came to you for some answers - maybe a sense of clarity.

The one book he picked up answered your question. ‘A Beginner’s Guide to Astrology — Love and Compatibility’

“Are you into astrology?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t know much about it other than the fact I’m a Sagittarius.”

“Oh, yikes…” you hissed.

“What? Is that bad?”

“I mean, you’re not as cool as a Virgo, but so long as you aren’t a Scorpio.”

“I don’t know what that means…”

You sighed dramatically and walked over to your circular show table. With the tilt of your head, you ushered the cute boy to follow you, who didn’t even hesitate. He smirked a bit as you moved the huge crystal ball from the center of the table.

“You don’t need that to tell me my future?”

“It’s all Hollywood mumbo-jumbo, totally fake prop stuff just for show. Now,” you paused, holding out your bejewelled hand. “Gimme your hand.”

“H-Huh?” he stuttered. He was too distracted by your stereotypically blinged-out hand to believe what you just said. You wanted to hold his hand…?

“I’m going to read your palm. It’s one of the first things I do before I tell customers about their sign. Now give me your dominant hand.”

Jihoon hesitantly held his hand out to you, palm-side up. Taking his hand in yours, you held it up to your face to closely inspect his lines. His hand was cold and trembling, despite being in your warm and cozy store for a bit now. The feeling of your fingers grazing his palm tickled.

“Heads up, I don’t really believe in this kind of stuff,” he told you.

“A lot of people don’t until they walk out of here after a reading. I’ll just have to convince you.”

“I’m not easily convinced.”

“We’ll see about that,” you challenged. “First thing’s first, what is your name, wanderer?”

“Jihoon.”

“And when is your birthday?”

“November twenty-second.”

“Jeez, a day earlier and you really would have been a Scorpio.”

“Sure…”

“And what is your favorite food?”

“You need to know that for palm reading?”

“Nah, I’m just curious,” you smiled.

“Black bean noodles.”

“Oh, yum! Mine, too!” you grinned. “Ok, are you ready to hear from an amateur like me tell you all about yourself just from looking at your palm?”

“I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Probably not.” You began anyways, massaging your thumbs gently into his soft hands. You hit his pressure points on the dot, sending tingling sparks up his arm. “Your hands are so pretty for a boys.”

“Yeah, I get that all the time,” he said sarcastically.

“Your fingers are long and slender, too. I’d say you have an Air hand.”

“A what?”

“An Air hand. It means you’re a curious intellectual. But it also means you worry a lot and like to keep things to yourself.”

“There’s no way you could know all that just from the shape of my hand...”

“Was any of that wrong?”

“Well -” Jihoon paused, realizing that you indeed were right about him being someone who liked to keep things to himself. You wouldn’t be the first girl who told him that… “Ok, but you could say that to about half the people in the world.”

“Fine, let’s move on to your lines then. This,” you said, pointing to the curved line, “is your lifeline. It’s very faint compared to the other two… Do you get stressed out easily?”

“I’m stressing out as we speak,” he mumbled.

“And it’s incredibly straight. That means you take caution in your relationships.”

“Did you read my ex-girlfriend’s diary, or something?” he commented sourly.

“Ah, so you are having relationship troubles.”

“I can’t have relationship troubles if I don’t have a relationship.”

“Relationship doesn’t necessarily mean between you and a significant other. It could mean between you and your friends, family, or with your new fortune-telling pseudo-therapist.”

“That last one I’m especially cautious about.”

“Naturally. Mm, ok, this middle one is your headline. It reaches your ring finger, which is quite common. It just means you’re smart, nothing exciting. Moving on! This very last one is my favorite.”

“Is it the loveline, or something?” he joked.

“Close. It’s called the heartline. Yours is a bit shorter than others I’ve seen and starts in the middle. Do you fall in love easily?”

“That one I can tell you you’re wrong about.”

“What, you’ve never fallen in love with a stranger who just passed you by? Or even the cute corner shop owner?”

“Very funny. Have you?”

“No, but I often fall for cute boys who walk into my shop.”

Jihoon cleared his throat, trying his hardest not to blush from embarrassment. You really knew how to welcome your customers... “Do you always flirt like this with your customers?”

“Only the cute ones,” you joked. “So back on topic, tell me why I’m wrong about your heartline?”

“I have this girlfriend - had this girlfriend - who I dated for about six months. It’s not a long time, but it wasn’t a short time, either, but apparently long enough for her to tell me she loves me.”

“And you didn’t say it back?”

“Of course not! How could I!? Six months of dating, isn’t that a little soon to be saying that?”

“Love doesn’t have a time limit, Jihoon. Maybe she just wasn’t the one. Maybe you’ll fall in love easily when you meet the right one.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“What’s your ex’s sign?”

“She’s a Capricorn.”

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry...”

“What, why?”

“You two are polar opposites and totally incompatible! I’m surprised you two lasted that long. Sagittarians and Capricorns need to stay away from each other as much as possible.”

“What do you know…” he muttered cutely.

“Do you want to know more about your sign or not?”

“... Who else should I stay away from?”

For the first time in the last fifteen minutes, you let go out of hand that had warmed up in yours to grab one of the books off of your shelf. Jihoon watched you climb one of the old, raggedy and probably dangerous ladders up to the very top to grab a dusty blue book that read ‘A Book for Sagittarians’ in scripted font.

“The first sentence in chapter three clearly says ‘to stay away from Taurus, Capricorns, and most definitely Virgos — you two are like mixing oil and water’,” you said after settling back down in your seat.

“What else does that book say?”

“See for yourself.” You handed him the ancient piece of literature.

“Oh, ok. How much is it?”

“Don’t worry about it. My horoscope said I should do a good deed today and I figured this fulfilled that. Normally, I would have charged it some overpriced amount, but I figured someone like you could find use of it much more than some hipster Sagittarian.”

“I can’t just take this from you. You read my palm and everything.”

“How about you repay me by stopping in again?” you proposed. “It gets a little lonely in here.”

With a small, cute smile, and with no hesitation, Jihoon nodded and said, “I’ll come back soon.”

“I’ll be expecting you to tell me all about yourself after reading the book when I see you.”

You walked your customer to the door so you could finally lock up for the night. You didn’t realize until now that it was over thirty minutes after closing time, but you were so caught up and enthralled with the wanderer that you had completely forgotten.

Leave it to you to make exceptions for cute boys.

“Wait, what’s your sign?” he asked before stepping out the door.

“I’m a Virgo,” you smirked. “So you better be cautious around me.”

With a dangerous smile like yours, Jihoon would make sure he would.

[dumbledearme]

chapter thirty-five—return to the sea

read Child of Land and Sea here

Act IV — To Stop The Tide

Part X — Your hocus-pocus isn't tough enough and your mumbo-jumbo doesn't measure up.

The room was small, but Andy sat as far away from the others as humanly possible. The gladiator fight had somewhat broken her spirit. Usually, she didn't feel bad about killing monsters, but just the thought that it was for entertainment, that people were amused, it made her feel sick.

Anthony didn't try to comfort her. He seemed thankful she didn't want to be close to him which saddened her even more. He kept his mind on Luke. "Something was wrong with him," he kept saying. "He was acting so strange."

"He looked pretty pleased to me," she answered. "It was a nice day torturing heroes."

"No. There was something wrong with him. He looked... scared. I know him. He wanted to tell me something."

"Probably wanted to invite you to stay and watch him kill me. He has a great sense of humor."

"Whatever, Andy," he said and looked at Rachel. "Which way now?"

Rachel didn't respond right away; she'd become quieter since the arena. "We'll follow the path," she said. "The brightness on the floor."

"You mean the brightness that led us straight into a trap?" Anthony asked.

"Just leave her alone, Anthony," Andy told him. "She's doing the best she can."

"Right," he said getting up. "Since you girls don't seem to need me, I'll take a walk." And he marched off into the shadows.

Andy rolled her eyes. "Something is wrong," she said, "but with him! Like this place isn't horrible enough. I don't know how much longer I can take."

"I think he's afraid," Rachel declared.

"Afraid of what?"

"You're gonna think I'm crazy," she said softly, "but I think he's afraid of you."

Andy blinked. "Of me? Why would he be afraid of me?"

Rachel shrugged like she thought that was something Andy should find out by herself. "You were right to bring me here," she said. "I can see the path. I can't explain it, but it's really clear." She pointed toward the other end of the room, into the darkness. "The workshop is that way. The heart of the maze. We're very close now. I don't know why the path led through that arena. I... I'm sorry you had to do that. I saw your face when... I thought you were going to die."

"I'm usually about to die," Andy told her. "That wasn't the bad part."

Rachel studied her face. "Do you do this all the time? Fight monsters? Save the world? Don't you ever get to do normal stuff?"

"I don't even know what normal is anymore," Andy admitted. And then something occurred to her. "Hey. How about your family? Won't they be concerned?"

Rachel's face turned bright red. "Oh... they're just... Not likely, you know? I could be gone a week and they'd never notice. I'm really tired, Andy. I'll sleep for a while, okay?" And she curled up, using her backpack as pillow.

A few minutes later, Anthony returned. "I'll take first watch," he said. "You should sleep."

Without arguing, Andy lay down, feeling miserable.

She woke up with Anthony shaking her shoulder. "Andy, wake up! Earthquake!" Sure enough, the room was rumbling. The three of them grabbed their things and ran. Hundred tons of marble was crashing down behind them, but they kept moving. The earthquake only stopped when they reached a stainless steel hallway.

"This way," Rachel said, beginning to run. "We're close!" They arrived at a set of metal double doors. Inscribed in the steel, at eye level, was a large blue Greek delta. "We're here," Rachel announced. "Daedalus's workshop."

Anthony pressed the symbol and the doors hissed open. Together, they walked inside. What shocked Andy the most was the daylight – the blazing sun coming through giant windows. The workshop was like an artist's studio.

"Di immortales," Anthony muttered. He ran to the nearest easel and looked at the sketch. "He's a genius. Look at the curves on this building!"

"And an artist," Rachel said in amazement. "These wings are amazing!"

The wings looked exactly like the ones Andy had seen in her dreams, so much so that Andy couldn't bare to look at them. She walked to the window and stared at the view. "Where are we?"

"Colorado Springs," a voice said behind them. "The Garden of the Gods." Standing on the spiral staircase above them, with his weapon drawn, was Quintus.

"You!" Anthony said. "What... Where is Daedalus?"

Quintus smiled faintly. "Trust me, boy. You don't want to meet him." He walked pass them and stood beside Andy by the window. "The view always changes," he told her. "Everyday is something new."

"It's an illusion?" she asked.

"No," Rachel answered for him. "It's real. We're really in Colorado."

Quintus regarded her. "You have clear vision. I knew a girl like you once. Another princess who came to grief."

"Oh my gods," Andy breathed out. Now that he was so close, she could see clearly too. "You're Daedalus," she accused. "I've seen... You're an automaton. You made yourself a new body."

"That's not possible," Anthony whispered.

Quintus glanced at him. "You know what Quintus means?"

"The fifth, in Latin."

"Yes. My fifth body."

"You found a way to transfer your animus into a machine?" Anthony asked. He sounded extremely disgusted. "That's not natural."

"It's still me," Daedalus said. "Our mother makes sure I never forget that." He tugged back the collar of his shirt. At the base of his neck was the mark Andy had seen before.

"A murderer's brand," Anthony said.

"For your nephew, Perdix," Andy guessed. "The boy you pushed off the tower."

Daedalus's face darkened. "I did not push him. I-"

"Let him die."

Daedalus gazed out the windows. "I regret what I did, Andy. I was angry and bitter. But I cannot take it back, and Athena never lets me forget. As Perdix died, she turned him into a small bird – a partridge. She branded the bird's shape on my neck as a reminder. No matter what body I take, the brand remains."

"Why did you come to camp?" Andy asked.

"To see if your camp was worth saving. Luke gave me one story. I preferred to come to my own conclusions."

"So you have talked to Luke."

"Several times. He is quite persuasive."

"Well, whatever he said, he lied," Anthony said to Andy's surprise. "You can't let Luke through the maze!"

"The maze is no longer mine to control. I created it, yes. In fact, it is tied to my life force. But I have allowed it to live and grow on its own. That is the price I paid for privacy."

"Privacy from what?"

"The gods," he said. "And death. I have been alive for two millennia, hiding from death."

"How can you hide from Hades?" Andy asked.

"A clever man can do almost anything. The gods don't see everything. I have buried myself very deep. Only my greatest enemy has kept after me, and even him I have thwarted."

"Minos?"

Daedalus nodded. "He hunts for me relentlessly. Now that he is a judge of the dead, he would like nothing better for me to come before him so he can punish me for my crimes. After the daughters of Cocalus killed him, Minos' ghost began torturing me in my dreams. He promised that he would hunt me down. I did the only thing I could. I retreated from the world completely. I descended into my Labyrinth. I decided this would be my ultimate accomplishment: I would cheat death."

"And you did," Anthony marveled, "for two thousand years."

A loud bark echoed and Mrs O'Leary appeared. "There she is," Daedalus said. "My only companion all these long lonely years."

"You let her save me," Andy said.

"Of course I did, Andy," he replied. "You have a good heart. And I knew Mrs O'Leary liked you. I wanted to help you. I felt guilty..."

"Guilty about what?"

"That your quest would be in vain."

"What?" Anthony said. "But you can still help us. You have to! Give us Ariadne's string so Luke can't get it."

"I told Luke that he needed the eyes of a mortal girl, but then again, who would love him enough to come down here? He was so focused on the idea of a magical item. He can't understand that love is the best guide, that love sees all. And, of course, the string works. Though it isn't as good as your mortal friend here."

"Where is it?" Anthony asked.

"With Luke," Daedalus said sadly. "I'm sorry. You are several hours too late."

With a chill, Andy realized why Luke had been in such a good mood. Anthony's face was turning a bright shade of green. He seemed about to puke.

"Kronos promised me freedom," Daedalus said. "Once Hades is overthrown, he will set me over the Underworld. I will reclaim my son Icarus. I will make things right with poor young Perdix. I will see Minos's soul cast into Tartarus, where it cannot bother me again. And I will no longer have to run from death."

"That's your brilliant idea?" Anthony growled. "You're going to let Luke destroy our camp, kill hundreds of demigods, and then attack Olympus? You're going to bring down the entire world so you can get what you want?"

"Your cause is doomed. I saw that as soon as I began to work at your camp. There is no way you can hold back the might of Kronos. I'm doing what I must. I'm sorry."

Anthony violently pushed over an easel. Architectural drawings scattered across the floor. "I respected you. You were my hero! You... You built amazing things. You solved problems. Children of Athena are supposed to be wise, not just clever. Maybe you are just a machine. You should have died two thousand years ago." Although he was clearly on the edge, he didn't raise his voice once. Andy was impressed by his self-control.

Daedalus looked down. "You should go warn your camp."

Suddenly, the doors of the workshop burst open and Nico was pushed inside. Then Kelli and two Laistrygonians marched in behind him, followed by the ghost of Minos. He fixed his gaze on Daedalus. "There you are, my old friend."

Daedalus's jaw clenched. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Luke sent his regards," Kelli said, repeating what one of the princesses had said before killing Minos. "He thought you might like to see your old employer."

"This was not part of our agreement," Daedalus said.

"No, indeed," Kelli agreed. "But we already have what we want from you, and we have other agreements to honor. Minos required something else from us, in order to turn over this fine young demigod. He'll be quite useful. And all Minos asked in return was your head, old man."

Daedalus paled. "Treachery."

"Nico," Andy called. "Are you okay?"

He nodded morosely. "I'm sorry. Minos said you were in danger. He said you needed... my help."

"You wanted to help me?"

"I was tricked," he said.

Andy glared at Kelli. "Where's Luke? Why isn't he here?"

The she-demon smiled. "Luke is busy. He is preparing for the assault. But don't you worry. We have more friends on the way."

Then all hell broke loose.

Anthony stabbed the empousa in the stomach and with an awful screech, Kelli dissolved into yellow vapor. Minos called other spirits and Nico tried to stop him.

"You do not control me, fool," Minos said. "I've been controlling you!"

"I am the son of Hades," Nico insisted. "Be gone! All of you."

Minos laughed. "You have no power over me. I am the lord of spirits! The ghost king!"

"No." Nico said, this time very softly, in such a threateningly way that Minos stepped away from him. "I am." And with unimaginable power, he somehow made a crack on the ground and Minos and the other spirits were sucked into the void.

Rachel grabbed the nearest chair and threw it at the windows that broke into a million pieces all around them. Andy breathed in. She focused on the water below.

"Brace yourselves!" she warned. And then she shouted, letting her power take over. Not a minute later, water erupted into the workshop. Andy tried her best to control it. She made the water grab her friends and get them out of there, returning to the sea. She stayed behind and trapped the monsters into balls of water and pressed them until they exploded.

Then everything stopped. Andy was in the destroyed workshop with Daedalus coughing in the corner. She glanced at him one last time. The inventor was cut in a hundred places and bleeding golden oil instead of blood.

Andy turned her back at him and threw herself out of the window into the ocean.

They were all wet and extremely upset.

"The workshop moved," Anthony said looking up to Daedalus's hill. "And there's no telling where."

"How do we get back in there?" Andy asked.

"Maybe we can't. The empousa said there were others coming. If they found Daedalus and killed him... he said his life force was tied to the Labyrinth. The whole thing might've been destroyed."

"He isn't dead," Nico said with certainty.

"How do you know?" Andy asked.

"I know when people die," he said giving her a glance that made clear he hadn't completely forgiven her yet.

"We need to get into town," Anthony decided and the others agreed.

Rachel found another entrance to the Labyrinth easily. The dirt tunnels turned to stone, but Rachel had no trouble guiding them. To Andy's surprise, Anthony and Rachel started up a conversation as they walked. Turned out Rachel knew something about architecture from studying art.

Andy took the chance to focus on Nico. "Thank you for coming after us," she said.

Nico's eyes narrowed. "I wanted to see Daedalus," he said but it sounded more like an excuse. "Minos was right. He should die. Nobody should be able to avoid death that long. It's not natural."

"You were after him," Andy guessed. "A soul for a soul. You were gonna trade him for your sister."

"It hasn't been easy," he admitted weakly. "Having only the dead for company. Knowing that I'll never be accepted by the living. Only the dead respect me, and they only do that out of fear."

"You could be accepted," Andy told him. "You could have friends at camp. If you want."

He stared at her. "Do you really believe that?"

Before Andy could answer, everybody stopped. There was a dark tunnel to their right. Wind was coming, as if an exit was near, and it brought the smell of eucalyptus.

"There's something evil down that tunnel," Rachel said.

"And the smell of death," Nico added.

"Luke's entrance," Anthony guessed. "The one to Mount Othrys." Unable to stop herself, Andy started forward, but Anthony held her arm. "Don't."

"He could be right there," she said. "Or Kronos. We need to see what they're doing."

Anthony hesitated. "Then we go together."

"No," Andy said. "I'll go. You guys stay. They can't have Nico or Rachel. You stay here with them. I'm just going to check it out. I promise."

With a miserable expression, Anthony handed her the Yankees cap. "Be quick about it."

It was like a stab to her back seeing Ethan Nakamura there with a bunch of telkhine. "At least we salvaged the blade," one of the monsters said. "The master will still reward us."

"Great," said Ethan. "Now, if you're done with me, I-"

"No, half-blood," another one said. "You must help us make the presentation."

The weapon was a scythe – a six-foot-long blade curved like a crescent moon. It was the weapon of Kronos, the one he had used to slice up his father, Ouranos.

"We must sanctify it in blood," a telkhine said. "Then you, half-blood, shall help present it when the lord awakes."

Andy dashed into a main hall and found the sarcophagus. Luke wasn't there. No guards. No nothing. It was too easy. Andy stood over the coffin. Her hand touched the lid. With a single move, she pushed back the golden lid and it fell to the floor. She lifted her sword, ready to strike, but when she looked inside, she didn't comprehend what she was seeing.

Luke was in there. Eyes closed, skin pale.

Then the voices of the telkhines were behind her. "What has happened?" one of the demons asked.

"Careful," the other one warned. "Perhaps he stirs. We must present the gifts now. Immediately."

They shuffled forward and knelt, holding up the scythe. "My lord," one said. "Your symbol of power is remade."

Silence.

"He requires the half-blood first," the other one said.

Ethan stepped back. "What do you mean?"

"Don't be a coward! He does not require your death. Only your allegiance. Pledge him your service. Renounce the gods. That is all."

Andy took off the cap. "No! Ethan, don't!"

"Trespasser!" The telkhines bared their teeth.

"Ethan," she pleaded. "Don't listen to them. Help me destroy it!"

"I told you not to spare me, Jackson," Ethan said sadly. "'An eye for an eye.' You ever heard that saying? I've learned what it means the hard way. When I discovered my godly parent. I am the child of Nemesis, Goddess of Revenge. And this is what I was made to do." He turned toward the dais. "I renounce the gods! What have they ever done for me? I will see them destroyed. I will serve Kronos."

The building rumbled. The coffin began to shimmer. Luke sat bolt upright. His eyes opened but they were no longer blue – they were golden. He leaped out of the coffin and looked at Andy. "This body has been well prepared. Don't you think so, Andy Jackson?"

She stared at him open-mouthed.

Kronos laughed. "He feared you, you know," the Titan said. "His jealousy and hatred have been powerful tools. It has kept him obedient. For that I thank you."

Ethan collapsed in terror. The telkhines trembled. Then Andy lunged at the thing that used to be Luke, thrusting her blade straight at his chest, but his skin deflected the blow like he was made of pure steel. He looked at her with amusement. Then he flicked his hand and she flew across the room.

Andy slammed against a pillar. She struggled to her feet. "What have you done to Luke?"

"He serves me wit his whole being, as I require. The difference between us is he feared you, Andy Jackson, and I do not."

That's when she ran. Time slowed down around her; the power of Kronos was slowing her down. Then Rachel called her name. Something flew past Andy and a blue plastic hairbrush hit Kronos in the eye.

Andy limbs were free and she ran straight into Rachel, Nico and Anthony, who were standing in the entry hall, their eyes wide with dismay.

"Luke?" Anthony called. "What-" Andy grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him after her. She ran as fast as she could, straight out of the fortress. They plunged into the Labyrinth and kept running, the howl of the Titan Lord shaking the entire world behind them.

[ladylynse]

Here’s Part II of that Danny Phantom Lancer reveal fic request based off the being watched prompt! (I’d never anticipated writing a second part to it, but you voted for that, so here you go. *grins* Please take the science with a grain of salt; I’m better with biology.) Again, most of it is under the cut.

This fic can now be found on FF and the AO3 as Hobson’s Choice, title courtesy of @fantasticwhovian.

“It would seem,” Lancer finished, “that Danny Phantom was trying to protect your family as much as he tries to protect everyone else in this town.”

Jack and Maddie Fenton exchanged glances from their place on their couch; Jazz sat beside them, while Lancer and Danny had taken the free chairs. That Mr. and Mrs. Fenton were reluctant to believe Phantom would help them was obvious; it had been all Jasmine could do to stop them from immediately activating their Fenton Anti-Creep Alarm. But his insistence on the subject seemed to be puzzling them, and Danny had chimed in often to make good use of Lancer’s support for Phantom—even if he managed to appear reluctant whenever he did so.

Really, Lancer had always found young Mr. Fenton’s excuses rather pitiful, but these were inventive without being obviously contrived. I think Skulker was targeting me because you’re my parents. Not the most comforting point, but a valid one. Perfectly believable, given the situation; Jack and Maddie Fenton surely made enemies of the ghosts they hunted. He’s the Ghost Zone’s Greatest Hunter; of course he’d pit himself against you. A self-proclaimed point, but not one Lancer could dispute, given what he knew of the ghost. This is a weakness. The only thing that stopped him from exploiting it was Phantom. Another point that couldn’t be disputed, particularly given that it was true in more ways than one. I’m lucky it wasn’t worse.

“Phantom saved me,” Danny repeated quietly. “I know you don’t trust him, but he’s the reason I’m not lost somewhere in the Ghost Zone right now.”

Maddie closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose in thought. “Ghosts always try to do this, Danny,” she explained. “They want you to see them in the best light possible so they can exploit your trust later. Phantom and Skulker may have been working together in this.” She looked at her son then, adding, “I know how much you two look up to Phantom, but you can’t trust him. That might be the last mistake you make.” Her gaze suddenly switched back to him. “Surely you aren’t falling for his ploy, Mr. Lancer.”

“I am inclined to agree with your children in this instance, given what I witnessed.”

“That’s only playing into the ghost’s agenda,” Maddie pointed out. “Ghosts are masters of trickery. Phantom is hardly different.”

“I did work with him once, Mads.” It was a feat for Jack Fenton to look uncomfortable, especially when the subject was ghosts, but he managed a close approximation. “I told you about that. Plasmius threatened my family, and no one threatens my family.”

“One good deed does not undo the past.”

“But one bad mistake ruins everything else?” Jazz exclaimed. “That’s a double standard, Mom, and you know it! You can’t treat ghosts differently than people.”

“They aren’t human, Jazz,” Maddie said in the tone of one who had had this argument all too often before.

“No, but they were once.” Jazz bit her lip, glanced at Danny so quickly that Lancer nearly missed it, and amended, “Most of them, anyway. Phantom is.”

He was beginning to get a better appreciation of exactly how much Jazz did for her little brother.

Danny had had enough time to get cleaned up. He didn’t look good now, not by any stretch of the imagination. He had stayed as Phantom for as long as possible; Lancer had gotten a brief explanation from Jazz he’d only partially understood about accelerated healing due to the regenerative effects of residual ectoplasm, but he could appreciate the results. While Danny was still clearly exhausted and his wounds were still present, he no longer appeared in dire need of stitches, he was in no danger of bleeding through the gauze, and some of the tiny cuts and scratches that had marred him earlier were gone. Lancer was already unsure if he had imagined the bruises.

Lancer had never thought too much about Phantom’s resilience before, but it certainly made sense.

It also explained why there never seemed to be any evidence of Mr. Baxter’s abuse of his classmate. Lancer had turned a blind eye to that for too long, but without Danny so much as going to his parents with a complaint, let alone anything official made to the school…. It became difficult to persuade the school board that Casper High should remain open if it wasn’t bringing in any money from football games, and Dash was the star of the team. Kwan was very good, but he couldn’t carry the team by himself, and Casper High sustained too much damage to rely solely on handouts from the school board.

They’d exceeded their repair budget the first week the ghost attacks had begun, and things had only gotten worse.

But money should never have been a reason to ignore a child’s abuse, and Dash’s bullying of Danny was nothing less than that. What good was Casper High as a school if its students weren’t safe within its halls?

Well, as safe as they could be, given the ghost attacks.

It was rather surprising they hadn’t been shut down anyway. Elmerton didn’t see nearly as many attacks.

Granted, no ghost attended their school, but despite the attacks, Amity Park’s reputation for educational quality remained a shade better than that of their bitter rival.

Lancer only hoped it still would once things changed.

“As I see it, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton—”

Maddie held up one hand. “No, Mr. Lancer, I’m sorry. You’ve made your opinion very clear, but I’m afraid I don’t share it, and like Jack, I’m not willing to compromise our children’s safety. Phantom might have saved you this time, Danny, but it’s all too likely that he simply has a plan in mind for later. Go fetch a Spectre Deflector. I expect you to wear it until further notice.”

“Mom!” The exclamation came from Jazz; Danny’s expression was frozen in horror, and Lancer doubted it was all for show. “You can’t make Danny wear that!”

“As soon as I check over the other ones, we’ll all be wearing them,” Maddie said, her voice making it clear she wouldn’t stand for argument. “I’ve half a mind to distribute them free to the entire town, but I’m afraid we can’t afford that right now. If we could shut down the Fenton Ghost Portal without repercussions—”

“Wait, shut down the Portal?” Danny’s horror had melted into puzzlement. “We can do that?”

This was news to Lancer as well. For all the Fenton Ghost Information sessions he’d attended—and that was many, despite the dismal attendance of the FGIs these days—the Fentons had never mentioned the possibility of shutting down their portal and cutting the ghosts off from what was surely their main entry point. Lancer knew the portal was shuttered, but he’d always had doubts about it staying closed, and the revelation of Phantom’s identity hardly inspired confidence.

“Not easily, Danny-boy. Not without a lot of bad mumbo jumbo that your mom’s been telling me about.”

Lancer saw Danny swallow, look at his sister, ignore the worry that was clear in her expression, and make a choice. Carefully, the boy asked, “Is it because the Ghost Zone is connected with our world?”

Maddie’s eyes widened. “You know about that?”

Danny shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve picked up some stuff here and there,” he said vaguely.

“Phantom told us,” Jazz added, and Danny glared at her. “I was doing some research on ghosts and ghost envy, and he agreed to answer a few questions.”

“Jazz—”

“Don’t start, Mom. If Phantom really wanted to hurt us, he would have done it by now.”

“Our previous encounters with Phantom do lend credence to Jasmine’s theory,” Lancer put in. He was trying to be helpful. If Jack and Maddie would at least agree that Phantom wasn’t solely a menace, it would make the eventual conversation easier on Danny. And that conversation would happen. Despite Danny’s worries, Lancer planned to encourage him to have it.

But because of Danny’s worries, Lancer also planned to have a contingency plan in place. He didn’t fear that Jack and Maddie wouldn’t accept the truth about their son; he feared they might think it a terrible hoax of Phantom’s at first, and he feared the psychological toll on the entire family once the truth became undeniable. Jazz’s concerns that they weren’t currently mentally prepared for the truth were hardly unfounded, after all. Still, at the very least, he would offer Danny a place to stay for the duration if it came to that. He would just rather make plans to ensure it didn’t.

Truth was, though, Lancer wasn’t sure his plans would make a whit of difference. He didn’t really know the Fentons well enough to know how they’d react, and even imagining himself in their situation was difficult. There would be horror, guilt, disgust, denial—angry, defensive denial and tearful, insistent denial—and maybe blank numbness, but in what order? Where would the acceptance finally fall? Initially, before the horror set in, or after, once it had begun working its way through and the need for forgiveness that may never come became overwhelming?

Yes, he could certainly understand why Danny had not told his parents.

But keeping the secret for long would only serve to make the situation worse.

Lancer was supposed to be a responsible adult. However much Jazz fancied herself grown up and fully matured, she wasn’t. He was. Which meant he needed to do the responsible thing, and covering for a secret like this…. That wasn’t it. Not in the long term. Not even for very long in the short term.

He needed to do whatever he could to change the Fentons’ view of Phantom, but he feared they might not unless they were presented with undeniable proof of Phantom’s humanity.

The same proof that could tear them apart.

“You did say Phantom helped you before, Dad, and not just when the entire town was under attack.” Danny’s voice was tentative again, but Lancer was beginning to figure out which emotions were part of his mask. Danny was clearly referring to an incident he knew all about but was pretending he didn’t, so his uncertainty couldn’t be genuine—unless it was merely there because he was unsure of what reaction he’d receive. “What if he wasn’t just helping you out to get his freedom? What if he really was helping because it was the right thing to do?”

“I never said anything about giving him his freedom, Danny-boy.”

Lancer saw the flash of panic this time, could recognize the falsity of the smile Danny plastered on his face. “But you would’ve captured him if he’d been close enough to help you like that,” reasoned Danny. “Besides, wasn’t that the time with the Fenton Weasel? You told us about that, too, not just Mom.”

This time, it was Jack’s turn to look uncertain, and Jazz stepped right in to back up her little brother. They had been at this for a while. “Oh, right, that time. I lectured you for weeks about capturing him in the first place, but as usual you didn’t listen to me.”

“And,” Danny continued before either of his parents could open their mouths, “if he can be trusted with that, maybe he can be trusted with something like this. As a trial. I’ll even carry ghost hunting weapons with me at all times, I swear. Maybe he can even help you guys figure out the Portal. Why exactly can’t you just close it, again? Phantom never exactly mentioned there being any repercussions of that.”

“Danny, we are not having this conversation now. Go get the Spectre Deflector.”

Danny still didn’t move, instead belligerently crossing his arms. “Mom, seriously. It’s connected with our world. I get that. But why can’t we shut it down? What would happen?”

“Danny.”

“But it would stop all the ghosts! We wouldn’t need to worry about them. Phantom might not even need to be around all the time if he doesn’t have to fight any of them.”

“Listen to your mother, Danny-boy.”

“Just answer my question!”

“I confess I would also be interested in the answer,” Lancer interjected mildly.

Maddie’s lips thinned, but she evidently decided that she and Jack were suitable protection for Danny in the meantime and didn’t wish to have a fight in front of a guest. After a pointed look from her, Jack coughed and flashed Lancer a brilliant smile. “As much as I love talking about ghosts, weren’t you here to discuss Danny?”

“You can go, Jazz,” Maddie added quietly.

“Mom!”

“No, she can stay.” Danny’s hurried assurance was no doubt born out of fear of losing an ally, lest he find himself in need of one. Lancer couldn’t blame him; he wasn’t sure he would be able to help the boy if it came down to it. “She’s…probably gonna end up helping me with my homework and stuff anyway. Maybe scheduling? A schedule might help….”

Lancer cleared his throat. “That is certainly an admirable idea, Mr. Fenton, if you can stick to it.” Looking at Jack and Maddie, he clarified, “I’m afraid Danny’s record hasn’t improved since our last discussion.” I’m sorry, he wanted to say to his young student, but he couldn’t suddenly appear unconcerned about the matter. It was still an issue, even if he now knew the truth, and he had pressed for this meeting.

“We’ve offered to check his homework,” Maddie said, glancing at her son, “but....”

Say something, Danny. It was the perfect opportunity for him to pipe up with an excuse, believable or not, but he remained silent.

“I’m afraid restricting his gaming time hasn’t been effective, if you’ve seen no change,” Maddie continued apologetically. “We’ve been hesitant to cut him off from Sam and Tucker. I’m sure they help him, and you know how teenagers are, Mr. Lancer. They never seem to want to come to their parents for help. I mentioned grounding Danny for two weeks once, on a trial basis, but Jack talked me out of it.” She turned a small, somewhat apologetic smile in Danny’s direction when she noticed his expression; clearly, his parents had never come close to instigating this particular punishment for any considerable length of time. “He reminded me that sometimes kids need an escape, and the real issue here might not be Danny’s inability to apply himself but an inability to focus or an uncertainty about how to tackle a deeper issue.”

Jazz, surprisingly, looked as if something suddenly made a lot more sense. “That’s why you and Dad haven’t been talking quite as much about your inventions, isn’t it? Because you’ve been trying to give Danny space and give him the opportunity to open up to you and not have the conversation taken over by ghosts.”

Maddie leaned over to touch Danny’s arm, though she withdrew her hand when Danny flinched away. “You never seem to want to talk to us anymore, honey.”

“I’m a teenager, Mom. You just finished saying we don’t talk to our parents.”

“Sweetie, please don’t twist my words like that. I know Sam doesn’t have a good relationship with her parents, but I know Tucker gets along well with his. We’d like you to know that we are here for you if you’ll only come to us. The problems we solve don’t have to be related to ghosts to be important.”

Lancer could see the defensive line in Danny’s posture, and he knew—he knew—how this was going to go if he let it play out. So he didn’t. “If I may,” he interrupted, “perhaps the problem is tied to ghosts after all?”

“What?” Danny’s yelp of shock was nothing compared to the betrayal on his face or the thunderous anger beneath it. For the briefest of moments, his eyes seemed to burn green, and he spat, “You don’t know anything, Mr. Lancer.”

No, he suspected he didn’t.

Not compared the whole truth or the little Jazz knew of it, at least. But he knew enough for this. “Forgive me, Danny, but am I wrong in thinking that you and Jasmine do not share your parents’ views on Phantom?”

“What does Phantom have anything to do with this?” Jazz shrilled. She looked no less betrayed than Danny, but fear played on her face more than Danny’s. Danny had not forgiven him for this apparent betrayal; Jazz was already thinking ahead to what it might mean. She couldn’t see where he was going with this.

“I’m not,” Lancer concluded when neither child answered him. “Could it be, then, that in defiance of your parents, and perhaps out of loyalty to one you think of as a friend, you help Phantom?”

He saw the comprehension dawn in Danny’s eyes, saw Jazz’s shoulders sag as she released her breath. They weren’t in the clear, but this was a better route than the one they’d first feared.

“It would, after all, explain the ghost’s motivations.” He looked at the Fenton parents now. “Rather than trickery, Phantom might simply be acting to protect his friends. Or assets, if you do not currently believe him capable of friendship.” It was a perfectly logical explanation, one he had found himself believing—and may have continued believing, had he not stayed to overhear more of the conversation or if the pieces had not been so carefully laid out in front of him. “If your children have formed an alliance with Phantom, they are hardly in danger from him.”

Surprisingly, Jack was the one to break the silence that had begun to stretch. “Is this true?”

Neither child made eye contact with any of the adults.

“You’re working with Phantom?” Maddie clearly had no trouble believing that conclusion, either. “Both of you? How long has this been going on?”

“I’ve been doing it for long enough,” Jazz finally whispered, “that I believe him more than I believe what you’ve been telling me about him. Scientists have to have open minds, and you two have a big blind spot when it comes to him.” Her voice had been getting stronger, gaining in confidence as she spoke. “He doesn’t have an end game, some nefarious ulterior motive. He’s good. A good soul. Death didn’t twist that, whatever you two think. Did you ever think that that’s why he’s so powerful? Because his goodness is so pure that it not only survived his death but has sustained him in the afterlife to the point that he doesn’t need to frequent the Ghost Zone as often as the other ghosts? That he’s been getting stronger because his good deeds are what strengthen him?”

Maddie sighed. “You agree with your sister, don’t you, Danny?”

“Phantom might’ve messed up before,” Danny mumbled, “but he doesn’t want to be evil.”

“But for all of your help, for all that he told you about the Ghost Zone mirroring our world, for all that he seems to have been treating the symptoms rather than the disease— You yourself said that Phantom never mentioned what would happen if we shut down the Ghost Portal. Why do you think that is?”

“Because he didn’t know?” Danny offered, finally looking at his mother.

“No,” Jack said, “it would be because he didn’t want to die again. Jazzy-pants, you know ghosts are sustained by the concentrated ectoplasm of the Ghost Zone. Phantom isn’t exempt to that, and he doesn’t have the ability to create natural portals.”

“So he’d destabilize if the Portal were shut down?” Jazz asked cautiously.

“All ghosts caught in our world would. Maybe not immediately,” Jack allowed, “and not the ones who’ve managed to tether themselves here some other way, but all the ones that have turned up since we opened the Fenton Ghost Portal? Including Phantom? They’d be torn apart molecule by molecule. Just slowly and painfully and not where we could analyze them.”

“Then why haven’t you shut it down already?” Lancer asked. He was surprised to find himself voicing the question, but he didn’t regret it. He knew Jack and Maddie were scientists, that they wanted to study ghosts, but they wouldn’t endanger the public like this, especially for so long, merely for the sake of capturing a specimen to study. They would have gone back to the drawing board and discovered a way of fishing ghosts out of the Ghost Zone that didn’t risk the entire town.

“We didn’t realize it until after we’d built the Portal,” Maddie said quietly. “We’d gone over the calculations countless times. Nothing had seemed out of place.”

“Not until the Fenton Ghost Portal didn’t work,” Jack put in. “The designs for that baby were perfect. It should’ve started up like a dream!”

“But it didn’t, so we went back over our notes. I saw it then. What it was supposed to need, what was supposed to sustain it. I was actually happy that it hadn’t worked. And then when we came home and it was….” Maddie trailed off. “I thought that meant I’d been wrong, and I was ecstatic to be wrong for once. But as time went on, I realized I wasn’t. I couldn’t be.”

“Wrong about what?” Jazz and Lancer asked the question at the same time, but the seriousness of the situation seemed to sap away any humour the incident might have caused. Instead of teasing his sister or making some sarcastic remark, Danny stayed silent.

If Lancer had learned anything of Phantom, it was that silence was often associated with the most grave and impossible of situations, the ones where grit and determination may not be enough to pull through but must be tackled anyway. It meant acceptance of the inevitable, should it come to that, and a seriousness that couldn’t be faced with humour alone. Too often, it meant sacrifice.

That scared him.

No child should be forced to contemplate that.

“The Portal contains a massive amount of energy,” Maddie explained gently. “It’s currently stabilized by the nature of our design, but the moment we move to shut it down, it would become unstable. Without an appropriate conduit….”

“It would explode,” Jack finished. “Worse than anything we’d see if we forgot to change the filter for a few weeks. The Fenton Portal’s slicing into the very fabric of our reality. You kids were taught about the energy released when an atom’s split, right?” He didn’t wait for them to nod before adding, “How many atoms do you think the Portal’s sliced through?”

Children of the Dust, the Fentons believed the outpouring of energy, maybe the release of some sort of radiation along with all the free neutrons that would extend serve to extend the explosion, would be more devastating than any disaster like Chernobyl or Three Mile Island. They didn’t want to try shutting it down until they’d devised a way to contain it, and from what he could gather, they hadn’t figured out how.

“But….” Jazz licked her lips. “The Portal’s slicing through air. It’s not uranium. It’s mostly nitrogen.” She knew the truth. Lancer could see it. She just didn’t want to admit it. Acknowledging that pit of fear in her stomach would make it real.

Unfortunately, he shared the feeling.

“Does that even matter if it’s still enough energy to break an atom in half and start a crazy chain reaction?” Danny looked like he might be ill. “And there’s still all the ectoplasm from the ghost side.” He turned to his parents. “Mom, you said it needs a conduit or something like that?”

“We’re working on it, honey. You don’t need to worry about it.”

But they wouldn’t figure it out. That’s what Danny and Jazz were worried about, and the thought disturbed Lancer, too. What didn’t help matters was the knowledge that the Fenton children might know exactly what their parents were missing. He didn’t know without talking to them, of course, but—

“I…I need to go.” Danny stood up. “Sorry. Can we, um, reschedule?” He ran off without waiting for an answer.

“Danny, wait!” Jazz was the first to react, albeit too late to catch Danny, and by the time Lancer got to his feet, Danny was nowhere in sight.

Of course, that didn’t mean much, now that he knew Danny could turn himself invisible and fly.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lancer,” Maddie said as Jazz rushed out in a futile attempt to catch her brother. “We shouldn’t have burdened you with this knowledge. Please, trust that we’re working on it and developing more effective weapons to combat all the ghosts in the meantime.”

She had no idea what knowledge he was burdened with.

Ignorance really could be bliss.

But it could also be disaster.

Jack and Maddie needed to understand Danny’s situation. Lancer didn’t want his inaction to lead to ruin as disastrous as the tragedy Jack and Maddie were already trying to prevent. “I Never Promised You a Rose Garden,” he murmured, thinking of the horrible situation in which his young student had found himself.

“Pardon?”

Maddie must think he’d made some remark about their portal. He wished, if she did, that she were right. It would be a much simpler subject to discuss.

“Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, I have something I feel I should tell you.”

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