#children are selfish and stupid and ben especially so

[caitimetravels]

she's insignificant

chapter 5: he should have stayed on that moon

the umbrella academy x (fem) reader

disclaimer: i do not own the plot/storyline of the netflix tv series and i do not own the umbrella academy characters.

warnings: mentions of blood

masterlist

"there you are!" allison ran up behind luther in the hallway. "i've been looking everywhere for you" 

"what are you still doing here? i thought you were gone" he turned to look at her in surprise.

"no, i was gonna go and then pogo showed me this-" she tried to explain what she had found but luther cut her off with a shake of his head.

"well, listen.. i was wrong about dad's death"

"what?"

"yeah, i was wrong about y/n, you know, to accuse my own sister of that- it's just-"

"no, no, i get it-"

"seeing all of you and being back here. i-i should be the one who's trying to bring us all back together not tear us apart-"

"would you shut up?"

"what?"

"you were right. about dad. come on, i gotta show you something"

————————————————–

"i can't" eight didn't like crying, especially not in front of her father. he was always cruel, no matter how much the children pleaded and sobbed. she crumpled to the floor, exhausted. she hated training alone, she wanted to train with her siblings outside in the snow, it looked like more fun than this was.

"you are weak, number eight! we will continue until you can get it right" reginald glared down at her. "again!" 

she pushed herself up, wobbling. she weakly pushed herself again, trying to make something, anything happen. she squeezed her eyes shut, hands forming fists as she thought hard about what her father wanted. she didn't even know what she was expected to do. to no surprise, nothing happened. reginald sighed heavily, disappointed. he pulled a watch from his pocket before staring down at her as she fell to her knees again.

"you are dismissed, dinner will be in 20 minutes" and she was left alone. reginald disappeared into his office once again. she lay on the floor for a moment, heaving for breath. they had been training for hours, pushing her past her limits. grace and pogo lead her siblings, minus vanya, in through the doors. not wanting them to see her like that she gripped the table behind her, pulling herself up and leaning against it. 

"y/n?" ben frowned, stepping over. the others look at her in shock. she shook him off, grumbling about how she was 'fine'. he watched her stumble up the stairs, cringing in pain. her siblings all shared a saddened look. 

when they did rush down for dinner, y/n slumped into her chair, dark bags under her eyes. she barely touched her food, pushing it around her plate.

"number eight!" the next thing she knew five was holding her head up and her father was yelling at her. he degraded her, insulted her but she didn't hear a thing. five slowly let go of her, watching her carefully before turning away, back to his meal.

she sat up straighter and actually started to eat the food on her plate, after all, she must train on a full stomach.

————————————————–

y/n and five walked up the stairs of the mansion, feet dragging heavily. as they stepped up they were met with luther and allison.

"five? y/n? what the hell happened to you?" both stayed silent. y/n stared at her feet in a sort of daze. everything was still kind of confusing. 

"are you okay?" luther reached out to five, "can we help?" the said boy took him by surprise, hand snapping up and grabbing his fist.

"there's nothing you can do" he spat before his expression saddened, "there's nothing any of you can do.."

y/n looked up, watching as he went. she frowned.

"you alright?" she stared at luther for a moment, grimacing as she remembered what they had last talked about. she kept her mouth shut, brushing past him to her room. 

"y/n, wait-"

"just fuck off, luther" she snapped before he could say anything. he should have stayed on that moon.

————————————————–

"number eight" the remaining five siblings with powers stood in a line. it had been a couple weeks since ben's death now. reginald stood in front of them. they had all been told today's training would be different. "step forwards" she did as she was told, standing in front of the others. "you will be using your powers on your siblings today" 

her head snapped up at that as did the others. she had never used her powers on them before and they knew what she could do to others. he sent the others all around the house. she was told to find them, sensing where they were with a blindfold on, almost like hide and seek without any of the fun. it was when she had found them all for the seventh time that she sensed something else. 

"there are five people in line" she stated, "vanya?" 

"wrong" she heard her father scold. "there are only four"

"there's a fifth, i can sense it" she frowned, pulling her blindfold off to see only her four siblings. they all looked confused. "klaus.. is there a ghost? it.. it feels like ben"

"no" he answered far too quickly. ben turned on him from beside him,

"what? klaus! i am here! tell her i'm here!" 

"no, he's not" 

"klaus! what the hell?! you're so selfish! i am here!" but of course, she never knew that..

————————————————–

"come on, luther, i have to show you" allison tried to pull him away but he continued to stare at where y/n had told him to 'fuck off'. he felt.. guilty.

"but.. what about y/n?" he looked at her. he hated that he upset her, he hated that he had accused her without any actual evidence. she was only a child, just like diego said. 

"she's angry, let her cool off. you should apologise but not right now, give her some time" allison offered a soft smile, "that's all she needs, some time. now, come on, this is important" 

"i just.. i feel guilty" luther frowned as they walked towards their father's room filled with cameras. "i shouldn't have assumed-"

"she'll understand" allison reassured with a smile. 

————————————————–

y/n sat in her corner of the library, reading alone. she was calm, it was her safe place, nobody could bother her here. no training, no arguments, just peace.

"eight.." she looked up from her book at her brother's voice. five.

"what's wrong?" she shuffled over, eyebrows furrowing at the look on his face. he was worried, something five wasn't usually.. or at least he never showed it.

"i.. i want to time travel" he begun softly, taking a seat beside her. she frowned, why was he telling her? "i want to try but dad refused to teach me"

she froze, "you're going to try anyway" she realised. he nodded, now looking up at her.

"i know you think i hate you but i don't" he slowly begun, thinking of the words he was trying to say. "i'm telling you because i think you're the most trustworthy.. and i.." he paused, unsure of how to say what he wanted to. "i think you're the strongest, eight, no matter what our siblings may say"

"five.." she grimaced, "i know we don't talk much but i'll support you if anything happens"

"i do want to talk to you more" he sighed, ashamed for having obeyed his father's stupid rules. "but-"

"no, no. it's not your fault" y/n shook her head. "it's hard to go against him, i understand"

"you're too kind.. you shouldn't forgive people so easily, they'll take advantage of you" five frowned and she laughed. 

"i thought i was the strongest, huh?" she nudged his shoulder with her own, finally getting a small smile.

————————————————–

"let me do that" y/n pulled a chair beside five, gently pulling the needle and thread out of his hand. he frowned but let her anyways. "you're antsy" she pointed out, eyeing his bouncing knee. "going somewhere in a rush?" 

"i need to go back" he stared out the door, ready to rush out. "i need to find whoever this eye belongs to so that i can stop the apocalypse" 

"i know" y/n nodded, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as she finished stitching him up. she gently used a cloth to wipe the blood off his arm before placing a bandaid over it. five stood, pulling his shirt on and buttoning it up.

"can i come?" she watched him stuff dolores into the duffle bag and swing it onto his back. 

"no" he barely spared her a glance as he moved towards the window. he climbed out.

"what? why not? come on, five" she leaned out the window, watching him begin to climb down the fire escape. 

"i need to do this, y/n, it's important" he looked up at her now. "just wait for me here, i'll come back, okay?"

albeit hurt she nodded, she needed to be understanding. she frowned, moving away from the window, hoping to find something else to do. instead as she walked out of the room she noticed luther.

she quickly moved towards her room, hoping he wouldn't see her. she couldn't deal with anymore fighting right now. to her misfortune he did notice her, following her to her room. she swiftly locked the door as she ducked inside.

"hey.. y/n?" luther stood outside her locked door, hand giving a single knock.

"what do you want?" she hissed back, refusing to open it for him. she didn't need anymore of his accusations.

"i'm.. i'm sorry for accusing you" luther sighed. he had to get this over with, she deserved an apology. "it was wrong and i shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that"

he heard her cautious footsteps as she made her way to the door. there was pause before she slowly peeked out. 

"you mean it..?" she frowned, eyeing his carefully. he nodded.

"i'm sorry. i know you've probably been lonely here, i know what it's like-"

"just shut up" she breathed out a laugh, pulling the door open fully, looking relieved. "no more fighting, please? i just want my family back.." the last part was quiet, vulnerable. luther nodded, smiling back. 

"no more fighting" there was a comfortable silence that fell over the two of them before luther spoke again.

"by the way, do you know where five is?"

"yeah, why?" she tilted her head at him, confused.

"we're having a family meeting.. it's about mom. i'm going to get him"

"okay, but i can't guarantee he'll find this as important as you do"

tag list: @rxses-and-reverie @lostgreekgod @on-yourmark-99 @bicyhot1 @navs-bhat @midnightmystic

[padfootagain]

Grumpy

Hi everyone! I'm back with a very cute little drabble for Christmas! We're one week away from Christmas, and I'll try to post a few of those little drabbles before the 25th!

This is a very cute, grumpy Ben with a cold! I hope you like this!

A little comment is greatly appreciated, if you have a second to spare!

Pairing: Ben Barnes x Reader

Word Count : 1672

Ben was grumpy.

It wasn't in his nature, and it wasn't in his character at all. He was a rather shy, goofy and quite adorable man with a mischievous sense of humour most of the time. There were only a few instances that brought him to a more bitter state of mind: the remnants of a hangover in the early morning, being stuck in traffic for a long time, and being sick.

And now, Ben was sick.

Nothing dramatic, but a seasonal cold that would have disappeared in a few days. But for the moment, Ben was in the dark phase of the disease.

A runny nose, a sore throat that was sometimes scratched with a rough cough, fever and a migraine that made him feel like someone was piercing his skull with needles. He had no energy for anything and was stuck in his bed, under a pile of blankets and pillows you had brought for him.

And it would have been bearable, had you been there with him to distract him from his miserable state, give him cuddles and bring him regular doses of his favourite tea. But you were at work, and he had to survive four more hours without you. And the more time he spent on his own, the grumpier he became.

It was snowing outside upon London, large snowflakes brightening the days of children and turning the old city into something a little enchanted, a little magical. Low clouds almost as white as the snowflakes they released hovered lazily above the tall buildings and worn-out stones, businessmen hurrying under the cold weather while the more innocent kinds carved faces for snowmen and threw snowballs at their friends. Cars of those reckless enough to try to drive through the city under this weather honked loudly, punctuating the rhythm of the city that never slowed down, especially at the approach of the holidays. And Ben would have loved the spectacle it offered, had he moved to his window to glimpse at the outside world. He would have dragged a chair by the window, and enjoyed a warm cup of coffee while watching peacefully as the snowflakes fell in his garden. Or perhaps, had you been there, he would have enjoyed looking at strangers running down the slippery street, imagining with you crazy lives for these people he didn't know. You would have found an astronaut in their midst for sure, you always did, for some reason. Ben's theory was that it was because of how much you loved the stars.

But again, you were not there, he was alone in your shared home with a buzzing brain that was slowly turning into jelly, and sore limbs, and a nose that wouldn't allow him to breathe. And now, the snow annoyed him, the cold weather the cause of his pain, after all.

He checked the time again, and heaved a desperate sigh as he counted – with much difficulty – how many more hours he had to survive through without you. He had never cursed your job more than now, as he grumpily mumbled a string of curses under his breath, wrapping himself even more in his blankets until the only part of him still visible was his forehead and messy dark hair.

He counted the minutes till you'd be back to fall back to sleep, and he spent most of his afternoon tossing around, somewhere between sleep and reality, in a daze that wasn't peaceful and didn't bring to his tired frame any rest. He reached for a book after a couple of hours, but the words written on the page required from him way too much concentration and his migraine got worse after only a couple of pages, so he discarded the item once again. He checked the time one more time.

He had two hours left.

He made an almost-unbearable effort to extract himself from the covers and finally head for the shower, figuring that some warm water would help.

And it did. The shower gave him enough energy to carry his set of pillows and blankets to the sofa instead, moving his mess to the living-room so he could watch some stupid things on the TV.

He spent most of the rest of his time alone watching some old episodes of Columbo, keeping an eye on the time while he waited for you, hoping you wouldn't be delayed by the snow on your way home, his mood darkening some more at the mere thought.

And when you finally walked in your shared home, Ben couldn't refrain a relieved sigh.

He waited for the sound of your keys to drop on the little bowl by the door, for the sound of the shuffling of fabric as you took off your scarf, beanie, gloves and coat, and finally the thud sound of your shoes being kicked off. Finally, the muffled thumping of your footsteps on the wooden floor echoed through the hall, and you appeared by his side, your hair a little wet because of the snow, but you still seemed warm and cosy in your warm jumper.

"How are you feeling, baby?" you asked in a soft voice, tilting your head in wonder, and Ben swore that he had never seen anything cuter in his life.

He let out a groan, pouting dramatically.

"I feel awful," he mumbled, letting out a grumpy growl and holding his cover closer to him.

You sat down by his side on the sofa, and rested the back of your hand against his forehead.

"You still have fever, babe," you told him in the softest voice you could muster, your fingers sliding from his forehead to his hair, soothingly travelling through the dark strands. "Have you taken a shower?"

He nodded, before sneezing very loudly, the noise echoing throughout the room, and letting out a frustrated groan.

"I hate being like this," he pouted.

"I know, love. But you need to rest to get better, that's all we can do. I'm gonna make you some tea with honey, it'll help, okay?"

You were about to get up when he quickly grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to your seat gently. The quick gesture seemed to exhaust him even more, but he didn't mind, for once.

"No, stay. You'll do that later."

"It would be good for you…"

"No, please. Please stay with me. I've waited for you all day. Just… stay."

His eyes were watery because of his cold, and his nose all red, and his cheeks flushed with fever, and he was poutier than ever, buried under three blankets. There was simply no way for you to say no to him.

And it was unsaid, right now, but it wasn't hard to read in his eyes that he meant to add I love you to his plea.

So, you settled properly in the sofa, opening your arms for him to snuggle into your side.

He heaved a sigh, finally relaxing, as he tucked his head in the crook of your neck.

"I hope you don't get sick holding me like that," Ben mumbled into your skin, his voice muffled and barely audible, but you were so used to his voice by now that it wasn't hard for you to decipher what he was whispering.

You smiled a tender smile, that he couldn't see and that you barely noticed yourself as it formed across your lips, but it didn't matter. It wasn't aimed at anyone in particular anyway. It was just how he made you feel all the time.

"Well, if I do catch your cold, you'll have to nurse me back to health too, then," you replied, making him chuckle, his first laughter of the day.

"That's a deal. Besides, I'm gonna be a little selfish here, but I need you too much now to really care if you get sick or not."

It was your time to laugh, and your heart was filled with love as you did so, the bright sound illuminating the whole room.

"Well, you're feeling very bad, so, I won't hold that selfish act against you," you reassured him, and Ben closed his eyes as you started running your fingers in his dishevelled hair again.

"Thanks. Because I really do feel awful."

You hummed, focusing on the TV before you, but only for a moment, as Ben spoke again. He had missed your voice too much during the day, after all. And if having you in his arms was already working wonders on his mood, still, he wanted you all to himself, and you seemed to give way too much interest to the crime show on TV.

"How was your day, baby?" he asked in a hoarse voice, before he would be shaken by a cough.

"It was okay, a bit long," you admitted as Ben settled back into your arms.

"Tell me everything that happened, please?" he asked, looking up at you with puppy eyes, and you could only let out a fond chuckle as you kissed his forehead and proceeded to tell him everything about your day at work.

"Well, Marjorie broke the coffee machine this morning, which was undoubtedly a good odd for the rest of the day!"

You went on for a long time, sometimes slowing down to a stop when Ben's eyes remained closed for a while, and you thought he had fallen asleep, but he kept on asking you to continue then, his eyes still closed, so you did. He did fall asleep though, once you had finished your story and settled back in a comfortable silence with him nestled in your arms. You didn't mind, despite your position growing a little uncomfortable after a while. You watched TV while Ben caught up on some most needed sleep, a soft snore coming out of him once in a while making you smile fondly at him.

Yes, Ben was grumpy when he was sick. But then again, sometimes, he wasn't that grumpy, even if sick, for as long as he had you.

************************************************************

Taglist :  @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet@notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky@snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity@i-padfootblack-things  @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi​@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters @staringmoony​@geeksareunique​ @giggleberts​ @sad-orange-thoughts​ @aylinnmaslow @benbarnes-world @ladyblablabla​ @madamrogers​ @drinix​ @joelynnp @mxrihollxnd @rockintensse​ @newtstarmander​ @iammadeofstarsandlazyness @shinebrightlikeafanbase​ @wangmangagavroche​@presstocontinue @ilmiopiccolounivers0​

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Playin' With Fire: Into The Flames

Summary: Santiago has some shit he needs to figure out. THE MISSION. Dani has some shit she needs to figure out. Will is an angel. Catfish just wants to get home to his baby. Benny's just along for the ride.

WARNINGS: SMUT(18+), EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, Movie typical violence, people get shot, Tom is an asshole, like straight up, mention of pregnancy, because again Tom is an ASSHOLE.

Word Count: 7,453

At the bar, Santiago was outside waiting for Frankie and Dani. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, They needed to talk, especially if they were going to work this mission together. But a part of him didn’t want them to. He remembered how close they were. He knew he was being selfish. He had her to himself for three years.

He heard Frankie’s chevy long before it pulled into the parking lot. He parked it right next to Will’s. It took everything he had not to run to her. She and Frankie walked up to the entrance, his arm slung over her shoulder. Santi’s heart all but crumbled. Why did this bother him?

“Hey, Santi.” Dani smiled, removing herself from Frankie’s hold. Frankie opened the door for her but didn’t follow.

“I gotta talk to Pope real quick. Go on ahead. Ben’s probably thinking you left the country again.” Frankie told her. She gave him the stink eye, sticking out her tongue. Dani went on inside though because Frankie was right.

Once she was in the building and the door was shut, Frankie turned to his friend. “You’re an idiot.” He blurted out. Santi tossed him a confused look.

“Wh-what?” Santi was surprised at Frankie’s blunt words. Frankie kicked a rock in front of him, frustrated that his friend is being so dumb.

“You fuckin’ idiot. You had her, man.” Exasperated with Santiago, Frankie threw a finger in his face, accusingly. “You fuckin’ had her.”

Santiago scoffed, shaking his head side to side, “You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about, hermano.” Santi shoved his hands into the pocket of his jeans, turning away from the man in front of him.

Frankie’s fingers tightened into a fist. He wasn’t gonna hit him, at least not yet. “I know she’s heartbroken. I spent the last twenty minutes talking about it.” He scoffed. Santiago was not a stupid man, quite the opposite, so it blew Frankie’s mind that he was acting like this.

“Yeah? Did she tell you that it was her idea? That she didn’t want a relationship because of you?!” Venom dripped off of Santiago’s words. He wasn’t trying to hurt his friend, but Frankie had no idea what the fuck had transpired in the last 36 months.

“She did, actually.” Frankie informed his friend. “Pope, man. What is wrong with you?” Frankie removed his ‘standard oil’ cap, running his fingers through his hair. Santiago huffed a breath.

“If you would have just stayed away from Vanessa, you two would be together; She’d be Ellie’s mom. You’re the reason she ran to Colombia with me in the first place!” Santiago’s voice echoed through the empty parking lot. Without a second thought, Frankie's fist collided with Santiago's jaw.

“Oh. I didn’t realize it was my fault you can’t keep your fucking dick in your pants!” Frankie shot back at him, struggling to hold back the anger bubbling inside him. “I know I fucked things up with her, but I got Elena out of it. She’s worth more to me than anything. Don't ever think for a second that anyone matters more, including Dani.” Frankie relaxed his fists, thinking about his daughter. “What do you have, cabrón?”

Santiago let Frankie’s words sink in. He was right. What did he have? Santiago took a seat on the sidewalk of the bar, running a hand down his face, hissing when he rubbed the tender spot on his lip. “Fuck, Fish.” Santiago sighed, looking up at his friend, eyes pleading for help. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

Frankie joined Santiago on the ground. “You tell her, hermano.”

“Tell her what? ‘Sorry for sleeping around on you, even though I’m pretty sure I’m madly in love with you. I just wanted to give you what I thought you wanted.’ I mean she’d go for that right?” Santiago rambled.

“Pope, you’ve lived with her, slept with her, and have cared for her for three years. Get your fucking shit together and talk to her." With that, Frankie walked inside to join the rest of the group. He left Santiago sitting there, mind churning over the words they had shared.

"FISH!" Benny yelled as he saw Frankie filter through the small crowd to their table. "Where's Pope?" He asked, and Frankie turned around to see Pope was nowhere in sight. Dani instantly noticed Frankie's red knuckles from where he had hit Santiago.

Dani looked up at Frankie with concerned eyes, "Where is he, Frankie?" She whispered. Frankie pointed toward the door. She shot up from the table, weaving through the crowd and out the door. She found Santiago standing by Will's truck.

"Santi?" She called out to him, causing him to lift his head. She could barely see the blooming bruise on his lip, but she knew it was there. She reached him in just a few short steps, wrapping her arms around him. He returned the gesture, holding her tightly. "Are you okay?" She whispered into his hold.

He didn't answer right away, he just pulled her closer. He nuzzled into her hair, breathing in the lavender scent. "I'm okay, beautiful. Don't you worry. Frankie was just knocking some sense into me." He mumbled against her. He was okay, as long as she was in his arms. The two of them stood there for a while, not wanting to let each other go. No other words were spoken, they only held onto the comfort that they had become accustomed to. Dani didn’t even realize she was crying until she pulled away from him, and wet stains were left in her wake.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, wiping her eyes. “Come on,” She grabbed his hand, “They’re probably missing us.” She told him as she pulled him back toward the bar. He let her lead him, enjoying her hand in his. He had to tell her. He halted in his steps, jerking her back into his arms.

“Wha-” She started, but was cut off by his lips on hers. Sighing, she melted into his hold. Their lips moving in sync. There was no rush, but Santiago kissed her with urgency, wanting her to feel the emotion flowing through him. When they parted, she sucked in a breath, her lungs burning for oxygen. She went to speak, but before she could he placed another soft peck to her lips.

“You don’t have to say anything. Just know that we need to talk before we leave. Promise me, we will talk.” Santiago still held her hand, looking into her eyes as he spoke, “Promise me.” He said again. She nodded, telling him that she promised. With her confirmation, they walk back into the bar with the rest of their friends.

Back at the Miller house, they all stumbled through the door, laughing like children. Dani thought it was nice for them to feel so care free before the mission. She left the guys behind, wanting to shower before bed. Santiago watched as she walked away. He wanted nothing more than to follow her down the hall, strip her down, and make love to her like he should. Instead, he plopped himself down on the couch with a groan.

Will sat himself beside him. “So, Fish clocked you, huh?” He asked. No one had brought up the fact that Santi had a busted lip and Fish had a busted knuckle. Santiago nodded. “Can’t say you didn’t deserve it.” Will shrugged, crossing his arms.

“Thanks, man.” Santiago scoffed, “I know I fucked up, okay. All I want is to make it right. But I can’t.” Santi wiped his face. “She deserves so much better than me.” Will shook his head.

“Let her make that choice. You opened that door when you asked her to go to Colombia with you.” Will advised him, “I’m sure Frankie told you this already, but talk to her.” Will slapped him on the knee before heading off to bed. Santiago followed suit, walking down the hall to Dani’s room.

He was wringing his hands as he stood outside of her door. It had already been decided that they would stay with Ben and Will until they left. He knew he was welcome inside, he just couldn’t find the courage to open the damn door. With Frankie and Will’s words prominent on his mind, he raised his hand, landing three small knocks to the wood.

She opened the door, clad in a towel, blonde hair still dripping from the shower. “Santi? Why did you knock?” She asked, moving back into the room to let him in. He walked inside, closing the door behind him.

“Oh, um. I didn’t know. I mean, I thought maybe you’d want privacy, since we weren’t in Colombia.” He fumbled through the sentence. Santiago wasn’t a nervous person. He could shut down, manipulate, whatever he needed to do to complete his mission. When it came to expressing his feelings though, he was a wreck. Dani noticed his change in demeanor.

She sat on the bed, the same bed where they first slept together. “I told you, while we’re here, this is your room, too.” She wanted him to feel comfortable. He just nodded in response, still standing by the closed door. “Okay, what is going on with you, Garcia?” She asked, the words coming out a little harsher than she wanted.

“Can we talk now?” His voice was low, his head even lower as he looked at the floor. She stood up, which caught his attention. His eyes roamed over her bare legs, up to where the towel rested right below the apex of her thighs. He felt his cock stir in the confines of his jeans. No, not now, he thought to himself.

“Yeah, let me just get dressed.” She disappeared into the en suite bathroom. Santiago took the moment to adjust himself in his pants. He needed to tell her with words how he felt, not his dick. She emerged from the bathroom in his Metallica shirt, the same shirt she wore the last time they had sex. She was not making this easy for him. “What’s up, Santi?” She hopped onto the bed, crossing her legs under her, exposing her deep maroon panties to him.

He groaned and turned away from her. “Querida, please. I’m trying here.” His voice was strained. He was fighting the urge to take her right there. He heard shuffling, and she told him to turn around. She had covered herself with the blanket. He mumbled a thank you before sitting on the bed beside her. It was all so familiar. This was where everything had started between them. Santiago couldn’t help but think it was fitting for this to be where it ended.

Dani watched as Santiago seemed to search for words to say. “Dani,” He started. He almost never called her by her name. This wasn’t good. She swallowed harshly, trying to ease the constricted feeling in her throat. “You are, fuck, you are phenominal.” Santiago said, taking her hand in his. “You deserve everything that is good in this world. And I’m sorry I kept you from that.” Tears pricked his eyes. Dani’s breath caught in her chest.

“Santi, I don’t. I don’t understand.” Her voice broke. She didn’t know where he was going with this.

Santiago squeezed her hand. “I was selfish with you. I was so fucking selfish. And I hurt you in return. There aren’t enough apologies that will fix that.” Santiago didn’t cry, but a single tear rolled down his face. “I have to let you go.” He sounded conflicted, and he was. He wanted to keep being selfish, but letting her go, getting her away from him, was the right thing to do.

Dani shook her head, “No. You don’t get to make that decision for me.” She cried, “How do you know what I deserve?” The sadness in her voice tugged at his heart. She moved to sit up on her knees, still holding his hand. “Santi, these last three years with you have been amazing. You are amazing. Why would you ever think anything less?”

Santiago met her eyes. They shimmered in the low light of the bedside lamp. “I’m not capable of being who you want me to be.” He swallowed hard.

“How do you know what I want, Pope?! You haven’t asked me!” She raised her voice, the alcohol in her system affected her volume control. Santiago was sure the whole house heard her. She pulled him closer, grabbing his other hand. “I don’t know why, but I love you, you dope, I would walk through hell and back for you.” She confessed.

Her blue eyes met his brown ones. “You shouldn’t love a man like me, princess.” Santiago protested, releasing her hands to caress her face. Her skin was soft, but wet from the tears. She shook her head side to side, moving her face closer to his.

“Too late,” She whispered before pressing her lips to his. He pulled her closer if it were possible. His lips parted, tongue prying hers open. She instantly gave him access. His hands found their way down her back, to her ass. He gripped the tight muscle, pulling her into his lap. He moved them up the bed with skill as they fought for dominance. The kiss got more aggressive. He was the one who broke the kiss, only to find his way to that spot on her collarbone.

“Santi,” She moaned. He continued his way up her neck, nibbling on her ear, before returning his lips for a quick kiss. His hands hooked her panties, dragging them down her legs, as he moved off the bed. He unbutton his jeans, removing them and his underwear in one go. Once his pants were out of the way, he took his place back between her thighs. She could feel him hard against her thigh. They both knew there would be no foreplay, that this was something else. He couldn’t say the three words that were floating in the air, he didn’t know if he was capable.

Her hands were buried in his salt and pepper curls, leaving love bites on his neck. “Fuck, hermosa. I need you.” He groaned, rocking himself through her wet folds.

“Then take me, Santi.” That was all he needed to sheath himself to the hilt in one swift thrust.

The ride into the jungle of South America was bumpy to say the least. Dani had made herself comfortable in the back with Frankie, almost falling asleep a few times. Santi backed the SUV into the jungle thick, expertly hiding it from the view of the road. Santi gave Dani the bag of comms. “Pass those out.” He instructed her as he gave out weapons. Dani didn’t like the feel of a gun in her hand, she was a healer, not a killer. They separated as they stalked through the jungle up to Lorea’s house.

Dani wasn’t sure why she let herself get caught up in this as she laid between Santi and Tom on the forest ground. The boys were clogging up the comms with witty banter and stupid jokes. She was barely paying attention until she heard Frankie’s voice.

“Pope. Pope, I have kids over here. Does he have kids living with him? Cause that’s gonna make things a whole lot more complicated and is not what I signed up for.” The worry was thick in his voice. Dani only assumed it was because he was now a father himself. Thankfully, she had planned for this.

“The family’s not the problem, Frankie. They’re the answer.” She replied instantly, and Tom gave her a weird look.

Frankie asked why and Pope had a simple answer. Church. “Lorea is very devout. Every Sunday morning, He sends three guards to the 6am service. When they get back, he sends the rest of the team, along with the family.”

“That leaves him and three guards in that house with the money. That’s our window.” Dani finished for him.

“Well aren’t you guys fucking cute, finishing each other’s sentences and shit.” Tom snickered into the comm. Dani wanted to punch him.

Will stalked through some brush, making his way to his check point, “Why would he do that?”

“He’s worried about someone taking his kids, and he never leaves his money. Also, I don’t think he believes anyone would have the balls to rob him.” Santiago answered him, chuckling a little at the end.

“That’s probably because it’s a stupid idea.” Dani could hear Will roll his eyes.

Benny broke the silence, “Pope, I got your girlfriend coming up right now. Holy shit, she is beautiful.” Dani clenched her jaw. She told Santiago that she loved him, and he never said the words back. The night of Benny’s fight, she was sure they made love. It was a completely different feeling. They still weren’t officially a couple, she didn’t know if they ever would be.

“I fucking knew it.” Tom groaned, looking over Dani to Pope.

“Fuck off.” Santi growled, not missing the look he received from Dani. Santi knew that he messed things up with Dani. He loved her and instead of telling her, he had sex with her. It was different that time, though. It was more passionate, more meaningful. He knew what he was getting himself into when he started sleeping with Yovanna, but that didn’t stop him from doing it. He just hoped that one day, Dani would forgive him.

“God damn.” Will whispered, “I got an execution about to go down over here.”

“Are you at the tennis court? That’s his spot of choice.” Dani responded, knowing that’s where Lorea liked to do business. The gunshots made Dani jump and Tom sighed.

“We can’t babysit you. If you can’t handle some gunshots, maybe you shouldn’t be out here.” He growls at her. She moves to get up, but Santi grabs her arm. She looked over at him, waiting for him to say something, but he didn't.

“Shit, we got ground sensors here.” Benny’s muttered voice crackled through the comm, breaking up the tension, looking down at his feet.

“Did you hit one?” Santi asked, quickly.

“I’m not sure.” Benny replied frozen in his place. “That stock boy job at wal-mart is starting to look pretty good right now boys.” He huffs out as two guards on motorcycles approach his location, but swiftly turn around. It was a close call; Too fucking close.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here.” Will huffed, once it was confirmed that the informant made it out.

The bar was quiet, minus Benny telling some dumb story about how he almost pissed himself. Santiago tossed back his shot and Dani sat quietly, enjoying their company, nursing her tequila on ice. Will asked what the plan was and how Santiago was going to present to the agency.

Santi told the guys the real plan. He wanted to pull the job with just them. He didn’t want to involve the local government. He knew that with his team, they could get it done and take the money for themselves. The guys were pissed.

“Who paid our fees?” Will asked him, and Frankie pointed to Will indicating that he had the same question. They all had the same question.

“It’s complicated.” Santiago told them.

Tom scoffed, “How fucking complicated can it be? It’s a hundred thou-” Frankie stopped him as a group of men walked in. Dani told the guys she was getting the bill. Frankie sarcastically thanked her as she walked away.

“Well fellas,” Benny started, “This turned out to be some full on cowboy shit.” He finished before down the rest of his beer.

The guys moved back to the car. Santi was mid speech when Dani rejoined them. “You may not believe it, but I have spent the last three years of my life trying to make a difference. But it’s a fucking mess.”

“Santi’s right.” Dani spoke and the five guys turned to her. “Lorea has people everywhere. You have no idea what it’s been like for us.”

“Come on, guys.” Santi started, and pointed at Tom. “This man is a goddamn hero and can’t even afford to put his kids through college.” He turned to Fish, “You are the most talented pilot I know and you’re grounded on some bullshit coke rap.” He finally looked at Will. “How many times can your brother get the shit knocked out of-” Benny cut him off.

“I didn’t get the shit beat out of me. I won that fight.”

“Sorry, Benny.” Santi apologized.

“How many more pep talks can you possibly give, man? I’m done. Both knees are shot. That neck surgery I got last year made everything worse.” Dani had never heard Santi sound so hopeless.

“What about her?” Tom asked, pointing to Dani.

“What about me, Tom? You got a fucking problem with me being involved?” She questioned him, wanting to know what his deal was.

“I just don’t see why your involvement is necessary.” He spat at her, crossing his arms.

“This was my fucking plan. I helped with every part of this recce.” Dani growled at him, hands clenching by her side. Santi noticed and stepped between the two.

“Come on, man. I’ve trained her. She helped prep all of this. She’s in or no one is in.” Santi defended her. Tom shut up real quick. “I guess the question is, do we finally get to use our skills to our own benefit and actually change something?”

On the drive back from the bar, Tom had come up with a fool proof plan, “Sunday Soft Hit” he called it. Dani sat in the back with Benny and let the guys talk it out. Tom made it very clear that this was their area of expertise, she was just along for the ride. She watched as rain drops rolled down the window. She really hated the rain.

The next day, Pope had left to meet up with his informant. Dani tried not to let them see how much it bothered her that he went alone. That he didn’t want her to go. She tried to let Benny distract her with his silly jokes, but still in the back of her mind, all she could think about was Santiago.

They met him at a shipping container yard. He had a key to one, pulling open the doors. Santi was prepared for this moment. Every fucking gun, bullet, toothpick was sourced in-country, he was ready to pin this on a local rival gang. Santiago’s informant had come through with the recording of inside the house and promised to get an extra van into the compound.

They had everything they needed; The bird, the extra van, and Lorea confirmed inside the house with the money. Tom was conflicted about the whole situation, and that made Dani uncomfortable. She kept her thoughts to herself, not wanting to start another fight with the captain. Tom gave a speech about how they could get out now if they wanted. Dani honestly thought it was touching, but none of them were turning back; The six of them were really going to do this.

“It’s a good thing these guys are so devout.” Benny started, looking up at the sky as the rain poured down, “Our dad used to say ‘when it’s raining, it means God didn’t need us in church today’.” Dani smiled at the comment. She really missed Mister Miller.

They watched intently as the guards piled the family in the vehicle to leave. None of them caught sight of Lorea. The family had left for church, and the informant showed up with the extra van. “Damn, Pope. This lady is a keeper. Punctual, smart, and brave as shit.” Benny spoke into the comms. Dani rolled her eyes, jealousy did not become her, but she didn’t care.

She entered the house behind Santiago. Two of the three guards were subdued easily by the former Delta members, but Frankie shot the third in the knee when he walked up on him and Will. “Eyes out for Lorea. He sure as fuck heard us now.” Santiago groaned, helping Frankie bound and gag the guard. Dani quickly went to work setting off the charges in the security room.

The five men searched the house, but Lorea was nowhere to be found. They were almost frantic looking around the property. “Everyone to the office right now.” Tom growled into their ear pieces.

“What’s going on?” Dani harshly whispered into the comm but didn’t get an answer. Before she could ask again, Santi grabbed her, pulling her upstairs with him. Santiago walked into the office to see his former teammates. They were pissed.

“What the fuck?” Benny was the first to speak, tossing an empty money bag to the floor. Dani looked around the room. Something wasn’t right.

“Lorea?” Tom asked, and Santi shook his head.

“He’s gone with the money.” Will scoffed, dropping into a chair.

“Your girl gave us up, Pope.” Frankie sighed, leaning back against the desk. “We gotta get the fuck outta here.” Dani hated hearing the regret in his voice. What the fuck did she do?

Santi ripped off his hat, “No, no, no, no.” He repeated as he removed his pack. How did this happen? He looked around, distraught written on his face, before taking a deep breath. “What’s that smell like to you?”

Frankie looked up at his friend, “Like a serious fuck up.” Will chuckled at Frankie’s sarcasm.

“No,” Santi shook his head, pointing to the painting equipment by the desk. “Paint.” He scrambled to the nearest wall, running his hand down it, before drawing back and punching hard. Dani watched curiously, wondering if Santi had finally lost his mind. He punched again, breaking through the drywall.

He ripped the debris out of his way, reaching a hand into the wall, pulling out a wad of cash. “La casa es la caja fuerte.” She mumbled, “The house is the fucking safe.” She laughed, picking up on what Santiago had just figured out.

The six of them started tearing down the wall and stacks of money fell out. They quickly packed it into bags and carried them down stairs. Santiago was still concerned about finding Lorea as they pulled out more and more stacks, packing them away. The more money they dug out though, the less confident Dani felt in the situation. Tom was getting carried away, determined that they had time for “A couple more loads”. Benny assured her that Tom never missed a hard out, and here he was, making up some bullshit about a fifteen minute cushion.

“Fuck this. Time’s up, we gotta go.” Will growled, glaring at Tom. Dani finished packing her bag, handing it off to Benny.

“I want one more sweep for Lorea, alright! Then we burn it all down.” Santi all but demanded. “Tequila, stay with someone.” She nodded, and walked into the bedroom with Will and Santiago, gun raised. She opened the wardrobe door and there was nothing but clothes inside.

Suddenly, the whole thing moved, and Lorea shot at her. She returned a single shot, straight to where his femoral artery would be and the man fell to the ground. Santi walked up and fired one, two, three, more shots at him to ensure he was dead. He stood over the dead body, reloading his pistol.

“Fuck, I’m hit.” Dani and Will groaned together, Will dropping to his knees. Will was bleeding from his left side and Dani had a through and through on her left shoulder. Santi whipped around to see Will and Dani both kneeling on the floor. Blood was soaking her shirt, as he charged over to her.

“You’re hit?” Will asked, eyeing her shoulder, and she nodded. “Fuck, Teq. You shoulda stayed home.” He groaned the last word as she put more pressure on the wound. “Get me the clot kit. I’ll be fine” He grumbled.

Santi dug through the bag on Dani’s back, handing her a kit, getting one out for her as well.

“What are we shooting at in here?” Frankie yells as he walks into the room. He immediately notices that Dani is bleeding. “Fuck, Dani.” Even though he wanted to, he didn’t move toward her, because Santi was already there, applying her clot kit.

“I told you this was a stupid idea.” Will spoke through clenched teeth, looking at both Dani and Santi.

“Yeah, you did Will. Here ya go.” Dani agreed, wrapping his abdomen with a bandage. She hissed as Santiago did the same to her shoulder. Things had shifted between them. Will had never seen Santiago so attentive during a mission.

“Sunday school’s over fellas. We gotta go. Oh, holy Shit.” Benny says as he sees the scene before him. His brother was bleeding from his abdomen, Dani from her shoulder. He told them that the first shift of guards were back and that they needed to go. The rest of it was a blur. Dani barely remembered getting down stairs, let alone into the van with Frankie. She looked back to the house and it was ablaze. It was over, they just needed to get home safely.

The drive up to the meeting point for the helo was a short one. At least, it seemed short. Dani had gone into shock. “Fish, I don’t feel so good. I don’t think the bleeding has stopped.” She whimpered with her head against the window, the hand holding pressure on her wound was bloody.

“Just hold on tight, hermosa.” She heard Frankie say before everything went dark.

She woke up with someone jostling her. It was Santiago, who was carrying her bridal style out of the van. “Hey, querida. You with me?” He asked, laying her on the ground, her head propped up on a bag.

“I’m here, Santi. I should have some bandages and extra kits in my bag. I brought them in case one of you idiots needed it. Turns out, I’m the idiot.” She laughed as he dug through her bag, holding up the tool once he found it.

“This is going to hurt, hermosa. You want to take a swig first?” He asked, showing her a bottle of tequila she packed just in case. She nodded, taking a generous swig, hissing at the burn of the liquor going down. “Alright, Teq. Ready?” She groaned as he redressed the wound. It would need stitches to ensure it heals decently, but they would have to wait.

“Thank you.” She whispered when he was done. “Let me go take care of Will.” She took the bottle of liquor over to Will. “This is going to hurt like a bitch. You might want to.” She offered him the bottle. He took a quick gulp, before gesturing to her. She shook her head no. She was able to stitch Will up while the other guys loaded the helo. She looked over and saw Fish yelling at Tom as she started working on the stitches.

“If we want to get to the ocean, we gotta fly over the fucking Andes, man!” Frankie yelled about the weight issue. Dani and Will leaned onto each other as they walked toward the helo. Tom groaned about leaving two hundred million dollars on the runway. “Fine! She’ll make it. Let’s go!” Frankie ordered.

Dani was seated in the back of the helo between Benny and Will. Benny was helping her stitch up her shoulder. Dani couldn’t help it but her eyes trailed over to Santi who was staring at Yovanna, the informant. Jealousy and bile rose in her throat. “I’m good, Ben. Thank you.” She looked up and saw Tom staring at her, his eyes dropping to her hand that was splayed over her abdomen, then back to her, with a knowing look on his face.

They dropped Yovanna and her brother across the Peruvian border. Tom escorted them off the helo. Santi joined him with a bag of money and an envelope with documents. Once Santiago was sure they were good to go, they were back in the air. “She’s lying.” Tom said and Santi disagreed. “There’s consequences to this shit. You know what we should have done?” He deadpanned.

Dani couldn’t believe him. He wanted to kill her? After everything she did to help? “That’s one you wouldn’t come back from.” Will attested. Tom just ripped the headset off before moving into the cockpit with Frankie. Santi didn’t spare Dani a second glance as he laid back against a duffle and shut his eyes. She sighed, leaning into Benny, closing her own.

Frankie was constantly watching the gauges on the dashboard. It seemed as if they were going to make it, even with the weight issue. Everything was going smooth until it wasn’t. “We’re red-lining, man.” Santi’s voice was on the headset as he peered over his friend’s shoulder. Frankie was adamant that they needed to lose some weight. Dani heard Tom complain about leaving fifty million dollars in the middle of the jungle. He is going to get us fucking killed, she thought. Frankie shot back, standing his ground, asking if he wanted to make it to the ocean. Tom conceded; Will opened the door so Santi and Benny could throw out some bags.

It seemed to work for a moment. Frankie tried raising the helo up over the lowest peak he could find. There was rapid beeping and the aircraft started jerking. One of the gearboxes blew and the helo started to drop. There was a reason Santi wanted Catfish. He really was the best. He immediately regained control of the craft, maneuvering it so that it didn’t go into a spin.

“I’m losing altitude. We should land. We should land now.” Frankie grunted, trying to come up with a landing plan.

“Crash land here and we all will die.” Tom snapped at him. Frankie gripped the cyclic tighter.

“I’m trying to get her back to flat. There was a farm, not too far back.” Frankie growled back at him, trying to make sure he gets the craft to ground as safely as possible.

“Prepare for a hard landing!” Tom called the warning over his shoulder toward the back of the helo. Dani had one hand gripped to the wall, the other was attached to Benny’s leg.

“I can’t land with this thing with that net under us. We lose the money, maybe we don't die.” Frankie tried to reason with him, but Tom didn’t want to budge.

“LOSE THE MONEY OR WE WILL ALL DIE!” Fish’s voice boomed through the headsets as he tried to keep the helo steady. “Pull the external load release on the wall!” Dani looked over her right shoulder to the lever. She looked back at Santi, like she wanted permission.

“Pull the lever, Tequila!” Santi yelled, giving her the okay. She pulled it down with a struggle.

Will opened the hatch. Dani took a spot next to him, looking at the net. “It didn’t work!” Dani was terrified.

“There should be a manual override on the cargo hook.” Frankie explained. Benny crawled out the hatch and kicked the handle. The net of money fell to the earth below them. The helo jerked before Benny could climb back in, knocking him further out. Luckily, Will was able to grab him, preventing him from dropping straight to the ground. It became obvious to the man dangling from the floor of the chopper that he would die if it crashed with him barely hanging on.

“I gotta jump!” Benny yelled, releasing the grip on his brother’s arm and tumbled to the ground, just in time for the helo to crash hard. He ran back to the smoking wreckage. “Tequila! Fish!” Benny bellowed as he dodged shrapnel from the crash.

Dani groaned as she moved from where she landed on top of Santi. “You okay, cariño?” He asked her, and she remembered that Benny fell out of the fucking helo. “Benny?!” She yelled into Santi’s face, scrambling to get up.

She stumbled up to the front, where Fish and Redfly were crawling through the busted windshield. “Benny?!” She called again. He kneeled down into view, reaching for her.

“I’m good, Tequila. I’m good. Come on, I gotcha.” He said as he helped her through the broken plexiglass. She crawled out, trying to make sure no one had any lethal injuries.

“Oh, Fish.” She whispered, looking at the nasty gash on his face. She pulled some gauze out of her vest pocket and tried to clean it, but he pulled away.

“I’m okay, Tequila. Tom, they’re getting into the fucking net.” Frankie yelled over her, pointing to the villagers.

Climbing out of the overturned helo, Santiago looked over at Dani who was next to Frankie. Pushing down the bubbling jealousy, Pope asked, “What’s the plan here?”

“Benny cover us from under that treeline there, to the right. Frankie, you and Tequila take the left, while Pope and I go look as peaceful as we can.” Tom paused, “That’s cocaine they’re growing, so they probably already have weapons trained on us.” Pope was apprehensive about Dani leaving his side, but he knew she’d be safe with Fish.

“Comms are dead, so we use hand signals.” Pope informed the group before he stepped between Dani and Frankie. He caressed her face before placing a kiss to her lips. He didn't know what had possessed him to do it. They were in the middle of a cocaine field, and they just survived a helicopter crash.

“Be safe.” She whispered where only he could hear. Tom called him away and Frankie grabbed her arm, pulling her in the opposite direction.

Frankie and Dani moved into position on the left hill. She raised her rifle, peering through the scope. “Hey, put the gun down.” Fish told her, “You don’t need to do this.”

She scoffed at his words. “If it comes down to you guys or these people, I will choose you guys, no questions asked.” She trained her eyes back to the field. This wasn’t the same girl Frankie met almost five years ago. She was different, harder. Like the time she spent here changed her. Pope had changed her.

They watched as Tom and Santiago tried to reason with the Farmers. Dani could see through her scope that Santi tried to keep his hands up, away from his weapon; Whereas, Tom’s flitted above the hand gun the whole time.”Frankie.” Dani whispered, “What is that?” She asked him, seeing that one of the farmers looked like they were going to draw a weapon. All she could think about was Santi.

He hated being so far away, even through the scope, Frankie couldn’t get a good look at what was going on down in the valley. “Pope, is that a weapon?” Frankie spoke into the dead comm. Dani moved his hand off the button and shook her head. “Fuck!” Fish yelled, as shots were fired by Tom. He let off one shot before they moved down to the rest of the group.

Dani all but ran down the hillside. “Santi!” She called out for him, seeing him just beyond the bodies. He turned when he heard her voice. “Santi!” She collided with him. “You fucking scared me.” Dani's voice cracked a little. He didn’t speak, he just lifted his eyes to her. She could see the regret, the pain. Santi didn’t shoot, that much she knew.

Was it an avoidable blood bath? Probably not. Who knows though. What they did know, was that Tom fucked up. Santiago sat down with the village leader and was able to pay the ‘debt’ owed and acquire some mules to help carry the bags. Dani knew though, all the money in the world couldn’t replace the men, the family, that those people lost. As they moved away from the small village, Dani took one last look back. Her eyes connected with a young man for a split second before turning around and walking on.

Trudging through the woods was what they wanted to steer clear of, for Will’s sake, but here they were. The six of them led the mules down a beaten path. All of them stuck in their own heads until Will addressed Tom. He asked about the payment for the damage they had caused. Once Tom answered, Will stopped, turning to the man. “Which one of you shot first?”

Tom looked at his former teammate. “I don’t know.” The lie slid off his tongue easily. Dani watched from behind Santiago. Will rolled his eyes, not buying Tom’s shit.

“We need to watch ourselves here.” Will told him, before turning around, leading his mule on. Santiago nodded his head, agreeing out loud with Will’s statement.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tom growled at Santi.

“Nothing. We just have to watch ourselves, that’s all.” Santiago responded, not wanting to stoke anymore fires. They had to get through the fucking forrest. And it t was fucking raining, again. They found a rock formation to hold up under to try and wait it out.

“How far have we gone?” Benny asked Santiago as he looked at their map.

“About twelve clicks. And it’s another day and a half to the boat.” Santi responded, putting the map away.

“How are you holding up, princess?” Tom asked, condescendingly. Dani had been quiet since the farm incident. The other guys shot Tom a look and he just shrugged.

“I’m fine, jackass.” She mumbled, turning away from him, wrapping her raincoat tighter around her.

“You shouldn’t have come out here.” Tom scoffed, shaking his head.

“I’m starting to see why Molly divorced your miserable ass.” She gritted through her chattering teeth.

“The fuck did you just say? You want to get personal?” Tom shot back, “Does Pope know you’re knocked up?” Dani stopped breathing, eyes going wide. She could feel Santi’s eyes burning into the back of her skull. “Oh, yeah. I figured that out in the helo. That’s why she looked like a sad puppy while your informant girl was around. Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s not yours. Could be Frankie’s.” He crossed his arms, and sat back against the rock. Clearly, he was proud of himself.

“You don’t know what the fuck you are talking about Tom. So, shut the fuck up, before I make you.” She stood up and whipped around to face him, ready to throw punches.

Frankie was the one that pulled her back. Tom laughed at this. “God, how is it that you leave the man when he needed you most, running off with his best friend nonetheless, and he is still wrapped around your goddamn finger.”

Dani shrugged out of Frankie’s hold and stormed away into the rain. Shit, she wasn’t pregnant. She had confirmed before they left for the recce. She never would have come out here if she thought she were. She didn’t know how long she stood in the rain before someone touched her shoulder. It was Frankie.

“Teq.” He started, but she cut him off. “Frankie, I’m not. I wouldn’t have-- I wouldn’t be here if I even thought for a second I could be. ” she sobbed. How could Tom just drop a bomb like that.

“está bien, cariño, está bien.” He whispered as he pulled her in for a hug, as her tears mixed with the rain drops on his shirt. “I think you need to talk to Santi.” He mumbled into her hair and she nodded. He walked her over to where Santiago was sitting alone. He looked up when he saw the two coming toward him. Frankie nudged Dani and she moved to sit next to him.

“Were you going to tell me?” He whispered, looking at the ground.

“If there was something to tell, yes. The test I took before we left was negative, I promise.” She tried to explain herself. Santi looked up at her.

“Why would you even come out here?” He mumbled, his eyes falling to her shoulder injury. “Fuck, you got shot, and you were in a helo crash.” Santiago caressed her face, moving his other hand down to her shoulder. “Lo siento, hermosa. I’m going to get you home safe.” He promised her, placing a soft kiss to her lips.

Frankie watched as Santi pulled Dani in for a hug, trying to push down the jealousy stirring in his gut. He had his daughter he needed to get back to, that’s what he needed to focus on. Dani lifted her head from Santi’s shoulder, her eyes meeting Frankie’s. What was she going to do?

Translations:

Hermano: Brother

cabrón: Bastard

Hermosa: Beautiful

está bien: It's okay

cariño: Sweetheart

Lo Siento: I'm sorry

Tags: @mylifeisactuallyamess @danniburgh @speakerforthedead0 @221bshrlocked

[skloomdumpster]

Do you think we are gonna have a scene especially in the first episode of S2 Aisha calling out the girls for releasing Rosalind, she was right all along and blame Bloom for Farah’s death?

Short answer: no fucking way in hell.

Long answer:

The show did a great job at being SHIT dealing with Bloom vs Aisha conflict. In its hasty necessity of having us, the audience, empathize with the protagonist, they ignored that Bloom is often Unsympathetic.

She's reckless, selfish to an extent AND is being handed lies and marked cards, that we KNOW are lies. While we KNOW Terra's dad isn't an evil mastermind who's hiding genocide (ha!), Bloom doesn't know that. She has no access to all the scenes we have, she can't know Farah, Saul, Ben are trustworthy and by extent, so are their children and allies.

This creates the common "Bloom's so fucking stupid" effect and then, to make matters worse, they add in a character who's been nothing but supportive opting for siding with the teachers, which IS the correct option (but Aisha didn't know it either, that's important) and then proceed to expect us to side with Bloom still, not Aisha.

How? How can we side with Bloom, when Aisha has almost the same exact amount of information but took all the right decisions? ESPECIALLY when they have Aisha apologizing for being right, of all things.

She could've apologized for being insensitive, of Bloom's clear need to belong somewhere after hurting her family, something Aisha also knows. But instead she apologizes for being RIGHT.

The show has incredible short slightness and then if you throw in race dynamics to make matters worse... Then Aisha comes off as aloof, calloused and angry, a stereotype often disgustingly associated with Black Women. You can see where I'm heading, the show has no bloody idea of how to handle it in season 1 and while I'm actually positive and expecting less scenes like this mess, I don't think it will, for a second, address what happened.

if anything, they might drive deeper the conflict between Bloom and Aisha, since its resolution was less than satisfying, then use it in a scene down the line where something messy happens and Aisha lashes out by throwing it on Bloom's face (actually really think this might happen and also with Skloom too).

Then. Again. They'll expect us to side with Bloom, but if they dont take the necessary steps to show how repentant she is of her own reckless actions and their consequences, this is just going to make us, again side with Aisha, the "wrong" side.

Prayer circle I'm bitter and wrong and they actually resolve their conflict and build a friendship from ground up, now in equal footing, once they hit a rock bottom

[kylorenfanfic]

Long Away - chapter 1

Kylo Ren x Female Reader 

Masterlist

Story: You have been hiding for years, ever since the slaughter in your temple. You were one of the many force-sensitive children that Luke Skywalker was training to be the New Jedi Order. You were there when Ben Solo killed everybody, but you were lucky enough to survive, you weren’t important, he didn’t remember that he let you go by accident. You had given up and ran away to hide in Dantooine, but when you heard that Kylo Ren had become the Supreme Leader, you realized that you couldn’t stay out of it any longer. Finding your way into the First Oder and gaining Kylo Ren’s trust so you could help the Resistance by giving them inside information. But things turned out to be very different than you expected to be the closer you get to the Supreme Leader. A/N: Hi guys, so this is my first fanfic and I am completely nervous about it. I have written more chapters of it already, but I am not sure if I am going to post it. Tell me if you guys like it or if I should keep posting. The first chapters are kinda boring because it’s the context of the whole story. If you wanna be tagged also, let me know. Love, and I hope you enjoy it. Words: 1.6k

It was a warm day in the Fields of Banir. It wasn’t sunny but you could feel the heat. It was the first time in a while that you were leaving the old Jedi Temple. You have been living there for the past few years, ever since you lost everything and everyone. You used your Force abilities to hide yourself, to shield yourself from any other Force sensitive being that might land. You had to go to Garang to get some of the supplies – even though you were living out of things you could collect in the fields. Sometimes you needed stuff, like medicine and fresh clothes, and that was when you would travel to the capital city of Dantooine.

You weren’t used to having many people around – especially when most of were Dantaris – but you still enjoyed having a change of scenery. Sometimes the cold walls of the ancient Temple became too much for you. It was there, in Garang when you first heard it.

“The First Order has a new Supreme Leader” someone around you said, you couldn’t identify the voice among the crowd.

“It is Kylo Ren, you know? That guy in the mask” other person replied.

“Does that mean things are getting worse?” the voice faded away and you couldn’t hear the answer. Kylo Ren was the Supreme Leader now? That meant he wasn’t being controled by someone, he wasn’t being brainwashed to be in the Dark Side. He was fully part of the Dark Side now. And was its leader. You shook your head, that wasn’t your problem. It was when your mind started to fade.

“(Y/N)!” you heard someone screaming. You were lost among the chaos, the buildings were collapsing and there were flames everywhere. “Stay where you are!”, you heard Hylia’s voice in your head.  

Hylia was your best friend, the one who took care of you when you first arrived to the Temple, feeling alone and afraid, after losing your parents and discovering your Force sensitiveness. You couldn’t leave her there to die. You disobeyed her orders and tried to find her. Then you saw him, Ben Solo killing the padawans. Hylia was standing in front of him and with a furious scream, she ran into his direction holding up her green lightsaber. They started to fight and then she saw you, she didn’t say a word, she concentrated, her hand drawn out and in this weak moment the man in front of her killed her with his lightsaber. He turned around to find other remaining padawans and he passed right next to you. He didn’t see you. You ran to Hylia’s body. She was barely alive, wounds from lightsabers do not bleed, but are just as fatal as a blaster shot.

“Hide.” she said. It was when you realized she was using her powers to hide you from Ben. You felt tears on your cheeks. She faded away, hiding your Force signature has weakend her badly wounded body. And you ran, never looking back.”

Hylia died to protect you and her last word was the thing you have been doing ever since. You didn’t want to do anything about what was going on in the galaxy. Let the Resistance and the First Order kill themselves. But now… now things were different. Ben Solo wasn’t a bad person and you knew it, he had saved you once before during training, so long before the massacre happened. Maybe Ben Solo was indeed dead and now all that remained was the devious Kylo Ren, now the Supreme Leader.

It was one of the teachings of a jedi, to never be selfish. You could help to defeat him. You could help to avenge Hylia and all the others that died by his hand. Because now it was just himself, not someone controlling his mind.

You had a feeling. You could do it, you could help somehow. And inside you, you felt the urge to do something, you felt that you couldn’t handle another day of solitude in that goddamn Jedi ruin, another day in this goddamn planet. You had your lightsaber with you, you didn’t need anything else, you could leave everything behind and that was what you did.

You entered that place and it smelt bad, the smell of dust and old durasteel. You saw the man behind the balcony.

“I need a ship” you said straight forward. He looked at you and laughed.

“You have currency?” he replied with a sarcastic smile.

“How much?” and the answer that he gave you made you gasp. “That is an absurd amount of credits!” you protested, you didn’t have nearly enough credits for that.

“No money, no ship.”

“It must have another way to get it.”

“You are that girl, right? That lives in the ancient Temple?”

“You can say that.”

“Are you a Jedi? Hear they could do stuff.” he asked and you bulffed.

“Of course not.” you answered as it was an insult, mostly for him to believe you.

“You know how to fight?” he were asking with a lot of interest

“I do…” you suspicious answered. “Get to the point.”

“Get me this man, and the ship is yours.” He said showing you a hologram of a Dantari.

“What has he done?”

“He owes me credits. Bring him to me and you get a ship. His name is Barak Norurdi and he lives in the Taikana Hills. You have until tomorrow morning.”

“That is ridiculous”.

“Bring me Barak or no ship.”

You went out of that old place thinking about what you were going to do with your life. Going after a dantari? For what? Just for you to try to find Kylo Ren and kill him? Or at least help to destroy his Order? What were you thinking?

You had that feeling again. The Force wanting to talk to you somehow. You had shut yourself to the Force for so long and you couldn’t understand why now it was finding your way back to you. If only master Luke was still around…

You got in your way to the Taikana Hills, the sun was almost setting when you got there. You saw a little house, there was light on, you decided to go there, maybe they would know something about Barak.

You knocked on the door. No answer. You knocked again.  You heard someone speak in Dantarian. The door was open.

“Hi” you said with a simple smile, hoping that he would know your language.

“Hello” he answered in a thick accent, no smile.

“I am looking for Barak Norurdi, have you heard of him?” the man gave you a suspicious look.

“It is I, who asks?” that was incredibly easy, you could barely believe it.

“I came to collect your debt to Caran Spero.” You said more firmly than you felt.

“I owe no currency to Caran Spero. Caran Spero owes me. He stole from me.” He said getting angrier.

“Look, I am sorry, ok? But I am just following what was asked from me.”

“Stupid human.” And he closed the door.

“It’s going to be on the hard way then.” You told yourself. You kicked the door and it opened with a bang. The dantari man looked at you surprised. He came in your way with angriness. You had your staff with you, you wouldn’t use your saber anymore. You fought the dantari man, he was using his bare hands and you were skiving from his punches using your body and staff. Your staff went down to his legs making him fall behind, his head hitting the floor, he had a painful expression on.

“Look man, I’m sorry ok, but I gotta get out of this planet.” And you knocked him unconscious. You thought about how you could bring that heavy dantari back to Garang. You went out the wooden house and tried to find for some short of speeder. What were you expecting? Dantaris aren’t people who use tech… well, but this one apparently was. Maybe that was the reason why he was in debt with Spero.

You put the unconscious man, tied up, on the speeder and started to drive. You felt the wind in your face, it was night already and you had to smile, you haven’t felt that alive for so long, maybe what you were doing was right afterwards. It felt right.

You got to the store after a couple hours.

“Oh, the bounty hunter is back.” Spero said when he saw you entering his shop.

“I am not a bounty hunter” and you dropped Barak on the floor in front of him. He was up now, but all tied up, he couldn’t make a proper move.

“Oh, ho ho ho. It seems like a bounty hunter to me! Well done, well done!” He said, coming around the dantari laying on the floor.

“Can I get the ship now?”

“Sure thing, sure thing. Let me show you, it’s already outside in the back.” you followed him to the back and there was an old ship there.

“That is garbage!” you exclaimed, angry.

“Well, I didn’t say what kind of ship, right? That is what you got. You didn’t seem that had that much work to bring him back to me.”

“You are a worm!”

“Careful with your words, young lady. You know what? Now you got no ship, that’s it, that’s what you get for ingratitude.” In your fury you got your lightsaber from your belt, hidden behind your tunic and threatened him with the saber on his neck, the blue light lightening up both your faces.

“You said you were no Jedi” he roared.

“And I am not, the Jedi are dead. Now give me the ship. A good one.”

“Alright, alright, since you asked nicely” and he escorted you to the other hangar. “It’s a CT-21, good model, you can get to where ever you want fast.” You looked at him and then ran to the ship, getting in. You knew how to pilot from your padawan days.

You started to pilot the ship, and in no time you were leaving Dantooine, the place you thought you’d die in. Now you were heading to the unknown… or better saying, heading to Kylo Ren.

CHAPTER 2

[chicagocityofclans]

Jin Asato → Daniel Henney  → Hyena

→ Basic Information

Age: 221

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight

Born or Made: Born

Birthday: January 8th

Zodiac Sign: Capricorn

Religion: Atheist

→ His Personality Jin is a restless soul. He is always looking for some kind of new adventure, whether that is found in new relationships, new military tours, or doing things he's never done before. His childhood in a wild and aggressive hyena clan formed his focused, and detailed personality from a young age. He enjoys the control he has over his hyena and relies more on hyperactivity and exercise to stave off the frenzy. Jin has always been confident in who he is and what he wants; and what he generally wants is to wander.

He has never been comfortable settling in one place for long. Jin often takes vacations, going for weeks or months at a time to some beautiful natural location where he can expel excess energy and meet new people. Jin rarely knows where he’ll go and relies on the words of locals and fellow travelers to dictate his path. Though he is proactive and a natural leader, Jin has never stepped up to take any major position. He knows his borderline nomadic lifestyle isn’t the best for the clan and never wants to see someone suffer because of his choices.

→ His Personal Facts

Occupation: Part Time Firefighter/Part Time Park Ranger

Scars: Many

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: Being Outdoors and Exploring

Two Dislikes: Stillness and Air Fresheners

Two Fears: Drowning and Untidiness

Two Hobbies: Mountain Climbing and Backpacking

Three Positive Traits: Confident, Proactive, Focused

Three Negative Traits: Restless, Spontaneous, Peripatetic

→ His Connections Parent Names:

Ine Asato (Mother): Ine was the head of Jin’s original clan. She was the quintessential hyena, full of chaos and frenzy. His clan was actively encouraged to attack others. Jin never found himself fitting in well, and joined the military to get away from his family.

Teru Asato (Father): Jin’s father was a complete follower. He respected Ine as the head and rarely acted for himself or his own wishes. Jin never wanted to be like him and made a choice from a young age to be thoughtful and purposeful with his actions.

Sibling Names:

None

Children Names:

None

Romantic Connections:

Venus Barton (Ex-Girlfriend): Jin and Venus could not have had opposite personalities, but they had a consistent habit of falling into bed with one another. She encouraged him to let loose a little, and he kept her on the straight and narrow. Jin is still devastated at her death, and has blocked out nearly all his pack mates and friends.

Sanna Salgado (Ex-Girlfriend): Jin met Sanna, a local hyena, while on a trip hiking across the Andes Mountains. They had five passionate days together on the trail, which continued when she returned with him to Chicago. Soon they both tired of each other, though she stayed in the city. She has recently reached out to him in the wake of Venus’s death but they have yet to rekindle their relationship.

Esme Galindo (Interest): Esme is a human 2nd grade teacher who lives in the unit above Jin’s. He ignored her for most of the first year she lived above him, but found himself drawn to her the more conversations he had with her. She’s sweet, nice, and meek; none of which have ever been his type before. There’s a quiet strength to her and it has intrigued him.

Christina O'Moore (Ex-Girlfriend): Jin met Christina while backpacking in Europe. She was human but reminded him so much of the hyenas back home. They had a few interesting nights together and decided to keep in contact. They dated off and on for a few years before Jin decided he wouldn’t mind her taking the bite. He planned on explaining himself and the supernatural world while they were ice climbing but a freak accident took her away before he could confess.

Beth Jessem (Ex-Girlfriend): Beth is a sweet spotted hyena that Nada and Raja tried to get him to settle down with. They dated for a few months before Jin called it quits. He couldn’t see her as anything more than a friend. Jin tried to hold it together for her but they were too different and couldn’t see himself spending the rest of his life with her. They are still friends and Jin has recently met her new boyfriend. He doesn’t know why he’s burning with jealousy seeing them together.

Calinda Hall (Ex-Girlfriend): Calinda and Jin have recently broken up. She has it in her mind that she would make the best leader for their clan. When Jin found a freshly turned hyena in Calinda apartment, he freaked out and informed Nada. He would have felt guilty if Calinda wasn’t sleeping with all of the males she turned.

Platonic Connections:

Ethan Cleirigh (Good Friend): Ethan, Asa, and Jin go to the same Veterans support group. Ethan and Jin met around a year ago and became close friends in that time. Jin has been trying to get Ethan out and about more, suggesting they go climbing or exploring.

Asa Fields (New Friend): Asa has only recently begun going to Jin and Ethan’s support group, but they’ve become fast friends. Jin’s heard rumors surrounding the Fields family and is interested to see how true they are.

Benjamin ‘Ben’ Nile (Friendly): Jin knows Ben from being around Venus’s house so often as he was growing up. He tried to reach out to Ben, but believes it was too late to be any kind of parental figure. He seems a little lost and doesn’t seem to care that he is.

Juliette Willott (Friends): Juliette and Jin, while not very close, share many similarities. They were both born into large hyena clans and they’re both incredibly active and prefer to be outside. When on duty together, they often talk about the different places they’ve explored.

Gretchen Sims (Friend): Gretchen and Jin became friends quickly when she joined the clan. While they seemingly have very different personalities, Jin appreciates the softer and more intuitive side of Gretchen. It’s not often seen in Hyenas and he thinks it will make her a good leader. That is if she is willing to tone down some of her wilder ways.

Kylo ‘Nada’ Rajui (Good Friend): Nada is the person Jin is closest to in the Clan. Nada has his own past in the service and the two often were the balancing forces to Venus. He regularly receives an invite to Nada’s barbecues, though

Raja Lankala (Good Friend): Raja and Jin got along from the moment they met. He was initially interested in her, but happily stepped aside once Nada and Raja made it clear they were after each other. They remained close friends, and when going to the barbecue Jin usually hangs out with her and Juliette.

Peter Knox (Friendly): Jin loves the brews that Duke and Peter mix up. They recently have begun talking and he’s hoping they’ll consider recreating a foreign beer from his days in the Navy.

Deucalion Thornton (Friendly): Jin loves the brews that Duke and Peter mix up. They recently have begun talking and he’s hoping they’ll consider recreating a foreign beer from his days in the Navy.

Talia Cleirigh (Acquaintance): Jin has met Talia a few times, having gotten dinner with her and Ethan. They’re kind of an odd pair in Jin’s eyes, but they seem to be happy. Jin has considered briefly going to Talia’s practice to help with his own nightmares, but doesn’t know how well he’d react to dream manipulation.

Hostile Connections:

West Freemen (Dislike): He knows the younger hyenas can be a handful themselves, but when West parties with them he takes it to a whole new level. They’ve never make as stupid of decision as they do in West’s company and Gretchen especially can’t be making those bad choices anymore.

Russel Jordan (Dislike): Jin has a low tolerance for Russel. He exploits weaknesses in the clan and uses them for his own good. His motivations are almost always selfish and Jin thinks the clan has suffered for it. If Jin was more involved with the pack, he would have challenged Russel for third already.

Pets:

Gravy (3 Legged Kitten): Gravy was found outside near Gretchen, Luke and Ben’s apartment a month or so ago. They didn’t want him, so Jin took him in. He was already considering a therapy dog, and thought Gravy could work instead.

→ History (paragraph(s) on background)

→ The Present (paragraph(s) on how the character connects to the plot)

→ Available Gif Hunts (we do not own these)

Daniel Henney (Jin Asato) [1][2]

[corvidaecorvere]

4. I write mostly on hotel paper, knowing that my thoughts will never leave this room.

Dear Friend,

Is it alright that I call you that? I know we haven’t technically met. But I’m finding myself in desperate need of a friend. So, I’m going to make a grand assumption and say that we are. My name is...actually, it doesn’t matter what my name is. He will never let us meet anyway, especially not if you happen to be male. But being female wouldn’t help you either. He thinks all men are out to steal me from him - an ugly little thing like me, imagine that. And he also thinks that all females are conspirators and should never be left alone together...you know, he isn’t wrong about that, actually. I would conspire with any friend I had. We would conspire into the wee hours of the night, plotting my escape. I was going to escape after we moved, but then so many things happened and now I haven’t any money of my own, and I can’t take anything of his without him noticing. This is a new city, and we haven’t gotten the keys to our new place yet, there was some issue with the suite above ours so we weren’t allowed to move in for another two weeks. We’re moving in in 2 days, hopefully. Afterwards, I can begin plotting again. 

My dear friend, I hope you don’t think of me as helpless or selfish, but...I have no excuse. I am helpless. I am all alone. I am writing an SOS on a piece of hotel paper, knowing that this is the only time I will have in the coming weeks to do so, and hoping, praying to a God I don’t believe in, that someone who is kind, someone with a big heart, someone who is willing to do the right thing - no matter what - will find this note. Someone will find this note and be willing to help me, or reach out to me in the smallest of ways. I completely understand if you don’t, but is it alright if I still call you my friend?

Yours, R.

P.S. This is the address to a coffee shop near where we are going to be living once we can officially move in. I will be there every Tuesday at 8.15am, until 9am. 

Poe Dameron read the note twice, feeling like it was some elaborate hoax put on by his friend, Finn, who was staying in the conjoined room next to his. 

He heard a knock on the door between their rooms and went to open his side, revealing a haggard, exhausted Finn Storm; Poe’s best friend from college. Finn was a few years younger than Poe, but had humor like a whip and was always ready to stand up for his friends.

Poe and Finn were in town on business with Organa and Solo, a local-ish law firm that made it big in California. It was run by husband and wife Han Solo and Leia Organa; Poe and Finn were scheduled to meet with Leia Organa and her son, Ben Solo, on Monday.

“Hey buddy, this is your worst joke ever,” Poe slapped the note onto Finn’s chest.

“Poe, I couldn’t make my writing look like this if I tried. Besides, look at it, stupid,” Finn slapped the note back onto Poe’s chest.

“What am I looking for exactly?”

“Look at the way the ink is smeared,” Finn encouraged.

Poe looked, “Kriff, I’m an idiot.”

Finn nodded sagely, “a lawyer couldn’t tell when something was written by a leftie, rookie mistake.”

“Wait, read it Finn. What should we do?”

Finn skimmed over the note, and realizing it was slightly serious, read it over again. “Go to the coffee shop on Tuesday, obviously.”

Poe gaped at his friend.

“We can stay in town for as long as we like, we’re here on business and you co-own our firm with - wait for it - me. We can make this business trip last as long as we need. Just go to that cafe, and look for the left-handed female.”

“It sounds like she really needs help.” Poe muttered, mostly to himself.

Finn walked back into his own room and threw himself onto his bed. 

“If she needs help, Poe old friend, then you are the best person to give it to her.”

Poe nodded, he was the best family lawyer in their firm; he always ensured that the victims of domestic violence were given fair trials and not made victims of the court system - occasionally doing pro-bono work to help wives escape their asshole abusive husbands. He made a name for himself, albeit unintentionally, protecting women, and sometimes men, and their children from their abusive spouses, then helping them relocate and ensuring that their ex-spouse had no rights to any children involved, and could not follow their victim into their new life. 

Poe read the note for a fourth time, it sounded like this woman needed help; help that he happened to make a career out of providing.

“Hey Siri,” he said aloud to his work phone, “schedule coffee on Tuesday at 9am at Katana’s Cafe.”

[anasticklefics]

I was wondering if you could write a fic after they adverted the apocalypse & also reversed Ben’s death so that he’s alive. He’s still adjusting to the whole living thing & isn’t really used to other people being able to see him. When he was dead anytime the sibs did something stupid or funny he’d poke fun at them with Klaus. He leans over to Klaus to make a comment about how stupid he looked doing something & realizes he heard him & so Diego & Klaus wreck him?

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Characters: Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves, Diego Hargeeves

Title: Ben Is Back

Summary: Ben is alive again, which unfortunately means that Klaus feels a lot more lonesome now. It also means that Ben keeps making fun of people because he forgets they can hear him now, something that Diego decides he needs to be punished for.

A/N: No actual spoilers, just me speculating how things would be like if Ben suddenly came back!

Words: 549

Klaus couldn’t talk about it, really, because he would sound utterly selfish and could do nothing about it anyway, but he missed Ben now that he was alive. Had gotten so used to his constant presence, seeing what Klaus was seeing, guiding him, talking to him.

He had him for real now. In the flesh, huggable if he felt soppy, able to tease their siblings together now.

But he missed him during the hard nights, the lonesome hours. Had become used to never being able to do something without his brother bearing witness.

One thing though was that he could witness Ben making a fool out of himself now. The reversing of roles was interesting, especially since he’d stopped trying to remind him that people could actually see him now since Ben never paid him any mind until it was too late.

The most recent catastrophe Ben blamed him for, even though he hadn’t had any part of it, really. Used to making fun of people with Klaus, due to no one seeing him and people always ignoring Klaus anyway, Ben had said two things too many in front of Diego, who quickly trapped him against the couch. It being months since Ben came back to life, they’d grown close enough for this to not alarm any of them.

Until Diego did what he always did to Klaus, that is.

Ben still vocalized how strange it could be when people touched him, so they’d been going about it slowly; getting him used to life and all that came with it again. Sharing meals, hugging, sleeping in the same room until Ben felt comfortable enough to sleep on his own. Having him back had been good for all of them. While the apocalypse and Five returning had brought them together, it had been Ben’s return that had kept them close.

Klaus could tell Diego wasn’t being too rough with him, but Ben still acted as if he was dying when Diego wormed his fingers under his arms; Ben’s most ticklish spot during childhood. Torn between leaning back and enjoying the show and making sure Diego didn’t go overboard, Klaus remained standing in the middle of the room, watching them. How many tickle fights had he and Ben been in as children? He almost felt offended that Diego was the one to get to reduce him to an incoherent mess first.

But then again, Diego was a good tickler. He’d give him that.

“You getting jealous?” Diego asked, and Klaus realized he’s stilled his fingers and was looking at him now.

“Me? No, never.”

“He totally is,” Ben choked out, acting as if he’d been tickled for hours when in fact Diego had made him giggle for about 30 seconds. “The things I saw when I was dead.”

Klaus pointed at him. “I’m never helping you when you accidentally insult someone again.”

“Because you were of so much help just now.”

“I stood here and looked sad. See? It helped.”

Diego didn’t let them finish their bickering and grabbed for Klaus. “Ben, you wanna help?”

“With pleasure.”

Klaus missed having Ben around him at all hours, but it was nothing compared to having him tangible in front of him, after all. Even if he ended up tickling his knees to pieces.

[rasoir-national]

5 male characters I love

So I got tagged by @antirococoreaction​​ to name 5 male characters I love, and as always I asked myself the immortal question : do I pick characters I love as characters, as in, characters I love for how interesting they are, or do I pick characters I love as people ? And for once, I decided to go with the narrowest of the two, the second one, for two reasons.

First, because there’s this latent belief in media that bad is more interesting than good, leading to the pernicious trope that characters who are “good people” are boring. That’s patently false : just as it’s difficult to be a good person, and I think we should highlight characters who demonstrate that.

Second, because there’s this tendency, in tumblr culture, from which I am not at all exempt, to avoid giving focus to masculinity in a positive manner, because mainstream media would do that already. But you could argue that mainstream media is much more focused on toxic masculinity and masculinity as a “default” than on exploring masculinity in its richness and uniqueness. So I want to do that too : to highlight characters whose masculinity is a inherent and essential part of who they are and why I love them. Let’s roll.

Dionysus/Umar from The Wicked+The Divine (Kieron Gillen & Jamie McKelvie)

He is such a good person. That’s what you think the first time you meet him, and that’s what you’ll continue to think, even as the comic goes on and adds nuance upon nuance on every character. The god of wine and parties reincarnated as a young man with rave/hivemind and ecstasy-like powers. And also a kind friend, a sensitive listener, someone who is keenly aware of the limits of what you can do for other people yet will give all he has so people can have at least that, be it one good night amidst sorrow and depression, or a shoulder to cry on. Dio is good to a fault, as in, his goodness is arguably his flaw. He gives himself so completely, to everyone, that it endangers his own sanity, and make other people’s selfishness and entitlement come out. He is a perfect illustration of why putting yourself first is not just a flaw when done in excess, it is at its core a survival skill : if you do not put barriers between you and the others, you will crumble. Dio is a study in true altruism that not many stories have the courage to make. He is also canonically asexual, and strongly implied to be biromantic, although that’s almost incidental in Wicdiv, in which almost every single character is lgbtqia+ and treated with respect. Seriously, read Wicdiv guys.

Kurama from Yu Yu Hakusho (Yoshihiro Togashi)

YYH is one of the most insidious yet brilliant deconstructions of the shoûnen tropes out there. While some of its material, while groundbreaking at the time (starting with a fleshed-out, sympathetic gay character coming with a critique of japanese homophobia), has aged with the strides made in matters of representation, its commentary on masculinity and especially how it’s usually handled in the typical shoûnen holds up extremely well in my opinion. And one of its centers is Kurama. Created to be a riff on the classic “bishounen” character (to the point that one of the running gags of the manga is Kurama getting increasingly annoyed with the attitude of female side characters around him), Kurama is my favourite kind of good person, the one who is deeply aware that he is capable of horrible things. He is the rare character who begins the story at the tail end of his redemption arc, having already decided to change ; his arc in the manga is about trying to figure out what that means. And the manga does not pull punches with him : he has to reckon with what he’s done, to try and navigate his new moral compass in a world that’s just waiting to use it against him. And it gets... cruel. Kurama is a perfect example of how quickly and often certain traits can toe the line between making you a terrible person or a good one. Everytime he fights, Kurama has to make the choice to do good, over and over. And it’s not easy. It’s not supposed to be easy. And if YYH has one message, it’s that everyone who tells you otherwise is lying.

Father Marcus Keane (Ben Daniels) from The Exorcist series

Memory functions best by association, so reading @antirococoreaction​‘s list immediately got me thinking about The Exorcist and Father Marcus. Just like Cardinal Gutierrez, he is both a man of faith and a mlm. And while his orientation is not the focus of the show, it’s present, layered and realistic in all of it - credit to openly gay actor Ben Daniels who portrays him. It’s especially present in his relationship with the other lead, portrayed by Alfonso Herrera as a young, charismatic priest whom the Church sees as a political pawn, whom I could also have chosen for this list. Just like I could have chosen John Cho as the single foster father of adopted “problem” children who has to cope with the death of his wife. See, what’s extraordinary about The Exorcist series is exactly what I was talking about in the intro : whatever masculinity means, it doesn’t take it for granted. Which is why the second season manages to have three male leads that are all incredible characters, incredibly good people, while vastly different from one another. Marcus is probably the most “morally grey” of the three, but in what that term sholuld mean rather than what mainstream media tends to make of it. Marcus in an unquestionably good person in a world where doing good often means making excrutiating choices. Marcus is someone devastated by these choices, who has to try and find hope again, guided in part by the young Father Tomas. While Marcus roughly fits the “jadded brooding lead” archetype, but in every detail of his character and portrayal he is imbued by a depth that’s rare in the horror genre. I will never forgive Fox for cancelling this gem of a series right as both the plot and the main characters were coming at a turning point. My advice if you want to watch it : don’t read anything, just go in blind.

Jean-Baptiste Adamsberg from the Adamsberg novels (Fred Vargas)

Adamsberg is a cop. I know that’s a dealbreaker for some people, and I respect that. But his profession seems almost incidental to the character. Adamsberg shouldn’t be a cop, Adamsberg is that guy you see in the street who stops all of the sudden, fascinated by something, and it drives you crazy that you don’t see what. Adamsberg is a dreamer, he feels things rather that he knows them, and yet somehow is always right in the end. He’s like a magician. He’s not always kind. He can be violent. He’s not always clever. In fact, sometimes he acts downright stupid. Yet there is always this kindness, this intelligence around him, about the way people are and the way people should be. When I was a kid, the Adamsberg series was the first I read in which, hearing another man using a degrading language to talk about women, the main character immediately shut him down. As I grew up, I came to think of Adamsberg as the way women wished men were, though they weren’t. In reality, there is a lot in Adamsberg that’s exactly how men are, both good and bad. He’s a character who shouldn’t feel real yet does in the strange, poetic world created by Fred Vargas for what is one of the strangest crime series I’ve ever read. If the Doctor was the protagonist of a crime series, they would be Adamsberg. Growing up afab, Adamsberg was one of the few male protagonists I didn’t feel actively disrespected by as I was reading. The first four books of the series, The Chalk Circle Man, Seeking whom he may devour, Have mercy on us all and Wash this blood clean from my hand, are absolute classics I heartily recommend. It’s some of the smartest, weirdest crime novels out there.

Zeno Ligre from The Abyss (Marguerite Yourcenar)

I... God, what do you even say about what may well be your favourite character in all of literature, in what may well be your favourite book ? I fell in love in Zeno when I was fifteen, fell as hard as you could for someone who didn’t exist. Zeno starts the story as a young adult and ends it as an old man. You follow his entire life, from his childhood as the bastard child in a rich belgian family in the 16th Century, to becoming a respected yet feared and misunderstood alchemist, all through the turmoil of religious and political wars and plagues. Zeno is the best representation of what it was truly like to be a man ahead of his time in a time of intolerance and obscurantism. As an isolated high schooler who felt like I had nothing in common with my peers, you can imagine how I could relate. The Abyss is a strange, dense book which I probably read too soon, but which absolutely enthralled me to the point that I refused to even open another book weeks after finishing it because I simply couldn’t bear the thought not to be still reading The Abyss. It made History and Philosophy realer than any of my classes. And front and center of it is Zeno, Zeno you see grow and age, with whom you discover and fear, who utterly captures you with how grand a man can truly be, how extraordinary life itself, from beginning to end, is. Zeno is a man trying to shine a light on the world, trying to live by the precepts of philosophers, and once again is faced by what being a good man means, and whether it even matters to be one in a world such as the Middle Ages. I don’t know what to say except read it, and you’ll see why I’m at such a loss for words. Oh, and you might cry a lot. I know I did, not necessarily because it was sad, but simply because it was over, and I couldn’t read it for the first time again.

Here you have it. Wow, that was way too long.

And of course there’s almost no one left for me to tag, because we’re like 15 people talking in a circle.

[spearcast]

SO  i finally finished the Roz Rundown as i’ve been calling it, the general correct timeline and story lines of Roz as to where i’ve gotten here. i’m putting it under the cut. she LONG so if ya’ll read this i apologize

Born alongside her twin sister on Tatooine to mother Yvait Pabura. Roz is born with yellow eyes like her father. Both twins have their mother’s brown hair. Lyn, however, has regular brown eyes. Both have sharp canines.

THE DEFINING INCIDENT;  at the age of four, Roz kills a Zygerrian slaver with the Force in defense of her and her sister, and Force-chokes another in defense of her new adopted togruta mother, Roxxa Vela. Her birth mother killed the Zygerrian slaver with her slugthrower rifle and buried both of them in the sandy yard away from the farm.

When Roz turned eight, four years after said defining incident, Luke Skywalker showed up on their doorstep. Well- in reality, he had been showing up on the Pabura farm’s doorstep and talking with Yvait, and visiting the children. It was just that at eight, Yvait gave both Roz and Lyn the option to go with Luke and train at his Jedi temple on Dantooine. Lyn was unsure, and hesitant; ultimately, the “elder” twin declined and wished to stay with her mothers all year round. Roz, however, at the pushing of her best friend Jhoren and the encouragement from Luke himself, jumped at the chance to train with the legendary Skywalker.

Roz trains with Luke and the other padawans until she’s 12. Through these years she returns to Tatooine every other season so she can still keep close with her family. She’s transported by friends of the Harsh family (Yvait’s mother’s family), the Taaks- Nesota, T’seri, and their hybrid daughter Tabiit. This creates a bond between the Taaks and Roz, especially as Tabiit becomes sort of an older sister to the girl.

The year that Roz is 12 is the year Ben goes fucking crazy. “Canon” says he didn’t kill anyone, but in actuality he did. The transformation from Ben Organa-Solo into Kylo Ren is a bloody one, and Roz stumbles out of her hut to be greeted by the dead bodies of her fellow students, everything in flames, the Knights of Ren, the three or so remaining padawans at Ben’s side, and Ben- with his hands bloody and his lightsaber reddening, extending those bloody hands to her. He asks her to trust him and come with her, where she’ll be safe. And she almost takes his hand but after feeling the rush of cold come off of him and the others she turns and jumps into the ocean despite not knowing how to swim. She manages to survive despite being hurled against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff; she gets herself into an eroded alcove and only after she feels the lot of them leave, begins climbing the steep steps that lead her back up. Luke is distraught, sobbing, screaming at the bodies of all of the fallen- when he senses Roz, and goes to her, and the two embrace and cry and mourn and he promises her he’s going to get her to safety. He’s going to get her home. In his hidden escape ship he calls Leia and Han, he calls Yvait, he calls Nesota for back up just in case those who did this to his temple return.

They’re just leaving Dantooine’s atmosphere when his ship is attacked by Alrai Kal’eeb, Roz’s biological father, and his crew of pirates and slavers. The Order is offering big money to anyone who can find any force sensitive kids and bring them to Snoke (and his new pet). Luke will always define this as his final great failing- after failing all of the padawans at his temple, he feels he failed Roz by not saving her from her father’s clutches.

Alrai Kal’eeb being a stupid, ugly man doesn’t realize as he and his buds are jetting away from Luke’s damaged ship that the Amazon and the Taaks family are there to kick ass and take names. In the skirmish while the ships are connected, Tabiit finds Roz and rescues her and carries her back to the Amazon where they disconnect with Nesota and T’seri and flee to safety. (T’seri goes back for Luke in their personal ship and takes Luke to where Leia and Han are.) Roz, after going back to Tatooine to her family who is crying and so, so happy she’s safe, decides to fly with the Taaks for a little while and offer her service to them for saving her life. They agree, also because staying in one location would draw too much attention and they don’t want the Order to track her down. At fourteen, two years later, they return to Tatooine so Roz can go back to her family.

This is a mistake though! If only because that’s when Roz stumbles upon her farm under siege by the Order. Ren and Hux and Phasma are at the helm for the first times in their lives in the Order and they’ve got Roxxa and Yvait tied up and on their knees before Ren and Hux. Lyn is nowhere to be found. Hux ends up shooting both Roxxa and Yvait and Roz does the smart, terribly scarred thing to do and runs back to the Taaks.

Roz transforms. She is no longer Roz Nuun Pabura. She is now Roz Sunborne. The Taaks take care of her and Roz stays with Tabiit when she pairs up with an old friend, Corellian and Mandalorian bounty hunter and space pirate, Rhys Th’on. The trio bond and help each other. It’s within the next two years that Roz also is gifted the Taaks’ family heirloom connected to the Force- the lava crystal lightsaber belonging to their great grandmother Aremna Taaks, who was a Jedi but left the Order bc she wanted a FAMBILY. (Aremna Taaks may or may not be a technical sister or cousin of Ahsoka Tano.) The lightsaber calls to her and Roz /loves/ it. This is in addition to the one she built at Luke’s temple (the one with the krayt dragon pearl as the crystal which is a silvery-yellow color).

Roz needs a teacher! So she, Tabiit, and Rhys search out the vibes Roz is getting and they meet up with Ahsoka Tano, Sabine Wren, and Ezra Bridger. Roz has THREE teachers. Well, two technically, but Sabine loves her and teaches her what she can because fuck it. Fuck it. Roz gets to be trained by the coolest motherfuckers. Die mad about it if you’re mad about it. This info will most likely shift a little when the Ahsoka & Sabine Hunt Down Ezra show eventually comes out.

Roz is 17 when she starts hunting down Kylo. She’s still 17 when she decides to join the Order for a bit after dabbling with the Resistance also. She is technically a double agent via Leia’s orders but she still is doing it for selfish reasons.

It’s a stint of a year and a half with the Order before she gets hit with reality and accidentally kills Kosmik’s aunt and is only praised for it by Kylo. This disturbs her greatly! So deeply! It’s after this that the Siege of Quarzite happens and while at first Roz is like !!!! FUCK YEA it’s then revealed the Order wanted to essentially kidnap the Kage people because of their prowess as warriors and turn them into enslaved soldiers. Roz is like oh wow I fucked up!! In this time she starts getting really strong with the Force and almost rips some of the Knights of Ren apart during training the last time before she yeets out of the Order. Kylo is like… she’s just fucking mad it’s whatever. OG Ren Ren (aka original Ren?? I’ve only read a little about him but he seems interesting and weird I like him) is like… nah man she’s Different. (This would be the spot in the story where it’s starting to hint at Roz being the descendant of Revan.)

She kills her dad somewhere in that year and a half also. That story is really good and it’s when she’s found by Tabiit and Rhys before Kylo finds her and it’s. It’s good. Roz’s patricide is actually meaningful and not horrible and it’s a moving on point. It’s one of the reasons she starts becoming herself rather than living in Kylo’s shadow still. Baby’s growing up.

Roz leaves the Order! She’s so fucking lost! There’s a funny story in here somewhere where Hux actually assists in her escape because he a) hates her fucking guts and b) wants to see Ren suffer and c) is almost completely sure she has none of the Order’s information which is……. Wrong. But. She doesn’t have enough info to stop what happens in TLJ I guess. Might rewrite some stuff. But this is also where her story starts pulling away from the main line. Roz really doesn’t want to associate with Kylo ever again, she hates him a lot more than she could ever love him, and she just gets ANGRIER but she gets angrier with a PASSION and a FIRE and an UNDERSTANDING of how she feels. No more vague feelings and no more wanting to save him.

She’s like 19-20 when she gets a vision of her Aunt Cora (her dad’s sister, Kage warrior mama) and also of a woman who may or may not be Shmi Skywalker reminding her that Jhoren is on Tatooine and that he needs help breaking the slave trade once and for all. She calls in anyone she’s met within the past years- which, again, somewhere in there the Amazon gets her crew and is joined by Khorde Khell and his ships (the Tuskat Retribution, the Revenant Concordia, and the Zakkeg Bolide) as well as gathers the Teal Squadron and the like; somewhere in there she meets and loves up on Miss Badass Senator of Coruscant Lenore Baccre Moorheart and also somewhere in there dearest Lenore becomes a FORCE to be RECKONED WITH (Padme would be proud mama ILU so much).

The Crew Stage A Slave Revolt On Tatooine. They Kill A Lot Of Slavers. They Kill A Lot Of Hutts. Goodbye Hutts. Tatooine Belongs To The Sand People Now. And The Criminals. And The Slaves Most Of All Because They Are Not Slaves Anymore. Fuck You Star Wars Tatooine Has No More Slaves. There Was No Bargain Bitches!!!!!!

Uhhhh also Roz gets really fucked up when Luke dies. She feels it in her bones. She gets kinda confused when Kylo dies tho. She’s like…. Yay? But Also??? Screaming??

When Luke dies Roz has a meeting with his force ghost on Tatooine during a binary sunset because I’m emo. That’s Her Dad. Like Her Real Dad. Fuck that other guy. But also Roz is like wait have you blue hallucinations always been force ghosts??? And Luke is like ALWAYS?? Turns out Roz’s special connection to the Force is being able to talk really easily with the Force ghosts!! Fuck those 5 minutes Rey had with all of them- Roz even talks to ANAKIN even though she doesn’t realize who it is. She talks to him a lot, actually. (They’re very similar okay??? OKAY??? I know it’s super OP but let me live, she’s Special alright, she’s my Special Little Baby Who Talks To Ghosts And Kills Things)

So like… she helps the Resistance return the Kage to Quarzite where they create their own happy peaceful empire, she reunites with Lyn because Lyn doesn’t die in this one!! Haha retcon. We still kill their moms tho sadly. But like!! Yay the Galaxy is at Peace!! Oh ALSO Roz is the descendant of Ancient Sith Lord Darth Revan and Badass Bitch Bastila Shan. Roz is like IDK who those people are but cool cool I guess.

Then she returns to the Temple on Dantooine and discovers the ruins of the Jedi Enclave and finds a MASK and turns out Roz is haunted cause she gets fucked up by all of the Force Ghosts who tell her some SHIT is coming but she’s like ???? Why?????? Everything is PEACEFUL why can’t it STAY peaceful???

And then BAM Sith Lord Hyaljenasha “Yaljen” sith pureblood who has been frozen for thousands of years (was around when Revan was around, just not powerful then) and when he awakes he’s like….. That’s a Revanchist force signature singing if I’ve ever FELT one! And he’s like…. Obsessed with Roz a little but he wants to train her

He’s got novitiates which are like his apprentices but he’s so technically old (even tho physically he’s closer to Roz’s age, so like between 22 and 27) that he doesn’t believe in the rule of two lmfao. He’s got Nevtay Strake who’s an Umbaran force sensitive, she’s a snooty bitch who wants everything to burn. He’s got Johaale Garnak who’s Chiss and unfortunately not force sensitive, but they’re a boss ass motherfucker who knows how to fight with weapons especially a lightsaber. They’re cool. Like. Chaotic neutral. Not even evil wtf. He’s also got Carnhea Wellew, a twi’lek woman who is supposed to be a juxtaposition to Roz- they’re very similar, Carnhea has been through some shit and is angry because of it and she needed direction with her immense force abilities. Yaljen is that direction for all three of them! They Love Him a lot and are Way Too Attached to him and while he cares about them also he kinda becomes one-track-minded when Roz Revandescendant comes into play cause he’s like…. Whew…. Wipe me off the face of the GALAXY please. Lemme teach you. Please.

The reason they’ve gone undetected since Yaljen’s awakening is bc he was like…… WOW the force is fucked up now. It wasn’t this fucked up when I went under. We gotta lay low. Gotta literally keep the Force close to the chest here. So they fly under the radar! Amazingly enough!

This is where I’ve gotten. Roz and the crew are like….. HM….. Yaljen is very kinda scary and he has a hold on a lot of strings that we don’t know about but we can’t kill him outright bc he’s so powerful and has powerful darkside followers and also fuckin Johaale who’s a batshit talented motherfucker…

Roz is like. Teach? Him teach? I learn his secrets and destroy him? And everyone at first is like you just didn’t get to do that to Kylo so you want to do that to Yaljen but then they realize it’s probably for the best to wait it out until they can get like. HELP.

Roz has training stints with Yaljen. Yaljen sexy! Roz is like Hm. Yaljen adores Roz and is very patient with her and is very kind and reassuring and Roz is like HM.

Poe and Finn are also gay I’m making canon now. I say this because they appear sometimes! As the heads of the Resistance as it stands they interact quite a bit with all of the squad. Sometimes there are double dates with FinnPoe and Jhorhys (Rhys and Jhoren), sometimes triple dates including ChorZeebs. It’s cute!

IDK where to go from here so I’m just gonna…… leave this all here for now

[ghostbustermelanieking]

praescitum chapter eighteen

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven, chapter eight, chapter nine, chapter ten, chapter eleven pt 1, chapter eleven pt 2, chapter twelve, chapter thirteen, chapter fourteen, chapter fifteen,  chapter sixteen, chapter seventeen

casefile, season 10, season 11, 11x08 familiar. part of my series that i write as i rewatch the x files

Summary: As Mulder and Scully adjust to their reassignment to the X-Files and working together in the wake of their separation, they find themselves investigating a small town and a ghost that apparently warns people of bad things to come.

note: warning for discussion of the plot of familiar, and warning for discussion of a missing child.

---

eighteen.

march, 2018

In Eastwood, Connecticut, there are witches and hellhounds and small-town fury. And dead children. That is the hardest part. Mulder and Scully are something of an audience to the crumbling of this town, and specifically of two families, two police officers and their wives and children. A little girl named Emily that they couldn't save. They can't get out of town fast enough.

The pleasant bickering—gallows humor, the back and forth they've been good at for years—from the crime scene fades away the longer they drive in the dark. They end up at a hotel near the airport, simply because neither of them wants to fly back tonight. There are two beds in their room; they use one, climbing in together after showering. Mulder wraps an arm around Scully's shoulders, and she lets her cheek fall to his chest. “You okay?” he murmurs to her scalp.

She chuckles humorlessly and shakes her head. “Not really.” She can't admit that she's been seeing or hallucinating (or whatever) the Willoughby Specter, but she'll admit this, that she's not okay. It's a step, she thinks. “That was a… difficult case,” she adds softly.

“I know.” He kisses her hair. “Cases like that are always hard.”

“Those little kids…” she croaks, curling a hand around the hem of his t-shirt. She can still hear that woman screaming her daughter's name. Emily. She shuts her eyes as if it could protect her from the image. It's still so hard sometimes, remembering everyone she has lost. Her daughter. Her son, lying on a morgue table just like Andrew Eggers; that tiny shape under a sheet.

“I know, honey,” Mulder says, and his voice breaks. “I'm sorry. I should've told Skinner we couldn't take it.”

She sniffles, rubbing her chin against his shoulder. “We knew what we were getting into when we took the case. I just wish we could've done something to stop it,” she says, lifting a hand to stroke his hair. “Besides, what would our excuse have been? I'm not sure we could've justified staying in Willoughby, no matter how upset Ryan was.”

“Hmm.” He thumbs her cheekbone, underneath her eye. “This case kind of reminded me of Willoughby, you know,” he says. “Albeit a more extreme version, of course… Small town. Prejudiced, superstitious townfolk. The gates of hell.”

“Where are the gates of hell involved in Willoughby?”

He nudges her. “Remember Joy's story about the potential origin of the Specter? The man who supposedly worshipped the devil and was found frozen on a mountain?”

“Fire and ice,” Scully says dryly, leaning her forehead into his neck. “The difference is that no one has died in conjunction to this case since 2002.”

“That we know of,” he points out.

“That's not helpful,” she chides, and he squeezes her close. “Do you think that everything is okay in Willoughby, Mulder?” she adds after a few minutes. “Ryan sounded pretty upset on the phone.” She's remembering the call that Mulder had gotten a few days ago, after they'd landed in Connecticut.

“I don't know,” says Mulder thoughtfully. “Ryan didn't seem very willing to offer up information, but I told him to call me if anything came up, or if it got dangerous. And I haven't heard from him, so…” He tucks the blankets around them, strokes a gentle finger down her jaw. “We'll need to meet with Skinner back in DC tomorrow, of course, but we could head back to Willoughby after we're finished with this case,” he adds. “What do you think?”

“We could do that,” Scully says hesitatingly, although she's not sure. She's been a bit apprehensive about the whole thing for months now, and their last visit only made things worse, what with the laptop in the hotel room and whatever it was she saw in the rearview mirror. The things that Joy Seers said to her, about faith and God; it's silly that it should bother her, but it does. Especially if they really were at the gates of hell tonight. It feels like a pattern now, like some sort of dark force is following her, and it somehow feels different from every case that she and Mulder took back in the day. It shouldn't, but it does.

Mulder is still talking. “It seems like a good idea to me,” he says, running his fingernails over Scully's scalp until she shivers. “I think whatever happened in that hotel room, coupled with Ryan's fear, is a good sign that something bad is happening in Willoughby. And I don't want to let it go too far. I don't want it to end up like—” He breaks off mid-sentence, and she knows that he's thinking of the case they just closed, of their son, out there on the run somewhere. It's hard not to; she sees their son in almost every case with a child, the same way she sees Emily. Mulder told her the other night that he'd told Anna Strong that he had a son the other day; I haven't told anyone I have a son in sixteen years, he'd said, his voice thick, and she'd wrapped her arms around him. William—Jackson—has weighed heavily on their minds ever since they found him, and therefore, so do cases like the one in Eastwood (the same way they always have, but a little harder now), and so does the case in Willoughby.

“I know,” she says. She lifts her head to kiss his cheek; his eyes are half-shut, like it hurts. She finds his hand, his callused palm, with hers and holds tightly. He hums low, brief thanks in his throat. “Oh, Mulder,” she murmurs, squeezing his fingers, “how the hell do you want to stop whatever's happening in Willoughby? I don't know if there's anything we can do.”

“Assuming it is, in fact, a ghost…” he says in a teasing tone that she knows is reference to the fact that she doesn't believe in it (or that he thinks she doesn't believe in it). He lets out a dry chuckle; gallows humor again. “Maybe the Grimoire of the Eastwood Witch could help us.”

She nudges him hard in the side, shaking her head. She keeps seeing Anna Strong go up in flames. She's thinking about what Mulder said at the crime scene: There is no getting out of this town, Scully. Not these days. She's thinking about Jared's story at the prison a couple of months ago, that he and his brother and sister-in-law were trying to exorcise the ghost when they were murdered.

She doesn't want to go back to Willoughby. She doesn't know if she believes in the ghost, and she's too afraid to find out. Anna Strong was trying to finish what she started, Holly Smith and Ben Seers were trying to prove that the alleged ghost was not malevolent, Marion and Jared Caruthers were trying to get rid of it for vengeance and protection. And look what happened to them. She doesn't know what she believes, she's afraid to believe (just like she told Mulder all those years ago), and she's afraid to find out what will happen to her and Mulder if they keep trying to get rid of it. He says he's seen it, too. She wants, desperately, to be selfish.

But if she is selfish, if they don't go back, she doesn't know what will happen to Ryan Caruthers. And she doesn't know how they can help, or if they can help, but she won't leave that kid behind to whatever it is that is tormenting him because she is selfish. She won't.

She has to tell Mulder, she decides. It's only fair. She doesn't know what she's even telling him, she's still halfway trying to rationalize the whole thing (what if Ryan Caruthers is making this whole thing up to protect his uncle, what if he's given Mulder and Scully something to make them hallucinate, drugged them somehow, didn't she see the ghost for the first time after they first met Ryan?), but she still has to tell him. She has to be honest, no matter how much it scares her; she needs to make sure he knows. She barely been knows how to begin, how to explain why she hasn't told him already—will he be angry that she hasn't told him already and accuse her of working against him, the way he had a long time ago? No, she doesn't think he would do that now, but it's hard to tell; she doesn't know why she hasn't told him already, she should've told him two years ago.

She starts gingerly, tugging gently at the tail of his shirt. “Mulder,” she whispers, “do you really believe in this? In… in the Willoughby Specter?”

It sounds so silly, coming out of her mouth, but she is ready for a quick confirmation, because of course he believes, he's said so more than once. And then they can move on, and she can tell him what she thinks she's seen. But there is no immediate answer. Only silence in response, followed by a grumbly snore.

Scully lifts her head and sees that Mulder, once an incorrigible insomniac, has fallen asleep.

---

Annie Caruthers has not seen her older brothers in sixteen years.

It's stupid, but sometimes she feels like she lost Jared when she lost Ian. Like she's an only child now. She hasn't seen Jared in person since the trial, and she could barely even look at him then. (She once thought he was innocent. She once thought they'd prove him innocent, and she'd have at least one brother. But he barely even tried to defend himself. The evidence was all there, and he practically admitted to it, and that was it. And she hasn't wanted to see him since.) She hasn't seen her brothers since 2002, and in reference to Jared, she would be completely fine with never seeing him again. But here she is, waiting for her big brother who murdered her other big brother to come home. The one thing she swore she'd never do, and something she can't not do, or she risks alienating her nephew further. God, her family is fucked up.

Annie and Ryan are waiting in the living room. Just waiting—the lack of activity is strange, and the tension in the air is palpable. Ryan is pacing—around the rug, in front of the stairs, in front of the door, where the salt line sits untouched. (He's been watching her closely ever since they got back from the hospital in December, and he flipped out the first time she tried to clean it up, so she hasn't touched it since. Easier to just let him sprinkle salt in front of the doors; maybe it'll work, will bring them some good luck.) Annie sits on the couch, fidgeting, her knee bouncing nervously. It's a habit she's carried since childhood; it used to drive her mother insane. (Stop fidgeting, she'd say. Relax.) They're both watching the door, their eyes flitting back and forth; Ryan keeps craning his neck to see the driveway. He's as anxious as she is.

Annie chews her lower lip, picking at a thread on a throw pillow. “Did he say when he'd be here?” she asks quietly, resisting the urge to tell him to call Jared and order him not to come.

Ryan scratches at the back of his neck. “No. I think he said an old friend had picked him up, and he was headed back to Winchester with him. Prison's not too far away.”

“I know,” Annie says quietly. She's driven Ryan that way many times. (Ryan used to try to get her to go talk to Jared with him. He really wants to talk to you, he said. He misses you.)

Ryan turns to face her, bouncing up and down on his feet. “Aunt Annie,” he starts in a faltering voice, “I'm really sorry that… I mean, I didn't want things to…”

The doorbell rings before he can finish.

Ryan heads for the door, casting a nervous, apologetic look over his shoulder. A silent plea for her just to go with this. Annie sighs and gets to her feet reluctantly. She hates awkward situations like this.

Ryan opens the door and motions him in. The man who comes into the room makes Annie's breath catch involuntarily in her throat. Her big brother. The last time she saw him, he was unshaved and messy in a courtroom, tangled hair and bloodshot eyes. Now, he's surprisingly neat, dressed in plain clothes, more muscle than she remembers. He's grown a beard, and he seems taller, which is impossible, but that's just how it seems. Annie looks at the ground, a lump in her throat.

“Hey, Ryan,” Jared says, shaking Ryan's hand awkwardly. Ryan greets him, shifting just as awkwardly. Annie isn't listening. She's still looking down at the rug, picking out the patterns with her eyes. She wants to be about anywhere else right now.

And then she hears him speak to her, in a strained, nervous voice. “Hi, Annie.”

Annie swallows and looks up. Tries to mute the combination of anger and affection that swirls up when she looks at him. He killed our brother, she thinks involuntarily, and gulps. “Hi, Jared,” she mumbles.

Jared gulps, too; she can see his Adam's apple bobbing. “I-I hope it's not overstepping to say that… I've really missed you,” he says. He offers Annie a wobbly smile.

Ryan looks between them hopefully, his eyes wide like a child of divorce who has watched The Parent Trap one too many times.

Annie forces a smile. It feels too fake and plastic, too wide. She wants to say, It is overstepping, but she doesn't.

---

The day after the Eastwood case, Mulder and Scully spend most of the day clearing up what happened, after their arrival back in DC. The agents who picked up the case before handing it off to them aren't too happy with the lack of a clear perpetrator in the deaths, but a phone call from Officer Wentworth (who essentially served as Mulder and Scully's ally in the whole situation) confirms that there is no other clear explanation, and people seem to just want to lay the whole thing to rest. The report that Mulder wrote on the flight home is met with some disapproval, but that's more or less what they're used to.

By the time they finally get out of their meeting, Mulder has several missed calls from an unfamiliar number, but he recognizes the area code. “These calls are from Willoughby,” he says, showing Scully the screen of his phone as she unlocks the office. “And it doesn't look like they're from Ryan.”

Her eyebrows raise. “Do you think something happened?” she asks.

“I don't know,” Mulder says as they enter. He presses the return call button and tucks the phone under his cheek as he sits across from Scully as the desk.

It rings only a few times before a frantic man answers on the other end. “This is Deputy Jacobs from the Willoughby Police Department. Agent Mulder, is that you?” he says in a rush.

Mulder blinks in surprise. “Yes, this is Agent Mulder,” he says. “I was returning your phone calls.”

“Are you in Willoughby? Mike thought he saw you and Agent Scully at the Chinese place last weekend.”

“Um, we were in Willoughby, by request of Ryan Caruthers—he was spooked about the Willoughby Specter, you know… but we got called out of town on a case a few days ago. Is something wrong, Deputy?” Across the desk, Scully raises her eyebrows questioningly, and he shrugs.

On the other end, Jacobs takes a tremulous breath, lets out a sigh. “You remember the sheriff's son, Robbie?” he asks. “He's missing. He's been missing for a couple hours.”

Mulder freezes, his stomach thunking at the deputy's words. “R-Robbie's missing?” he repeats, putting the phone on speaker and setting it down between them. Scully's eyes widen in panic. “What happened?”

“He was supposed to walk back home from a friend's house—it’s only about a block, but Bonnie O'Connell says he never showed up, and the friend's mother says he definitely left. Joe's out looking for him, but we're not entirely sure…” Deputy Jacobs's voice breaks. Scully has gone sheet-white, leaning closer to the phone and listening intently. “I-it's probably nothing,” he says thickly. “But Robbie told his parents that he'd been seeing the ghost lately, and I thought that might…” He breaks off, taking a few shaky breaths.

Scully clears her throat and says, “Deputy Jacobs, we can be in Willoughby in ninety minutes if we leave right now.” Her voice is determined, steely and fearful at the same time.

Jacobs clears his throat. “Actually, I was hoping to ask you another favor,” he says. “We have most of the force out looking for Robbie, the general consensus is that he probably wondered off… but there was something that Bonnie—Robbie’s mom—was worried about. Today is the day that Jared Caruthers got out on parole.”

Mulder swallows dryly; his throat is stunningly tight. This feels like Eastwood all over again; except this time, they may be able to do something. “And you think that he could be involved?” he asks. It's hard to reconcile that with the man they met in the prison a few months ago, but it's certainly possible.

“I don't know. But that seemed to be a theory of Joe's. And considering Jared Caruthers's connection to… to t-the Specter, and to Ryan… I just thought…” Deputy Jacobs trails off. He sounds like he is in tears.

“You want us to find Jared Caruthers and see if he's responsible,” Scully supplies.

“Yes,” Kenny says gratefully. “Just to check. Joe got in contact with the prison to see if Jared was coming back here, and they said he was living in the next town over, in Winchester. I have an address.” He rattles it off, and Scully scribbles it down on a Post-It note. Her eyes are bright and unwavering, and she looks like she's somewhere between crying and ready to hurt someone. And afraid, Mulder realizes. It's small, and it's muted, but she is afraid—and not the I'm-scared-I-won't-be-able-to-save-this-child afraid. A different kind of fear, somehow. He covers her hand with his on the desk.

“We'll go and check in on Jared Caruthers,” he says into the phone. “And we'll come to Willoughby and help out after we're done. Give me or Scully a call if there are any changes, okay?”

“Sure, sure,” says Deputy Jacobs, sounding a little distracted. “We… we're hoping it's not too serious, of course… That kid…” He breaks off mid-sentence, clears his throat. “I-I can't thank you enough for your help.”

“Of course,” Mulder says, but he's inadvertently thinking about what he told the police in Eastwood when they asked what the FBI were doing there: The FBI has jurisdiction over the killing of the immediate family of a law enforcement officer. He's hoping—he’s praying—that this won't be the case here. He doesn't think he could stand being unable to save someone else. He never should've left Willoughby in the first place, never should've seen this case as easily dismissable; if he'd stayed, maybe he could've figured out some way to help Ryan and exorcise this ghost, and this never would've happened. Or maybe—he hopes—that the kid has just wandered off, and he's perfectly fine, and there's no connection. But he has a feeling that it's not.

As if sensing that he's distressed, Scully squeezes his fingers. He rubs one finger over her knuckles and says into the phone, “Deputy Jacobs, did you say that Robbie had been seeing the ghost?”

“Yeah, he has been.”

“Has he said anything to you about it?” Mulder asks. “Anything noteworthy?”

Scully meets his eyes across the desk. He'd expected her to have some sort of disapproval, some sort of chiding, but instead, she just looks spooked.

“Uh, yeah,” says Jacobs. “He said that… he said that it felt different this time. That before, he'd felt safe, but he didn't anymore. He felt scared when he saw it this time.”

It's too much like what Ryan said to them earlier in the week. Mulder sighs, rubs a hand over his face, pressing his fingers into his forehead. “We'll be there as soon as possible,” he says into the phone.

---

Annie Caruthers is a good cook. It's been more or less a learning process—Ryan remembers, as a little kid, back when they were still living with his grandparents, a lot of cooking lessons on behalf of his grandma, and eating a lot of chicken nuggets and mac-and-cheese (both because it was easy and because that's what he enjoyed at the time)—but she's improved considerably since the beginning. But it's clear that she hasn't put a lot of effort into this dinner. She makes two frozen pizzas—a dinner that Ryan wouldn't usually complain about, but he kind of expected something a little fancier for this dinner. But Jared doesn't protest. “I've been living on prison food for sixteen years,” he jokes, grinning awkwardly at them. Only Ryan smiles back.

The dinner mostly goes like that. Jared stops trying to make conversation after a couple minutes and focuses on picking at his pizza. Annie stays silent, absorbed in her plate and glass of Coke. So it's mostly left to Ryan to make conversation. Which isn't something that he's very good of (at holidays, most of the time his family has no trouble finding subjects to discuss endlessly, and he can just fade into the background), but he makes a good effort. He tells Jared funny family stories in an attempt to lighten the mood, but it seems like it just brings back bad memories. (Jared tries to smile and mostly fails, and Annie avoids everyone's eyes and wipes her own a few times.) Ryan offers up a few stories about school—the ones that don't involve near suspension or juvenile delinquency—and those seem to go over a bit better, but not by much. He asks Jared a couple questions about how he's been doing, but those just seem to piss Annie off more. He realized that he's never really had a conversation with Uncle Jared outside of discussing the ghost or his parents.

Ryan tries one last desperate bid to change the subject. “So, Uncle Jared, have you talked to Grandma and Grandpa today?” he asks. His grandparents live in Oregon, and he knows they went years without talking to Jared, but they started to tentatively rebuild their relationship with him shortly before Ryan did; they were part of the reason that he got up the courage to ask to go and see Jared.

“I talked to them a couple days ago, actually. I think Mom wanted to try and have dinner… try and reconnect… the next time they come into town,” says Jared, his mouth twisted in an expression somewhere between a smile and a grimace.

At that, Annie scoffs, before either of them can say anything else. “Unbelievable,” she mutters under her breath.

Ryan turns to her incredulously; she is rolling her eyes. Jared says, uncertainly, “Annie, I'm sorry…”

“Sorry for what?” she snaps. “Sorry you killed our brother?”

“Aunt Annie!” Ryan snaps. Jared leans his forehead hard into his palm, his eyes screwed shut.

“Ryan, I'm sorry, but I can't do this, okay? I can't do this!” Annie stands, waving an angry hand in Jared's direction. “I can't just sit here with him and pretend that everything is okay! H-he killed my brother,” she says, and her voice cracks, her face white.

Jared rubs at his forehead hard, standing himself. “I knew that this was a bad idea,” he mutters, wiping his eyes, shaking his head. “I-I should go.”

“I think you should,” Annie says coldly.

Ice water seems to shoot through Ryan's veins, and he stumbles to his feet. “You can't go,” he insists, grabbing at Jared's sleeve. “You can't! It's too dangerous.”

“Ryan, I can't stay here,” Jared says in a soft voice. “It's going to be okay, though. Nothing bad is going to happen tonight…”

“No,” Ryan says in a low, furious voice. “No, you're wrong. This fucking ghost… it hurt my parents, and it hurt me, and it's tried to hurt Aunt Annie… it's not going to stop until it's finished the job, and it's going to try tonight.” His voice rises in a while; to his disgust, he can feel tears welling up, his eyes and nose stinging. He feels like a child throwing a tantrum.

Jared seems to be searching for words, a combination of guilt and distress visible on his face. Annie, however, is staring at them both in disbelief. “Jesus Christ, Jared,” she breathes. “What the hell have you been telling him? H-have you been telling him that you aren't responsible for what happened to Ian and Marion? That a ghost is? What the fuck? No wonder he's been having nightmares!”

“Annie,” Jared says with a sigh, “it's not what you think.”

“How the hell is it not what I think?” she snaps, nearly shouting. “He gets into trouble, he burns down a building, h-he breaks his ankle doing some banishment spell for a ghost he's been seeing all his life, and you think that doesn't have something to do with you? You can pin it all on some fucking ghost? The fucking Willoughby Specter?”

Ryan is speechless, hurt beyond words. Jared is pale and horrified, his eyes wide. He says softly, “You're right, Annie. It has everything to do with me. Just not in the way that you think.”

He turns towards Ryan, reaching out to clap him on the shoulder. “I'm going to leave, okay? I'm going to call my friend to come and get me. It's going to be fine.”

There are furious, hurt things that Ryan wants to say, but somehow, he can't get the words out. He nods, numb. Jared claps his shoulder again before turning and offering an apology to Annie. She says nothing in return.

When he's gone, the door slamming behind him, there's something of a tense silence in his wake. Ryan covers his face with his hands. He thought that they'd be safe if they just stayed here, but he should've fucking known it wouldn't work. He should've expected something like this.

“Ry, I'm sorry, but…” Annie starts.

He lowers his palms and shoots her an indignant, searing look. “Is that really what you think of me? That I'm fucked up because of Uncle Jared? Have you ever believed me about the Specter?”

Annie's mouth opens, closes. She starts uneasily: “Ryan, it's not that I don't believe you…”

“Yeah, got it,” Ryan snaps.

He moves, automatically, to the coat hook by the door, and grabs his coat. Then he yanks the door open. “Ryan, where are you going?” Annie calls, her voice tight and nervous, and maybe a little angry.

“Out!” Ryan shouts in response, letting the door slam behind him.

He runs down the driveway and past Jared, who is standing at the curb, assumedly waiting for his ride. He shouts a similar question of Ryan's whereabouts as Ryan passes.

“I need to check on someone!” Ryan shouts in response. He might as well give the truth to Jared—they’re more or less in this together, or so he thought. He's honestly not sure anymore.

Ryan keeps running, taking the familiar turns, going up familiar streets. He's going to check on the one person who has mentioned the ghost recently who isn't possessed. That seems to be the only responsible thing left to do.

The O'Connells's house is only a few blocks away, so Ryan makes it there in a pretty decent amount of time. He's breathing too hard, cold sweat running down his back; he sags forward, his hands pressing into the bark of the big tree in the front yard. He remembers this tree from babysitting—Robbie used to love to try and climb it. He shuts his eyes, his face wet, and takes a deep breath. He stands and stretches, walks up the front walkway and rings the doorbell.

Almost instantly, the door is being pulled open. Mrs. O'Connell is on the other side, and her expression is almost eager until she sees who it is; it immediately falls. “Ryan,” she mutters, in about the coldest tone he's ever heard from her; she's always been a lot nicer to him compared to her husband. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Mrs. O'Connell,” Ryan says, trying his best to sound polite, and not panicked. “I wanted to, uh, drop in and say hi to Robbie. Is he here?”

Mrs. O'Connell laughs harshly, her mouth around in a grim frown. “Unbelievable,” she says vaguely, as if talking to no one. “No, he's not here. He's been missing since sometime this afternoon.”

Ryan's stomach drops out from under him, his knees going weak. “He's missing?” he stammers. “W-what happened?”

“We don't know. My husband is out looking for him.” Mrs. O'Connell crosses her arms, nearly glaring at Ryan. “You know, this whole thing seems to coincide pretty conveniently with Robbie's claims of seeing the Willoughby Specter. A story I seem to remember you getting him interested in.”

Ryan's stomach twists again; he sways a little in place. “Y-you're blaming me for this?” he stammers. It's not an entirely off-base assumption—the Specter probably wouldn't be targeting Robbie and his family if it weren't for him—but the accusation still floors him.

Mrs. O'Connell sighs, rubbing her temples. “Look, Ryan, I don't know what's happening here, but—” Her voice breaks. “Y-you let our dog out, you almost killed my husband, and now my son goes missing after getting scared of a ghost you told him about? It's not a coincidence. It can't be.”

Ryan feels faint. He clutches the door harder. “I-I didn't let out your dog,” he whispers.

It's true. It's the one thing he didn't do in this whole giant mess: he didn't go anywhere near the damn dog. His suspicion is that the Specter possessed Robbie to let the dog out, just based on what he heard Robbie and Sheriff O'Connell had said about that night. But it wasn't him. Everything else was his fault, but not that.

Mrs. O'Connell's face falls further. Crumples. She looks like she's on the verge of tears. She says softly, “I'm sorry, Ryan. But I think you should go.”

She starts to close the door, but Ryan holds onto it, holds it open. “I-I really want you to find Robbie okay,” he stammers. “I-I-I'll go look for him. I'll go help look…”

Mrs. O'Connell looks at him and looks at him. She's sad; the look she's giving him is almost sympathetic. “Do whatever you want, Ryan,” she says. Slightly pitying and slightly disgusted. “I'm sorry.”

She tries to close the door again, and this time, he lets her. The door slams hard.

The tears rush up, and Ryan doesn't even try to stop them. He covers his face with his palms and sobs like a baby.

After a few minutes of crying, his ribs heaving, his cheeks wet, he decides it's silly to just keep standing on the porch of a woman who basically just told him to go away. He swipes wildly at his eyes and walks down the stairs and over to the sidewalk. He's walked several houses past the O'Connell house, sniffling and considering what the hell he's going to do now, when his phone starts to ring in his pocket, buzzing insistently. Expecting it to be Annie, a call he'll probably ignore, Ryan pulls out the phone and looks at the screen. But it's not Annie. It's an unfamiliar number.

Ryan sniffles a few more times, wiping his eyes and nose again, as he answers the phone. “Hello?” he says, praying his voice is steady.

There is only silence on the other end. Staticky, rustling sounds. And then, just as he's about to hang up: “I assume that you are feeling a considerable amount of distress, Ryan Caruthers.”

The voice sounds like Mrs. Seers, but Ryan knows it's not. It's the way she's sounded ever since she's woken up. It's harsher, more threatening. It's the type of voice that Ryan imagined as a child, huddled in a corner with his hands over his ears, his eyes shut, pretending that there wasn't a ghost in the room. It's the type of voice that might've haunted his nightmares.

Ryan intakes a sharp breath, his ribs tightening, and whirls away from the houses, as if the residents are listening to him. He cups his hand around the phone speaker and his mouth and whispers furiously, “You have Robbie, don't you?”

“Perhaps.”

He grits his teeth furiously, his hands clenched into fists. He's so furious, he can barely breathe. “Where the hell did you take him?” he hisses, clutching the phone hard. “What did you do?”

“That remains to be seen.” The voice is almost unfamiliar, like any inflections of Mrs. Seers have been scrubbed away. He wonders how long the ghost has been there, if there's even anything left of his old teacher. “I could do a lot of things. I have been watching the child for a long time.”

Ryan balls his hand in the top of his hair. He doesn't know if the Specter wants to do this to implicate him, or to lure him there and hurt him instead of Robbie, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care. He's not going to let anyone else die. “You want me?” he growls. “You'll get me. Where is he?”

“I am surprised you cannot figure it out.” A pause on the other end. Usually, when people pause on the phone, you can hear people breathing, but Ryan can't hear a thing. It's all quiet. “It is the place where you have felt me closest.”

There's a sharp click on the other end, and then nothing.

---

The drive to Winchester is mostly quiet. Mulder drives, mostly to focus his anxious energy on a task. Scully sits in the passenger seat, fidgeting, flipping through the Willoughby files Mulder had grabbed from the filing cabinet before they'd left. The tension in the car is unmistakable. They both are nervous, stuck in the place of Eastwood and children they couldn't save.

At one point, Scully reaches across the center console to squeeze Mulder's arm. “You know it wasn't your fault, right?” she says in a soft voice. “We had to leave. There's probably nothing we could've done.”

Mulder chews at his lower lip, squinting at the road. “You're right that we had to leave,” he says, “but I don't know that there was nothing we could've done.” He's thinking about Ryan's phone call on the day they left, how there seemed to be a reason for Ryan's call that he couldn't disclose. He doesn't know if that has anything to do with this, but he's got a feeling that it does. “I think the most we can hope for is that we'll be able to bring about a good outcome here,” he adds.

Scully sighs, squeezing his arm briefly before letting go. “What do you think is going on here, Mulder?” she asks in a subdued voice that catches him off guard. “Why do you think this is happening?”

He blinks a few rapid times, thrown off. He doesn't know if she's trying to start some sort of debate or not, and he's definitely not in the mood for a debate. “I think it's all connected,” he says. “Ryan, Jared, Robbie, the ghost.” He casts a brief, sideways look at her, expecting her to refute the ghost claim, but she doesn't say anything. “I would suggest some other explanation, but after what happened in our hotel room, I don't really have one,” he continues. “I think that whatever's happening is connected to the Willoughby Specter. I think that's kind of undeniable by now.”

He expects Scully to have a retort to that, some kind of alternate explanation, but she says nothing once again. He sneaks another glance and finds her sitting quietly in her seat, looking down at where she's got Google Maps open and directions to Jared Caruthers's new address pulled up. She seems almost disinterested… or scared. The way she seemed back at the office when they got the call from Deputy Jacobs.

Some things are suddenly starting to make sense to Mulder, to fall into place. He remembers the way Scully seemed spooked in the aftermath of the laptop flying across the room, the way she seemed apprehensive about coming back to Willoughby in the first place. And there are older memories as well: her reactions when he told her about seeing the ghost—the dreams he had before the Perlieu incident and before they went to Norfolk, and the time that he physically saw it, in the school—and, further back, the way she reacted when Joy Seers showed them the videos of the haunting in her classroom. He remembers being thrown by her behavior there, the way she seemed to be spooked by all of this. He remembers thinking that it was unlike her, that this is unlike her. And he wonders—probably too late—if something is wrong.

He sneaks another look at her as they turn up a street. She's still quiet, cradling her phone in her lap. He speaks gingerly, trying to let her know that he is not judging her or expecting anything of her, as he looks out at the road: “Scully? Do… do you believe in the ghost?”

More silence, a longer silence than he expected. Mulder looks at Scully briefly again, and sees that her neck and cheeks are red as if she has a fever. (Or as if she's embarrassed.) She clears her throat as if preparing to confide, but what she says is not that. She says, “The turn's up here, Mulder… here, this next left.”

If he knows Scully, than he knows that this is efficiently a shutdown of the subject. He takes the left, into the parking lot of a sprawling apartment building. “Deputy Jacobs gave us the apartment number, right?” he asks.

“Second apartment, fourth floor.” Scully clutches the phone hard, turning it off with the flat of her thumb. “Mulder…” she starts, uncertainly. Almost apologetically.

“It's okay.” He reaches for her hand on an impulse, pulling it away from the phone and squeezing briefly. “It's okay,” he repeats, looking her right in the eyes. Her cheeks redden further; she looks away. He squeezes her hand again before turning and opening his door. “We should probably get going.”

He hears her door open. “Yeah,” she agrees, “we probably should.”

They ride the elevator to the fourth floor in silence. The second apartment is directly adjacent to it, and Scully raps on the door, her stance hardening and her face flattening out into a serious expression. They both pull their badges as a man on the other side of the door shouts, “Coming!” They hear a series of footsteps before the door creaks open, a man who is definitely not Jared Caruthers standing on the other side. His face falls a bit at the sight of their badges, his face growing stonier as if he's putting up his defenses.

“FBI,” Scully says calmly. “Is Jared Caruthers here?”

The man's eyes dart back and forth between them as he shifts in the doorway. “Why do you want to know?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“We'd just like to ask him some questions,” Mulder says. “Is he here?”

“Dan, it's okay. I've got this.” Jared appears next to the man in the door, his expression somewhere between nervous and polite. He scans their badges quickly before meeting their eyes. “Agents Mulder and Scully? Did my nephew call you?”

“Actually, we're here in conjunction with the disappearance of Robbie O'Connell,” says Scully.

Jared's face falls, his mouth dropping open in surprise. The man next to Jared—Dan—crosses his arms and snaps, “He's been with me most of the day, you know. I picked him up from the prison in Pennsylvania, I brought him here to get settled, I dropped him off at his sister's for about an hour, and I picked him up about twenty minutes ago. I don't know who this Robbie O'Connell is, but—”

“Dan, it's fine, it's fine,” Jared says, holding up a hand as if to quieten him. He addresses Mulder and Scully: “I don't know Robbie O'Connell. I-I think Ryan might've mentioned him to me before, but… I've never met him. And I didn't take him, or hurt him. If you want to take a look around…” He sweeps his arm broadly across the doorway.

They don't have a warrant for Jared's apartment—and on top of that, Mulder thinks he’s probably not responsible. He'd had his doubts before, and this exchange has all but confirmed it. He could be wrong, but it seems like Jared is not involved. “Can your sister confirm that you were there the entire time you were outside of this man's presence?” Scully asks, her voice stern, and Mulder follows her line of thinking: Annie Caruthers has no reason to cover for her brother. He doesn't think he's ever gotten Annie's direct opinion on Jared, but he remembers Jared saying that his sister hated him.

Jared nods grimly. “I don't think she'll like it, but… yeah. Yeah, give her a call.” He motions them inside and rattles off the number for Scully, who steps aside to make the call. Her eyes slide over the room as the phone rings, looking for signs of anything amiss. Jared's friend, Dan, shoots them another suspicious look as he slips into the back of the apartment.

Jared is speaking to Mulder in a frantic voice. “I know you have no good reason to believe me,” he's saying nervously, “but I swear, I never came into contact with that kid. I wouldn't even be able to pick him out of a lineup. And I swear to God, I would never hurt him… I don't want to hurt anyone…”

Mulder chews at his lower lip, doing his own quick scan of the apartment. He offers, “Jared, this is probably an odd question… but do you think that this disappearance could have something to do with the Specter? We… We'd heard that Robbie had been seeing the ghost recently, and with his connection to Ryan…”

Jared's jaw works back and forth, as if contemplating. “It certainly sounds like it,” he says softly.

“Ryan called us in last week because he was scared of the ghost,” Mulder admits. From the look Scully is giving him, he assumes she thinks he's oversharing, but it doesn't seem to matter. Right now, it seems like Jared may be the best person to have a conversation with about this ghost. “He wanted us to… try and get rid of the ghost,” he adds sheepishly, the shame of their lackluster effort rushing back.

Jared grimaces a little, rubbing at his mouth. “That makes sense,” he mutters.

“Why's that?”

“Because he first contacted me in an attempt to get rid of the ghost,” Jared explains. “He wanted my help. He figured out what Ian and Marion and I were doing when they died, somehow, and he thought he could do it successfully. His attempts were… less than successful. He-he set a fire two years ago in an attempt to make the flurry of sightings stop, and he tried to exorcise the ghost himself just in December… and it ended in him spraining his ankle, and—according to him—Annie being possessed and nearly hurting herself. And when he called me to tell me what happened, I… I reacted badly.” He winces again. “I was so scared that he was going to get hurt. Or killed. And I think… I think he was kind of defeated after that. More scared. I… I guess that's why he called you two in.”

“He seemed to think that it was getting more dangerous,” says Mulder. “He gave us a video he took of a seancé—as proof that things were dangerous—and in the middle of watching it, the feed froze, and the laptop went flying across the room out of nowhere.”

Jared has a regretful, knowing look on his face. “Have either of you seen the ghost?” he asks. “Just… out of curiosity.”

“I have. A couple of dreams last fall, and once back in 2016. I don't think that Scully has.”

“I've been seeing it, too,” Jared admits. His voice is tight and afraid; it's small, like a child after a nightmare. “More than usual. Today, Ryan insisted that I come straight to the house because the house was protected, and I'd hoped he was just being paranoid. But now… now I don't think that's the case.”

An uneasy silence falls over them. Mulder's gaze shifts to the floor, unsure of what to say. He doesn't know how to stop this. He wishes desperately that he did.

“Okay,” says Scully across the room. “Thank you.” She hangs up, slipping the phone into her pocket, and crosses the room. “Well,” she says to Jared, “your sister confirmed your alibi. She says that she saw you standing at the end of the driveway after you walked out, and that she saw you getting picked up when she was leaving.”

“Okay,” Jared says awkwardly, one hand in his pocket. “Okay. And, uh, did she say where Ryan went? She was going to get him, right?”

“No, she didn't know where Ryan was,” Scully says. “Actually, she said she was out looking for him when she picked up.”

“Shit.” Jared rubs at his mouth stressedly. “Shit. I thought he might’ve been home by now. Shit, he… he said he was going to check on someone. I bet he knows about Robbie… I bet he's out there looking for him.” His eyes are shut tight in frustration, his voice wavering with fright. “Fuck. That kid is going to get himself… hurt.” He stops awkwardly, as if wanting to avoid the possibility of something worse than hurt.

“Do you think there's a possibility that he's found Robbie?” Mulder asks, his mind working. Scully raises her eyebrows at him questioningly. “Do you think that they could be in the same place somehow?” he continues. “If all of this is happening for the same reason?”

“Mulder, are you thinking that we may be able to find both of them somehow?” Scully asks.

“The line of thinking is that the Specter is connected to their disappearances, right?” he offers. “So by that logic…”

“You could probably find them both if you looked for one of them,” Jared says, his voice infused by sudden hope. “Y-you have to go look for them, please. I think I have an idea of where they might be.”

Mulder meets Scully's eyes again. She looks uncertain, saying, “Mulder, I don't know… I'm not sure that it's the best lead to follow.”

“Deputy Jacobs said most of the force was out looking for Robbie, right? What's it going to hurt if we follow this lead?” Mulder prods. “What if it's the right lead?” Scully doesn't look sure, and so he prods further. “Besides, Ryan Caruthers is missing, too. By pursuing this lead, we're pursuing them both.”

Jared is looking between them apprehensively. Scully sighs and nods. “I should call Deputy Jacobs, though, and let him know what we're doing,” she says. Mulder nods back and passes her his phone, where he has the number saved.

“I need to come with you,” Jared says insistently to Mulder. “I think I know how to find them.”

Mulder is tempted to argue—he knows that Scully would—but it doesn't feel worth it. There are two kids out there who need help, and he needs to make sure he doesn't fail them this time. “Where do you think they might be?” he asks.

“This is going to sound crazy, but… I've always had a feeling that the Specter was stronger in a certain area,” says Jared. “I think it's on the block of the old church, the one that's been around since before the town was founded. I think it has some sort of… power center there. I know that sounds crazy.”

“You think Robbie and Ryan are there?” asks Mulder.

“Somewhere on that block… It makes sense, right? Aside from the possibility that it's a power center, it's also the place where Ryan's parents died.” Jared gulps, his face white and rigid with fear. “It makes sense that they'd be lured there, right? If it started there… it makes sense that it would end there.”

It does make sense that it would be there. It almost makes too much sense; it's too perfect. Mulder can't help but wonder if this is all by design, if Jared is supposed to be drawn back to the scene of his crime the night that he gets out of prison; he can't help but wonder if they should leave him at home.

Scully hangs up the phone. “Deputy Jacobs seemed fine with us pursuing this lead,” she says, handing it back to Mulder. “Maybe even a little confident in it.”

“So they haven't found Robbie yet?”

“No, and he said there was no new leads,” says Scully. “He said he hasn't even heard from Sheriff O'Connell since he called to inform the department that Robbie was missing.”

---

The house being built on the property where Ryan's old apartment used to be is finally finished. It has a full structure, bricks and mortar and a roof. The wind whistles over the shingles as Ryan approaches it from the sidewalk, and he thinks involuntarily of the night of the seancé. Of the Ouija board bursting into flames.

He's too scared to go in. He knows he has to go in, but he's too scared to go in. Even with the knife. He'd stopped back by the house to get the knife—Annie was gone, presumably out looking for him—in a small attempt at self-defense, but he's worried that it's going to condemn him rather than save him. His uncle stabbed his parents, after all, right here. Right on this property.

His throat hurts, thick with fear, and his hands are shaking. He considers, briefly, just running away and calling the cops.

But no, he can't do that. That might get Mrs. Seers arrested, and he knows that this is not her fault. If she survives the night, she doesn't deserve to go to prison. And besides, there are no guarantees that the ghost won't just kill Robbie if the cops come. And he doesn't know that the cops can even stop the Specter.

It has to be him. He's the one it wants.

The door to the new house begins to move, creaking open excruciatingly slow, the hinges squeaking like they're fifty years old instead of just a couple months. There is no one behind it.

Ryan takes a deep breath and begins walking up the dirt-lawn to the house. He wonders when the property will be ready to sell, wonders if they'll tell the people who buy it what happened here. Everyone loves a good ghost story, he thinks bitterly. Everyone certainly loves this one, but nobody knows the details. The true story, here, is one that gets people killed.

He steps over the threshold and into the dark house. The door slams shut behind him, making him jump. He looks frantically in front of him, to either side, over both shoulders; he doesn't want to be caught off guard. But there is no one there.

Ryan takes a deep breath. “Hello?” he calls out, his voice trembling, and is instantly disgusted with himself. He doesn't need to resort to horror movie clichés, no matter how on edge he is. Where the hell are they? he thinks, gritting his teeth. He steps further into the front hall, walking towards the next room. It's furnished, albeit sparsely—by the real estate company, he assumes—and it looks cheesy as hell, but he's strangely grateful for the furniture, the corny decorations. It keeps this empty house from becoming his parents’ empty apartment, the empty rooms and the graffiti on the wall and the overturned crib in the nursery. A shiver runs sharply up his spine, and he shudders. He walks through another, sprawling room and finds nothing.

It's in the next room that he sees it: the two shapes lying on the ground, one large and one heart-stoppingly small. Ryan seizes his phone in quivering fingers and turns on his flashlight, shining it on the shapes. The faces snap into place: it's Robbie and the sheriff, the kid tucked securely under his father's arm. Neither one of them are moving, are alert.

Ryan's breath catches in his throat, and he rushes over to crouch beside them, letting it drop to the floor. “Robbie?” he whispers frantically, his voice rasping. “Robbie, can you hear me?” No answer.

Praying, frantically praying that he isn't too late, Ryan reaches down and presses two fingers to Robbie's pulse point in his neck. There it is, beating reassuringly strongly. Ryan breathes a sigh of relief, and checks the sheriff's pulse. Equally strong. They're both alive, but they're both unconscious, and Ryan has a feeling it's not a natural sleep.

He grips Robbie by his bony shoulders and begins to lightly shake him. “C'mon, Rob, wake up,” he whispers insistently. “You've gotta wake up.” But there's no response from Robbie; he's limp, his limbs flopping like a rag doll. “C'mon, kid,” he whispers, but Robbie's face stays still.

Ryan moves on to the sheriff, poking him hard in the arm; the guy's too bulky to shake. “Sheriff O'Connell?” he hisses. “Can you hear me? We gotta wake up, we gotta get out of here.”

A floorboard creaks behind him. Footsteps echo across the unfinished wood.

Ryan's breath catches in his throat. He fumbles instinctively for the knife tucked into the waistband of his pants, as bad as an idea as that may be. His fingers close around the handle just as it speaks.

It's the voice, the one that almost sounds like Mrs. Seers, but not quite. It's too far removed. It sounds like something else, something darker, something Ryan can't quite put his finger on. Something inhuman.

“Ryan,” it says. “I'm so glad that you're finally here.”

[oscopelabs]

Elvis, Truelove and the Stolen Boy: The Tragic Machismo of Nick Cassavetes’ ‘Alpha Dog’ by Amy Nicholson

[Last year, Musings paid homage to Produced and Abandoned: The Best Films You’ve Never Seen, a review anthology from the National Society of Film Critics that championed studio orphans from the ‘70s and ‘80s. In the days before the Internet, young cinephiles like myself relied on reference books and anthologies to lead us to films we might not have discovered otherwise. Released in 1990, Produced and Abandoned was a foundational piece of work, introducing me to such wonders as Cutter’s Way, Lost in America, High Tide, Choose Me, Housekeeping, and Fat City. (You can find the full list of entries here.) Our first round of Produced and Abandoned essays included Angelica Jade Bastién on By the Sea, Mike D’Angelo on The Counselor, Judy Berman on Velvet Goldmine, and Keith Phipps on O.C. and Stiggs. Today, Musings concludes our month-long round of essays about tarnished gems, in the hope they’ll get a second look. Or, more likely, a first. —Scott Tobias, editor.]

A decade before the presidency that elevated insults like “betacuck” and “soyboy” into political discourse, Nick Cassavetes made Alpha Dog, a cautionary tragedy about masculinity that audiences ignored. Time for a reappraisal. Alpha Dog is about a real murder. Over a three-day weekend in August of 2000, 15-year-old Zach Mazursky—in reality, named Nicholas Markowitz—is kidnapped and killed by the posse of 20-year-old San Fernando Valley drug dealer Johnny Truelove (Emile Hirsch) with a grudge against Zach’s older brother. No one thought the boy would die, not his main babysitter Frankie (Justin Timberlake), not the girls invited to party with “Stolen Boy,” and not even the boy himself, played with naive perfection by Anton Yelchin, who played video games and pounded beers assuming that his new captor-friends would eventually take him home.

Cassavetes’ daughter went to the same high school as Nicholas Markowitz. The murderers were neighborhood kids and he wanted to understand how fortunate sons with their whole lives ahead of them wound up in prison. The trigger man, Ryan Hoyt—“Elvis” in the film—had never even gotten a speeding ticket. Prosecutor Ron Zonen hoped the publicity around Alpha Dog would help the public spot the real-life Johnny, named Jesse James Hollywood, who was still on the lam despite being one of America’s Most Wanted. So the lawyers gave Cassavetes access to everything: crime scene photos, trial transcripts, psychological profiles, police reports, and their permission to contact the criminals and their parents. Cassavetes even took his actors to meet their counterparts, driving Justin Timberlake to a maximum security prison to get the vibe of the actual Frankie, and introducing Sharon Stone to Nicholas Markowitz’s mother, a broken woman who attempted suicide a dozen times in the years after her son's death.

Alpha Dog, pronounced Cassavetes, was “95 percent accurate.” Which was part of why it got buried, thanks to Jesse James Hollywood’s arrest just weeks after the film wrapped. Cassavetes hastily wrote a new ending to the movie, but his problems were just beginning. Hollywood’s lawyers insisted Alpha Dog would prevent their client from getting a fair trial, and used the threat of a mistrial to force Zonen off the case. “I don't know what Zonen was thinking, handing over the files,” gloated Hollywood’s defense team. “It was stupid.”

The publicity, and the delays, dragged out the pain for Markowitz’s family, especially when they heard Cassavetes had paid Hollywood’s father an, er, consulting fee. “Where is the justice in that?” asked the victim's brother. “This just goes on and on, and I’m spending my whole life in a courtroom.”

The film, too, was pushed back a year from its Sundance premiere. Despite casting a visionary young ensemble—Alpha Dog was my own introduction to Yelchin, Ben Foster, Olivia Wilde, Amanda Seyfried, Amber Heard, and the realization that Timberlake, that kid from N*SYNC, could actually act—no one noticed when it slid into theaters in January of 2007. It wasn’t just the bad press. It was that audiences couldn’t get past that Cassavetes’ last film was The Notebook. No way could the guy behind the biggest romantic weepy of a generation make something raw and cool.

But he had. Alpha Dog is a stunning movie about machismo and fate, two tag-team traits that destroy lives. Think Oedipus convincing himself he can outwit the oracle of Delphi. But Sophocles’ Oedipus telegraphs its intentions, elbowing the audience to see the end at the beginning. Greeks sitting down in 405 BC knew they were watching a tale that came full circle. Every step Oedipus takes away from his patricidal destiny just moves him closer to it.

If you map Alpha Dog’s script, instead of a loop, it looks like a horizontal line that plummets off a cliff. For most of its running time, Alpha Dog could pass for a coming-of-age flick where a sheltered kid with an over-protective mom (Sharon Stone) taps into his own self-confidence, right up until the scene where he tumbles into his own grave. Audiences who’d missed the news articles about the case weren’t clued into the climax. Cassavetes doesn’t offer any hints or flash-forwards, not even an ominous “based-on-a-true-story.” (The film might have been more successful if he had.) Instead, he lulls you into joining the kegger, watching Zach crack open beer after beer as though he expects to live forever. “There’s a movie sensibility that the film doesn’t conform to,” said Cassavetes. “You don’t watch this film. You endure it.”

As Zach, his eyes red-rimmed from bong rips, not tears, is shuttled between party dens and wealthy homes, he’s given several chances to escape. He’s even revealed to be a Tae Kwan Do blackbelt who can jokingly flip his captor-buddy Frankie (Justin Timberlake) into a bathtub. But Zach stays put—he doesn’t want to get his big brother Jake (Ben Foster) in more trouble, not realizing that Johnny is too busy making nervous phone calls to his lawyer and his aggro father Sonny (Bruce Willis) to get around to asking Jake for the $1200 in ransom money.

Zach’s death is disorienting, almost as if Psycho's Marion Crane got murdered in the second-to-last reel. In a minivan en route to his execution, he innocently tells Frankie he wants learn to play guitar. “It bugs me that I don’t know how to do anything,” he sighs. Meanwhile Johnny assures his dad that there’s no need to call off the killing. “These guys are such fuck-ups, nothing's gonna happen,” he shrugs, a rare example of cross-cutting that defuses tension in order to make the shock of the gunfire even worse. Up until the last second—even after Frankie binds him with duct tape—a sobbing Zach still can’t believe Frankie would hurt him, and honestly, Frankie can’t believe it himself. And Yelchin’s own early death makes you ache for him to get a happy ending, which Cassavetes dangles just out of reach.

This is how evil happens, says Cassavetes. Masterminds are rare. Instead, people like Frankie can be basically good, but can also be panicky and passive and selfish. Shoving Zach in Johnny’s van was an idiotic impulse by upper middle-class kids, who flipped out when they realized the snatching could get them a lifetime sentence. There’s no honor or glory in the violence. Johnny, the cowardly ringleader, talks tough, but orders his most craven friend, Elvis (Shawn Hatosy), to pull the trigger while he and his girlfriend Angela (Olivia Wilde) get drunk on margaritas. And after the murder, one side effect is that Johnny can’t get an erection. When Angela tries to get Johnny in the mood in their hideout motel, the walls close in on him, suffocating the mood.  

Away from his boys, Johnny is weak. Surrounded by them, he's the king. Alpha Dog sets up a culture of animalistic dominance. Johnny’s rental house is basically a primate cage at the zoo, only decorated with weight benches and Scarface posters. All of Johnny’s boys jockey to be his favorite and tear each other down in order to bump up their own rank. Kindness is weakness. When a fellow dealer with the ridiculous nickname Bobby 911 cruises by to negotiate a sale, he snarls at a guy who vouches for him: “You don’t need to tell him I’m good for it, man!”

Elvis, the future shooter, is the lowest member of the pack. He can’t ease into the group without Johnny ordering him to go pick up his pit-bull's poop in the backyard. Why do they pick on Elvis? He owes Johnny a bit of money, but the source of the scorn is simply group think. No one wants to be nice to the outcast, and Elvis is just too sincere to be taken seriously. When Elvis offers to get Johnny a beer, the guys tease him for being in love with Johnny. When he says sure, he does care about Johnny, they twist words into a gay panic joke. Elvis can’t win—they won’t let him—so he literally kills to prove his worth, and winds up sentenced to death row, where the real boy, just 21 at the time of the shooting, remains today. Another life wasted.

Cassavetes humanizes the killers because he wants us to understand how their micro decisions add up to murder. Not just the gunmen. Everyone’s a little to blame. The kids who got drunk with “Stolen Boy” and didn’t call the police. The girls who told Zach that being kidnapped made him sexy. Even Zach’s older step-brother Jake, an addict with a twitchy temper who escalates his war with Johnny to a fatal breaking point. Neither boy will back down over a $1200 debt, and there’s an awful split screen call when Johnny dials Jake intending to bring Zach home, but Jake is so boiling over with anger, his Bugs Bunny voice shrieking with outrage, that Johnny just hangs up the phone.

The opening credits, a montage of the cast’s own old home videos, underline that these were young and happy children—the kind of kids people point to as examples of the suburban American ideal. Over a treacly cover of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” we watch these real life boys being cultured to be brave: riding bikes, falling off dive-boards, running around with toy guns, going through the rituals of young manhood, from bar mitzvahs to karate lessons. Yelchin—recognizably dark-eyed and solemn even as a toddler—grins wearing plastic vampire teeth.

It takes another ten minutes for Yelchin’s character to sneak into the film sideways in a profile shot eating dinner with his parents, played by Sharon Stone and David Thornton. His Zach is barely even visible as brash Jake barges into the scene to beg for money. They say no, Jake stomps out, and Zach finally makes himself seen when he runs after his brother, begging to go anywhere less suffocating. Zach’s mom loves him so much that she watches him sleep. “I’m not fucking eight!” he yelps. He’s 15—practically a man, in his own imagination—and desperate to get away, even if it means mimicking Jake, a Jewish kid who’s so scrambled that he has a Hebrew tattoo on his clavicle and a swastika inked on his back. Jake starts to say that he wishes his own mom cared about him that much, but as soon as he gets vulnerable, he spins the moment into a joke. “Boo for me,” Jake grins, and takes another swig of beer.

“You could say it’s about drugs or guns or disaffected youth, but this whole thing is about parenting,” grunts Bruce Willis’ Sonny Truelove. “It’s about taking care of your children. You take care of yours, I take care of mine.” He’s half-right—his parenting is half to blame. Sonny and his best friend Cosmo (Harry Dean Stanton) taught Johnny to bully his friends. Cosmo, looking haggard and hollow, mocks Johnny for having one girlfriend. “You gotta plow some fucking fields,” he bellows. “Men are not supposed to be monopolous!” Not that “monopolous” is a real word, and not that Cosmo fends off women himself, except in his own big talk.

Cosmo and Sonny’s own posturing gradually emerges as being more dangerous than Johnny’s because it's more integrated into society. They’re the type of creeps who rewrite the rulebook to suit them, and attack journalists who try to tell the truth. When a fictitious documentarian asks Sonny about his son's drug connections, the father shrugs, “Did he sell a little weed? Sure.” But when the interviewer presses him further, Sonny snaps, “I’m a taxpayer and I’m a citizen and you are a jerk-off.”

Cassavetes, of course, understands growing up with a father who left a giant footprint to fill. His father, John Cassavetes, the writer-director of Shadows and Faces and A Woman Under the Influence, was one of the major pioneers of independent cinema. He died when Nick was 30, before his son attempted to take up his legacy. “We never really talked film theory,” said Cassavetes. “My experience with my dad was more along the lines of how to be a man, how to be yourself, how to free yourself from what society tells you to do, how to release yourself as an artist.”

It makes sense that Cassavetes would make his own ambitious, and maddeningly singular film. And perhaps it even makes sense to him that fate has yet to give him the reward he’s earned. Alpha Dog deserves to be acknowledged as one of the most incisive examinations of machismo and the banality of evil. But like his fumbling criminals, he knows he’s not really in charge of his life. Admitted Cassavetes, “I'm not smart enough to really have a master plan for my career.”

[littlemissnellie]

A strangled sob flew from Sabrina’s mouth before she could stop it and her tears broke through their barricades promptly afterwards. A couple stained her cheeks before she hurriedly wiped them away. She sniffed and tried to regain the composure she had lost so suddenly. Harry had watched every heart-breaking second, but she was still determined to go on without addressing it, as if it had never even happened. 

Harry reached a hand out towards her, but she flinched and shrunk backwards. 

Harry: “Sabrina, trust me. I didn’t want you to have to hear it this way, I really didn’t. But then again, I couldn’t let you go on, completely oblivious to all this. It’s not fair, especially when I know how much you care about him.”

Sabrina just stiffly nodded and sniffed, blinking away the remaining tears that still glistened in her eyes. Her heart felt as if it was being torn in two, but in slow motion. Every tendon pulled apart with an agonisingly 

Harry: “I promise I‘m not just saying this to try to mess with you and Ben, Sabrina. I just...I care about you, you know? Not in the way that you probably think after last time, but just...like a friend. A best friend. We spent the whole of high school with each other, the friendship we made and the connection we had, it can’t just be forgotten. You still mean a lot to me, ‘brina, and I really don’t want to have to watch some guy tear you to pieces because he’s a selfish idiot who just wanted some easy affection.”

The whole conversation tasted vile, leaving a bitter taste marinating on Sabrina’s tongue. Her chest felt tight, as if it was closing in around her heart in an attempt to protect it from any further breaks, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. A wave of heat flooded over her, causing a cold sweat to rise onto her skin and her heartbeat to flutter into a frantic rhythm. 

As stupid as Harry knew it sounded, from the way that she had paled and her breathing had sped up, he knew that he had to ask...

Harry: “A-are you alright?“

Sabrina couldn’t stand there another minute though. Even though she was outside, she felt like she needed more air. She felt trapped but lost, confused but horrifyingly certain... It was unbearable. And Harry’s pained expression, paired with his unnerving, comforting nature was all too much for her. 

He tried to take another step towards her, but she reached out her hand and pushed him away, dashing past him with her head down so that he couldn’t see the tears that had followed the others down onto her blotchy cheeks.

Harry: “Sabrina!“

Sabrina: “J-just bring out Maddie and Dylan, I want to go home.”

Harry: “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Sabrina: “Just get my kids, please.”

Harry: “But-”

Sabrina: “I don’t care about what else you could possibly have to say, Harry. Just please get me my children so that I can leave you in peace.”

And so, Harry silently turned to go back in the house, leaving Sabrina, shaking with anger, with tears falling from her eyes, stood in the driveway. Her gaze fixed on the rustling branches of a tree on the opposite side of the road, but her mind was fixed on the house to her right: her house, but more importantly, what monster laid inside.

[creamypalazzo]

oc ramblings again up ahead!! dont mind me

jose jovente’s best friend, khalil edmundo is an arabic-filipino rich kid who has a big thing for counting and numbers and takes care of his 9 siblings at home. his parents are all the way in manila because of work, and have to travel constantly so it was decided that khalil and a yaya be the ones running the house becase they trust him. or, so they think. it gets him riled up because he’s basically raising the kids and his sister happens to be the bane of it all because she’s 14 and angry (more on her later) and he’s always so paranoid of losing his siblings because he didn’t headcount enough. his protectiveness also is reflected in his friendship with jose, as in, while they’re both very close and stupid together khalil is aware that his anxiety is just very bad and treats him like a child because of it. he’s too used to children that he mostly knows how to comfort people in a way a parent would, and to jose it’s annoying. he likes basketball, is very smart and well liked in school, he also has a tendency to brag because, well, he’s rich, but other than that he’s typically nice until provoked. he is highly assertive and speaks out his thoughts, and so people tend to listen and follow him even if he sometimes spurs on bullshit for the sake of it.

his sister, malia edmundo, is 14 and as said, the absolute fucking bane of khalil’s existence simply because she’s sick of being a good kid. she’s learned to do a lot of bad shit but has never let khalil find out or else she’d be so fucking grounded, but other than that, much like him she also speaks her mind but this time doesn’t care about what everybody thinks. she’s very smart, possibly even smarter than khalil, but never puts effort in her academics. she gets in trouble constantly for dress code and insolence, but really doesnt find the need to care about it since it wouldnt really reap true consequences anyway. she likes boys A Lot and has the tendency to follow what “bad kids” do with her peers and other people, and she also does art but never really has the time to anymore. as much as she seems tough, however, she’s very vulnerable and hates having to react emotionally to things regarding her, especially when khalil yells at her for never listening. she’s sensitive and selfish, but she completely gives herself to people that she grows to like (jose and ben) and has terrible attachment issues considering how much she also misses their parents.

[radiantanor]

Ramblings about TLJ

Spoilers under the cut, obviously. A lot of this is not positive.

Good things first: There were some pretty cool scenes which I liked. The general atmosphere, planets, ships, costumes and so on, still felt like Star Wars.  

I loved that Leia used the Force in a way that was literally space-sky-walking and can't be denied as „oh she isn't force-sensitive“, and that they showed the connection between her and Luke (like when she woke up from her coma, or their reunion). I liked Hux being ridiculous or the looks the First Order officers exchange about Kylo - I think that is a good way to treat space fascists without making them seem less horrible than they are (ofc they couldn’t do that with Kylo).

The stampede and destruction of the rich war profiteer places on Rose's home planet was very satisfying to see (at least they freed the animals if not the children).

I liked Vice-Admiral Holdo, and BB8, and Finn, and a lot of other characters. Plus, I think most of the actors did great jobs.

Now the less good things:

I feel so upset about Luke Skywalker. I liked Mark Hamill's acting, but everything about the backstory, or his interaction with Rey and Chewie... I mean, how can anyone think that when Luke noticed some darkness in his nephew, his first instinct was to kill him in his sleep? Even with Vader, he first tried talking to his father and only fought when forced to – why would that be different when it comes to his nephew, someone he was much closer to. Especially since his attempt to help  his father worked, so by the time he was teaching Ben he should have been even more convinced of that approach.

And this has been said a lot already, but Luke should not have been running away for so long or being that unkind to Rey. I understand that he thought he had failed and blamed himself, but I am sure that at some point he would have decided to help the Resistance anyway.

The way he acted during the so-called „training“ with Rey was unpleasant to watch for me and not at all like the Luke Skywalker we know.

Yoda looked weird. Also, I disliked the whole scene – Luke not even being self-aware enough to decide whether he really wants to burn the Jedi stuff down or not before making the attempt is ridiculous. Why didn't Yoda come visit Luke earlier, anyway? A lot earlier?

Phasma was, once again, not as cool as promised. Though that does not compare to that way Snoke, set up as being sooo dangerous, just died.

Something about the whole „only the Resistance cares enough/is brave enough to fight the First Order“ thing bothers me, too. Their supposed allies do not try to help them, and apparently the entire Republic military was stationed at Hosnian Prime and destroyed in TFA, which does not make sense – there should at least have been small bases across the galaxy, and obviously they would have had to fight the First Order too.

The lack of some typical Star Wars species like Twileks or Togruta was strange, too.

I really wanted to like Rose, and for most of the film I did. But I just don't understand why she saved Finn at the end, and her reason was weird too – fighting the war by saving what you love instead of destroying what you hate does not make sense, considering that Finn was trying to save the Resistance remnant. At the beginning, she believed in loyalty to the Resistance and called Finn selfish for wanting to save Rey (even though he was not an official Resistance member and therefore not a deserter, so she did not have legal grounds to arrest him). Though I am very happy Finn survived, it was an action completely at odds with the way Rose acted at first. She had no idea that Luke would distract Kylo, or that the others would find another way out, which... might even be enough to make that action treasonous. The kiss pretty much came out of nowhere as well, they literally knew each other for a day or two at most.

I can only assume this was supposed to be character development. But it's the same thing as with Luke, it is based on an illogical premise so it makes no sense and does not feel like actual character development.

I probably would not have minded if Poe had been the one to impulsively save Finn, it seems more like the kind of thing he would do. Admittedly, he was almost too roguish and disobedient in this film – for someone who appears to respect Leia so much, he was refusing to follow her orders or trust that she knew what to do all the time. And the implication that he can be somewhat ruthless (does not seem to care very much about the death toll as long as their goal is achieved) could have been addressed better. I still loved him most of the time. (And I do understand why he thought Holdo was wrong at first, since he did not know what she was doing.)

And there were so many weird things about Finn’s and Rose’s mission: first they attract too much attention and don’t even reach the person they wanted, except that guy might have refused to help them anyway because why should he, then they find a code-breaker who is just as good by chance - I know the Force can work like that but it still feels off somehow.

And of course, I dislike the amount of Reylo. I don't hate that ship as much as I used to, but I still would prefer if it was not hinted at so much. Why does Rey want to help Kylo so much anyway? She goes very quickly from believing that he is a monster to being willing to risk everything to save him, and I don't see why she would be so quick to change her mind, especially since Kylo is not even a family member. Traveling to the First Order was such a bad, stupid decision too. I don't know why Chewbacca and R2 did not have more to say (or do) about that, but then they were generally sidelined in this film.

Or the revelation of Rey's parentage – I might have held out hope that Kylo had been lying, but they literally tore apart the Skywalker legacy lightsaber right after (and after it was set up so much in TFA that feels like being tricked) so it will probably be the truth. Normally, I have zero issues with heroes not needing any special ancestry to be heroes, but in this case I really want Star Wars to have a Skywalker hero or heroine. It's not as if there weren't enough other heroes.

Oh, and I suppose now we know that whatever brainwashing Snoke may have subjected Ben to still let him stab Snoke without much difficulty or Snoke even noticing because he was busy monologuing. Compared to Vader finally deciding to save Luke from the Emperor, that moment really falls flat.

Technology: I'm not sure if tracking ships in hyperspace really is impossible. I mean, you can at least calculate where the ship might have jumped from its vector, or there can be a spy or a tracker on the tracked ship that could be disabled. Also, I don't know how a collision with a ship traveling through hyperspace did not destroy the whole First Order ship. Or why Holdo did not do the hyperspace jump sooner, since she was already planning to die. And can just one person really pilot such a big ship alone? Of course, technology in Star Wars is not required to be „realistic“ anyway.

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Winner’s Curse Ch. 13

Super excited for this one. Lots of references to characters from the Aladdin series. Enjoy. 

Jay glanced around at the muddy, deserted streets and was amazed by how quickly he was able to shift back to alert Isle mode. The mode that was prepared for a surprise attack at any moment whether from Uma’s pirate crew or some person angry that he stole their goods once again.

It was like a tourney reflex that he honed in from months of practice only it was deeper than that. It was instinctive.

He would always be from the Isle. That would never change.

And when he had been feeling it more and more during this week with the Auradonians.

Before this whole “Save Auradon (for the third time) from the Isle,” Aziz and Jordan tolerated him. Aziz was kinda moody around him even though he swore he had no problem that their dads had been enemies, but sometimes when they’d hang out with the rest of the team, Aziz would pull him away and show him around Little Agraban. 

Jordan usually acted less than pleased to be his presence and always sniped about his sticky fingers even though he stole her lamp just one time. How was he supposed to know that it was her lamp. He didn't even know genies could have kids. And okay, maybe he was a bit curious to see if it would work. But that incident sealed her view of him, he was a deceitful no good thief.

Now they acted like he was only Jafar Jr. in their eyes. It made him miss Evie, Carlos and Mal. They would have his back if they were here. 

Even the Vks.. oh Allah when did he start calling them “Vks?” He always used to think of himself as just from the Isle.

Even the Isle kids they had teamed up with disliked him. 

He had never liked Harry or Uma and their crew, and their hostilities only grew when he stood by Mal and their friends. 

He didn’t need to hear Uma’s side of the whatever sob story grudge she had against Mal, he was sticking by his dragon girl. No matter what. She had his back and he had hers. 

Uma was just a power-grabber, always trying to edge on Mal’s rightful territory. Hopefully Jordan was seeing that now for herself. People always ignored him when it came to strategizing and plans but he knew a thing or two about people.

Who to manipulate, who to avoid, who to charm, who to steal from. And any plan with Uma was bound to fail. She’d always try to take power for herself.  As for Lala...He had met her a few times before when their parents hooked up. He asked her if she was worried their future half sibling would become her mom’s favorite and she shrugged, saying that she doubted it. La treated her children as more of a mini hunting squad; food providers now she no longer had leopard men. 

Jay understood all too well. Jafar wanted him to earn his food by stealing whatever trinket he could for the shop. Or even stealing food itself. But no matter how much he stole or what he stole, it was never the “big score” that would make his father proud of him. Or care about him. 

But Lala didn’t want to bond on that commonality. She always seemed to look down on him for stealing his dinner from others rather than hunting food down with his bare hands.

And okay, maybe he stole several of her weapons too. 

So? He didn’t know what Queen La preached but he had been following his dad’s mantra that “There was no team in “I.” 

That it was best to only serve himself and make sure everyone loses but the more time he spent in Auradon, he realized something. That even though he believed his own boasts as the most selfish, bad guy on the Isle, he never had been. 

His friendship with the others had excluded him from the title from the start.

And now he wished he had his friends by his side. He missed having the security of backup and people who understood what it was like on the Isle.

He looked at his two partners from his peripheral eyesight. Jordan had healed Aziz’s back but she was still checking him and Aziz was swatting her hands away, bickering in Arabic.

Jay clenched his fist to ignore the rise of frustration that welled up in his chest. They knew Arabic, they knew things like mathmatics and science and history and so many other things that some of the Aks looked down on him for when he asked his “stupid” questions in class.  

All he had were his father’s stories.

There were so many differences between them because of fate. Their parents, where they were born. It was all so unfair.

He knew Jordan and Aziz’s intentions were probably good, having the villains take over Auradon would be no treat, especially since some were pretty pissed that his friends hadn’t gotten them off during Ben’s Coronation as they had said they would. 

But Aziz and Jordan didn’t truly understand. Once this was over, they would go back to their plush lives as if nothing had happened.

Which he had been doing as well up till now.

Another thing he couldn’t help notice beside reverting to his Isle mode were the kids. He hadn’t noticed them before. But even though he didn’t usually listen to Evie’s Isle proposals, some of her speeches slipped into his head.  

He looked at the few children he had seen that were brave enough to roam the streets despite the Coven’s strict law. Many of them were about searching through trash cans for food. Looking for one unspoiled apples among the leftovers or daring each other to eat the most rotten. 

He remembered he used to do that with Gaston’s son, bragging that he could eat anything no matter how foul tasting or disgusting it was. It had given him food poisoning more than once, but he had been proud of himself for not complaining about it like a man.

Lady Tremine’s 3 year old grandson would be able to boast the same, Jay thought as he saw the bob-ponytailed boy run away with a bundle of molded bananas.

It wasn’t just the food that was the problem. The dirt and the hygine was seriously lacking. Something he hadn’t realized until he got to Auradon and Couch Jenkins required the team to take showers after practice. He had just stood in amazement as he looked at all the dirt swirl down and eventually clogged the drain.

When he got sick on the Isle, he had learned not to complain. Many parents didn’t tolerate whining about a “little sniffle” even if that sniffle turned out to be a raging fever. Every year there was always some bunch of kids that ended up being buried on the shores of the Isle.

He could sort of understand why Uma and Evie were so determined to get kids off it. While he had been fine living here, proud of himself for surviving so long, Auradon really was a better place to live and these kids deserved to get that chance.

But Jordan and Aziz had been so concerned about infiltraiting the Coven, they had been neglecting Evie’s list and he doubted that they would give it priority so it was left to him to find them. He doubted the others would mind, he had a feeling that Jordan would be oh too happy to be rid of his presence for a couple of hours. 

He knew Diego De’Vil was on the list but he lived on the other side of the Isle where the more livable houses were instead of the shacks that lined the alleyways and docks. As for the others he would have to check the list again. 

But Jordan took the list….

Oh this was going to be too easy.

Jay fell at their feet bracing himself for impact as they fell over him like dominos and ecieving a nasty kick to his ribs in the meanwhile. Hands scrambling, he felt around Jordan’s skirt for any pockets but couldn’t find any.

Did Jordan give the list to Aziz? Jay couldn’t remember but it would be just-

“Hands off the ass!” “Sorry, sorry, I tripped. Dude, get-aack- get your foot off my neck.” Jay mumbled when his face was suddenly pressed against the dirt.

“My foot is nowhere near your neck.”

“Well someone’s is!”  

With some shoves, and dirt swirling from the wind picking up, they managed to get themselves all upright again.

Jay rubbed his head, surprised by how woozy he felt from the “accidental trip.” He must be getting rusty.

“We’re not getting anywhere like this.” Aziz snorted derisively, “We should probably split up. We’re too intimidating all together.” “You intimidating? Ha!” Jordan barked.

“Well it’s not like you’ve been having good ideas lately.” Aziz retorted.

“He’s right.” Jay cut in before another “boiling” incident could happen, “We usually stick to gangs on the Isle for safety. People will approch us if we’re alone. Or targte us so you better hold your weapons close.” Jay gripped his scimitir for emphesis.

“Got it. You go that way, I’ll go this way.” Jordan pointed to the point where they had come and motioned for Aziz to keep moving forward. She didn’t give Jay any directions. Figured. So Jay decided to go to the alleyways.

He closed his eyes as he did so, secretly congratulating himself every time he brushed past a wall or a person without hitting it. He knew this place with his eyes closed. 

“Jayal, my son.” A voice slithered from behind him and Jay nearly tripped forward for real.

“Jay. You’ve gotten soft in Auradon haven’t you.” The voice mocked, his shadow looming over Jay’s on the ground.

“Hello, Dad” Jay turned to his back and looked up.

His dad looked nothing like he remembered. Gone was the beer belly, and tattered pajamas. He was no longer stooped with age and ill health. He looked like the picture of his glory days.

Jay never saw how his father could be seen as sinister. Patheticness and desperation reeked his appearance on the Isle but now he could.

Skinny as a cobra, the thin mustache and curled lips gloated as Jay looked up to his father. The turban’s glowing ruby kept blinding him as the lamp lights hit it and the pointed shoulders of his outer robe reminded Jay of all his dad’s threat of stabbing Aladdin and the rest of the royal family to death once he was back on the throne.  

In hand, Jafar held his staff, now shimmering with magic that had been untapped until now. 

“Get up you miserable whelp.” Jafar hit his legs with the staff, urging Jay to get up quickly. “Miserable whelp?” His dad never called him that. But then again from the slghtly blissful crazed look in his eye, he bet his dad was already drunk on power.

“Well, Jay, come to take me to Auradon a year too late?” Jafar sarcastically asked, catching Jay’s chin with his staff and drawing to him.

Jay felt himself at a loss of what to say and fear started to trail down his spine. “Well Jay?”

Jay knew what he would have done if any of his friends were to face their parents. He would stand between them and protect them from Maleficent’s scorn and Queen Grimhilde’s criticsm and Cruella’s abuse.

He’d bring those villains down with his fists, killer tourney moves, and whatever weapon he had in hand. Improvising weapons had been one of his more unusual yet necessary skills while growing up.  Besides those three adults made him furious. Why did they think their abuse would make their kids better? They were just bitter about how their lives turned out, they used their kids as punching bags. Or a tool that if one achieved victory, they achieved victory without doing the work. 

He had seen too many times Mal having near panic attacks about not living up to her mom’s perfect ideals, Evie’s meltdowns over a stray pimple and Carlos’ withdrawn demenour after a brutal evening alone with his mom.

Back then, he had seen what theit parents did to them, and Jay had done nothing.

He had told himself it wasn’t his fault. They hadn’t asked him too, they never went into detail about what happened behind the closed doors of their home. They were Vks, they were expected to suck up and deal with the tough love.

But he regretted it now. He had seen their pain and he hadn’t even asked them how it felt. It was too mushy, too personal but he still should have done something. 

Damnit he had gotten bloody noses taking on Uma’s crew for messing with his friends in their somewhat superficial feud brought on by a child’s prank. But when it came to the real abuse. He did nothing. Yet they still thought of him as their “big brother.” Some big brother he was. He didn’t deserve that affection. He didn’t earn it after doing nothing. Just like Jafar said. Why would anyone care for you if you were a miserable parasite. That’s why he had to do his share and get goods for the store. Then he deserved some food. 

However the whole situation was different when it came to facing his own father and how he treated him. He didn’t feel anger towards him like Mal sometimes did at night. He didn’t feel complete terror as Carlos always feared his mother. 

He had never thought of seeing his father again and had no idea what he’d do. 

Jafar wasn’t the worst parent on the Isle he thought. He never hit him outright except for one time when he had gotten really furious at Jay for bringing nothing home and threw random objects. Some accidentally hitting him on the head. 

He didn’t criticize his looks like Evie’s mom or expected him to be the baddest villain on the Isle like Maleficent.

Jafar didn’t expect much of him except to bring the money.

Jafar didn’t care if he got beaten on his runs from other gangs. He wouldn’t have noticed until the end of the day when Jay didn’t come with the money. He would look past Jay’s scars and bruises and Jay would sometimes wonder if the blood he felt trickling down his nose was even visible for how little Jafar cared.

Though the one confirmation Jay had that Jafar did see Jafar see his scars was during the the few arguments where Jay rebelled against his dad. Jay would threaten to walk out and hoard his ill-gotten gains for himself if he didn’t get his fair share, Jafar would point out the bruises Jay had gotten from a fight before and remind him that he wouldn’t survive long fighting everyone on the streets. He should be thankful to his dad. Jafar him a home when he could have stayed at the brothel with his mom to die. He helped create him. He owed him his life. 

Jay would concede that his dad was right and lay down under the tvs and try to ignore Jafar’s continued ranting. On that topic of Jay owing him his life, he should be bringing in more money. He knew Jay could get the big score so why was he always failing?

Yet despite how little Jafar cared for him. Demeaned him that he wouldn’t survive on his own. Gave him enough scraps of encouragement that he could steal bigger and better things that Jay would stick around. 

Jay still cared about his dad. Because as much as he hated to admit it, he did. He owed him his life, and he had hated to see his father walk around his junk shop in pajamas and rant about his glory days to Iago. He had thought that if he could just get that big score that maybe he could fix his father’s tattered life. He could be proud again and proud of Jay. Praise him for bringing his power back into his life instead of being a burdensome child and then…

Well that was where the fantasy ended. He didn’t know what would happen after the big score because he could never imagine it being possible. He could see himself swimming in piles of gold but he always knew it was a fantasy in his head. Not a future.

And since he’d been in Auradon, he had tried his best to ignore the nagging feeling that this was his chance to make his father proud, that he could finally be the “Crown prince of Agrabah he should be.” Jafar didn’t deserve Jay’s effort to earn his respect. Jay didn’t “owe” him his life.

He realized, even if he gave Jafar the seat of Agrabah, all the gold would never be enough. Jafar would still send him to fetch more. For him to steal something he could really be proud of. That Jay had to continue being useful in other ways, keep up his skills, get more and more gold.    He’d never earn his father’s approval. All those years he spent trying..... That’s what angered him the most. He, the famed silver tongue prince of thieves of the Isle, fell for his father’s lie that there was a chance he could win his approval and maybe even love. And he had wasted 16 years of his life for him. 

Jafar dropped Jay’s chin and threw his head back with a cackle, dirt swirled around him, transforming his skinny figure into a slender, black furred cat-man in Egyptian-styled robes.

Jay covered his eyes from the flying dirt and scowled, “You!”

He lunged to grab him by the throat but all he gripped was vanishing smoke.

“Over here, Jay.” The voice purred

Jay turned and punched at thin air.

“Whoops, wrong one. That one was an-”

“Illusion.” The two said together.

Jay looked up to follow the sound of the voice and felt the ground give way beneath him like quicksand.

Jay���s eyes searched frantically for a branch, something to hold onto but then took a deep breath and exhaled. He wasn’t really drowning. There was no quicksand on the Isle streets. It was just another illusion.

He opened his eyes to confirm his belief that he was safe and saw the Isle streets had completely disappeared. He was facing a dark iron laden wall dripping with moisture and cells lining the wall to his left.

“Huh where am?” Jay looked around wildly and found himself tied to a chair, Aziz and Jordan tied to his back as well.

“Hmm he didn’t panic about the quicksand. It’s always so disappointing when they don’t scream.” The teenage cat mock-whimpered to the female twin that appeared beside him.

“I know. But we still have time. All the time in the world. I can’t wait till Staqauit gets his hands on them.” The girl smiled, her fangs gleaming against the darkness of the room and the blackness of her fur. 

“Illusion, Chimera.” Jay growled, fighting against the iron shackles that bound him.

“Oh don’t act so surprised that we’d mess with you. You should have seen yourself when you saw your father hehe! You were like a statue. All frozen and mute!” Illusion swiped his beanie to condescendingly ruffle his hair and then pulled the communications earpiece Carlos had gifted him from his ear and crushed it between her claws.

Though they didn’t physically look the part, these two were one of the most dangerous creatures on the Isle. Near gods. They were the children of Evil Incarnate. 

They escaped entrapment by virtue of the fact that no one dared to enter their mother’s cosmic void, Morbia. But they did visit from time to time. They enjoyed all of the Isle’s backstabbing, thieving, immorality, and of course, evilness. 

“Yeah we kinda figured the connection. Cat people with the powers of socercery and illusions. Of course you’re Mirage’s children. But seriously, Illusion? Chimera? Oh please tell me you have a third sibling named Hallucination. It’ll really tie up the theme naming.” Aziz mocked.

“Continue your brave little prince act…. I dare you.” Illusion walked over to Aziz’s side, disappearing from Jay’s view but he coud hear Aziz grunt and the familar sound of claws against skin and Jordan tense up beside him. 

“Though we’ll admit, we didn’t do this just for the sake of evil.” Chimera buffed her nails on Jay’s shoulder as she settled on Jordan’s lap, “We wanted to create a little family reunion. Jay with his dad.”

“The prince with his uncles and cousin.” Illusion continued, “And the genie with her new master.”  

“Isn’t that such a good deed? Maybe we’ll even be invited to come to Auradon.” Chimera cackled.

Jay tried to work his finger to find some sort of knot or chain to undo but there was no use. With Chimera and Illusin in the room, he doubted he would have a chance when they could literally change the landscape in an instant. 

His frustration at their predicament grew alongside the still-mounted anger he had for himself at being duped by Illusion. And the greater anger that he had come face to face with who he had thought was his father and he had done nothing but stare. 

He wanted to hit something, make them burn like the anger burned inside him... Wait that was an idea! 

Jay nudged Jordan’s shoulder and tried to mouth for her to do the boiling trick she had to Uma as best as he could but Chimera just glared at him and Jay switched to give his best smolder in return.

"Antiqam!!!” Illusion called and the door slammed open to reveal a tall, tan man drapped in flowing blue robes studded with ambers and onyxes and desert diamonds and sporting a five o’clock shadow.

“Hello, cousins, genie.” Antiqam smiled. His face was warm but his silver eyes were cold and focused and that lied the greatest danger.

During the few Aladdin-haters club meetings back in the day, His father had always warned Jay to not go near Mozonroth or his son which honestly, he didn’t need any warning.

Antiqam was a good 8 years older than Jay and had the physique to match. But it wasn’t the muscle that scared Jay, no, wits beat muscle any day, it was just that Antiqam was manipulative as he was strong and had an unpredictable temper. 

The dangerous part though wasn’t when Antiqam would snap but how. Antiqam could vanquish you in a swift blast of heat or he could arrange for a slow torture by manipulating you to ruin your own life.

But despite the danger, Jay had to ask, “Cousins?”

Hey, just because his life was in peril, it didn’t mean he had to act like it. That was one of the foremost rules of the Isle and thievery, never let them see you sweat.  

“Oh Jay, you don’t know? Besides being cousins to the insufferable soon to be ex- prince over here, you and I are distantly related. I am Antiqam iban Mozonroth iban Cassim and Nasira. Your…” Antiqam prompted.

“Aunt. Aunt Nasira is your grandmother?” Jay stared, suddenly gripped by a headache. He never really knew his aunt’s age or his father’s. It didn’t matter much since villains seemed to pop up from the dead like woodwork or achieved immortality somehow, but this was a new revelation.

“Yes! And Cassim is the princy boy’s grandfather. So you two are my baby cousins. And you are my new genie. Well my father’s. Then mine. We planned it all out. Your father will go to Jafar, and your mother to Nasira. It’s so nice that there’s three of you. Makes splitting things up easier.” Antiqam smirked. 

“We live to serve to make things easier for you.” Jordan bitterly smiled. 

“Eventually you’ll go to my little brother and his family. My heirs will be inheriting bigger things, more servants since they’ll be the ones ruling the Black Sands and the kingdom of Agrabah.” Antiqam held out his hand and Illusion obediently gave him Jordan's lamp. “So we’re all one big family. I mean once we execute half of it. Starting with the crown heir.” Antiqam slipped out of Jay’s view again to Aziz’s side.

“Yeah, sorry to disappoint you but I’m not the crown heir. I’m the second in line.” Aziz cockily corrected.

“Uhh I think there might be a problem with that if my father rules Agrabah.” Jay couldn’t help but add when Antiqam was about to speechify again, much to Antiqam’s annoyance, “I mean not that any you’ll ever will get to rule Agrabah. We won’t let you get away with this.”

Antiqam leaned down so they could look eye to eye and stared at Jay’s defiant ones, holding his gaze until Jay reluctantly broke his. “Heh, that is up to discussion. We haven’t exactly planned the boundries yet but Jafar and Nasira won’t live forever. And you and Jade can always be deposed of.”

“Or be used as servants.” Jordan piped up earning her a confused look from Imran.

“What? Seriously?” Jay cried. He knew she didn’t like him but really? To immediately backstab him the moment they were in trouble! And Aks said they were bad.

“Jafar came to the Isle as a genie bound to a lamp. You can always use him as your genie if he doesn’t do what you want. So you’ll have that as blackmail.” “And then I won’t have a reason to use you. Is that what youre getting at? Don’t think so.” Antiqam finished and dipped his finger in the dip between her breasts, smirking as she cringed, “Jafar’s lamp is in the hands of his sister and even if I wanted a genie, I would still choose you. I think we both know why.”

“What about Jafar’s crotch? It could be good. We don’t know. We haven’t seen it. Maybe it’s a diamond in the rough, it’ll take you to a whole new world.” Jordan blurted.  

Jay felt himself growing queasy and vainly pressed his ears to his shoulders in an effort to will away that sentence and image. Antiqam backed away, his look of disgust giving way to amusedly shaking his head, “You are definitely a genie. Always talking about the most inane subjects.” 

“To be fair my mom has speculated on your dad’s crotch so it might be genetic. Mainly about him compensating...” “Jordan!” Aziz shouted.

“I’m nervous.” Jordan cringed, “But you’re right, I should gag myself right now. That-That would probably be a good idea.”

Antiqam laughed outright, “This is too easy. I mean that little side-tangent about crotches was disturbing. But still. My own gorgeous annoying phenomenally cosmic genie! No one will ever be in my way and I can assure you, you will soon see I have nothing to compensate for.”

Whatever Antiqam was about to say next was interrupted by the sound of a door creaking open. They all whipped their heads around to see who had entered and saw Jafar with his sister, Nasira and her daughter, Jade.

Jay looked to the two cat dieties. It would be just like them to create another illusion just to add to the psychological and emotional pain but neither looked devious. They looked anticipatory just like cats eyeing the canary to see who would make the first move. The cat pouncing or the canary flying.

Jay gulped. It must mean this was truly his father, he could tell by the irritated look on his face that Jay had seen most of his life. The same furrowed brown and frown that seemed to pull down the rest of his face. Aunt Nasira stood by him like a second command which was unusual since Aunt Nasira and his dad had a falling out a few years ago but he supposed they reunited once the opportunity came to seize Agrabah. Jade stood behind her mother looking pityingly at him which was.. different. Everything about her looked different actually. Jade wasn’t wearing her scratched and worn leather pants and faded purple crop top but a flowing violet abaya with diamonds, rubies, sapphires and bloodstones adorning the collar like the ones he saw the Sultana and Aziz’s sisters wear on TV. She had completed the look with an opulent jade and gold choker and matching head-chain, looking every bit a princess as those that attended Auradon Prep. 

He and Jade has always got along, always teased and got on each other’s nerves. She used to be his partner in pickpocketing before their parent’s fell out though that didn’t stop them from getting similar tattoos on his 13th birthday. His was a cobra striking to the left and hers was a coiled viper looking to the right. Both were on their lower backs so if they stood next to each other, it looked like the snake tattoos were about to fight. The tattoo fit her. She was as fierce and vicious as a viper or more accurately, her mom. 

Although they never had a close bond like he did with his friends, he also considered her as someone to count on. Their relationship was different than that with Mal, Evie and Carlos. While their differing personalities contrasted yet melded to somehow work as an awesome team, he and Jade were so similar they were often mistaken for fraternal twins and not just because of their similar looks. 

A day didn’t feel quite right if he went without talking with at least one person from his gang but he and Jade could go for months without talking and pick up again like nothing. She was someone to go to hang out and relax. Compare notes on what they imagined Agrabah to be like. 

They didn’t have a touchy feely relationship. He couldn’t remember the last time he really touched Jade beyond fighting back to back with her or flicking her on the forehead compared to the numerous hugs Evie pulled him into or Carlos jumping into his arms. Jay knew he would never have to protect her like he did with the others because Jade could handle people herself. She didn’t need him and she’d proudly boast of the fact. 

They didn’t get emotional with each other or talk about their feelings, it was only fun and games between them. They didn’t give pitying looks. Jade was too tough for that. 

So if she was looking at him that pityingly….

Jay watched warily as Jafar strode towards him, his arm so outstretched it looked like the staff was leading the way. The staff that he had stared at every night before he went to bed, thinking of his dad’s stories of its mind control powers.

Jay vaguly registered his father’s “Jayal, my son.” He thought he heard Illusion cackle saying, “That’s what I said! I got it right.” He might have heard Jade murmur something. And there was some echo about remembering there was no “I” in team. But he didn’t see anything.

All he could see was the staff’s bright ruby eyes. Those tantalizing glowing eyes that must have been in the Cave of Wonders for it gleamed and shined like the thousands and millions of jewels and treasures and gold that was said to be there. It was so tempting, so mesmerizing.

He couldn’t look away.