#evidently we find out deep in his evil black little soul he did want SOME kind of connection and normalcy

[todayisafridaynight]

Loving all the Mine chat today! In a world where neither of them have Daigo to fixate on (for whatever reason) what do you think interactions between Mine and Masato/Aoki would be like? All your comics have them obv pitted against one another (always gives me a giggle gotta say!!) but I'm curious bout your thoughts on them/their potential interactions if Daigo wasn't part of the equation. I think they could be so evil together in whatever capacity. Real "I could make him worse" territory.

Sorry if this is a bit silly (I know removing Daigo removes a lot of other things too) I just love listening to you talk about guys ™️ lmao

i am a renowned Guy(TM) Talker this is a fair thing to assert

BUT honestly they'd probably like. not be friends or Sincerely get along but they'd probably use each other one way or another if given the opportunity: aoki wanting to exploit mine's skills, knowledge, and wealth, all the while mine At Least keeping an eye on aoki's influence (and if he wanted to do his homework probably keep tabs on the arakawas) and considering if it'll have potential use down the line. it's not like it's hard to imagine them having similar ideologies or morals either

mine'd absolutely loathe aoki's pride in his philosophy tho- even if it does align with his own somewhat LMAO

[zishustits]

oooooh ship bingo! i recently heard about these two concepts and would love to hear your take: ye baiyi and lan xichen, and xie'er and lan xichen <3

Oohhh okay, first I have to say I'm not actually into crossovers BUT let's forget about that for a little bit, these concepts are interesting.

First, Ye Baiyi and Lan Xichen. Let's see what they have in common.

They are both high skilled cultivators, very relevant figures in their respective societies.

They share common values such as righteousness, compassion, honor, service without waiting for anything in return, even kindness (more explicit in Lan Xichen).

They are not rigid in their principles though. Both acknowledge that most of the times you cannot judge a person as bad or good, nor a situation as black or white. They have struggled with it sometimes (i.e. Ye Baiyi considering whether he should kill Wen Kexing or not after knowing he's the chief of Ghost Valley, while also being aware of the difficult circumstances that led him to become that evil figure, which are indirectly related to YBY as Rong Xuan was his disciple. Also Lan Xichen caught between the evidence that Meng Yao has committed very wrong deeds and the kindness he has known from him)

Both have lost their loved ones forever.

Both have a tendency for retirement and solitude.

Apart from that, LXC has this noble and respectable aura that makes people feel calm and reassured when he's around, like if there's any problem it's okay, LXC probably knows how to solve it, he's diplomatic, also he will protect his people from danger, always keeping that composed calmness that's inherent to him (even if there's inner turmoil).

Now I consider, Ye Baiyi is very similar too, think of those scenes in the first episodes of WoH, when he gave Gao Chong the token of honor, then at the second Heroes Conference when everyone turned to him as a guide for what to do with the Ghost Valley issue, and also when WKX and ZZS fell from the bridge Cheng Ling felt reassured having YBY to help him. People feel relieved when he's around to lead them and solve problems.

So now, if LXC and YBY met I think they'd be a good match, like they would sense the similarities of their souls, especially the influence they have on others, now I can't find the words, but it's related to the righteousness and the high moral values and elevated cultivation they have achieved. Also they would perceive the isolation that comes with being far from the mortal realm for so long (for Ye Baiyi) and with being an important figure of the cultivation society that also has lost someone who was very important to him (in the case of LXC).

I believe they'd connect easily, like oh I recognize you, you are similar to me. And also they would enjoy learning from each other, YBY has reached the most elaborated martial arts skills and LXC is outstanding in musical cultivation (or whatever name it is). They see each other as equals and no one feels less than the other.

However, I think Ye Baiyi would break all of the Lan rules XD and be upset all the time, like why can't I just sit on the roofs at night to watch the stars while drinking alcohol? But as LXC is the Gusu leader (I think? Can't remember what he was at the end of The Untamed) and he is far from strict as LQR was, he would ignore it. In fact, I think he knows most of the rules are outdated and unnecessary, so they just keep following the rules that are actually related to master one's discipline, being righteous, respecting your elders and seniors and being kind to your sworn brothers and so on.

They might cultivate together. Keep each other company even as they are just sitting there in meditative contemplation or just enjoying the silence. Talk about ancient knowledge.

As for the type of relationship, I don't actually think it would be of romantic or sexual nature, like they were devoted to one partner in the past (probably more platonically than anything, at least on YBY part) and seem to me the kind of people that does not engage with anyone else after his companion has died, at least in the same way, like sometimes it's hard to reach the same level of deep connection with someone else. That doesn't mean they could not forge a close relationship, but to me it's not the same vibe as xiyao or rongye (or whatever the name of this ship is).

Following the bingo classification, I'd say Best friends, or Qplatonic at most. Also I'm intrigued to know what other kind of relationship people think they could develop. If you want to share with me, I'd love to know your ideas!!

Okay, probably for the next one I'll try to write less because I realized how long this is getting (it's just a bingo, please brain!!!), and I should finish some college stuff buut it's not less interesting to me I swear!!

So Xie'er and LXC. First, I think LXC would be aware of the good that's in Xie'er and his potential, mostly his inexhaustible willpower and determination, which have been until now directed towards, let's say, flawed goals? All that energy and intelligence wasted on another man's dream. It's unacceptable!!

The principal thing that comes to my mind and that struck me since Xie'er first appeared was the he seems to know who is everyone, like he saw ZZS and WKX together for the first time and he thought, why are the former leader of the Window of Heaven and the chief of Ghost Valley together wtf? While everyone else was like oh, two righteous wanderers, never heard of them before. Xie'er clearly knows how to obtain the right information, he has the mind of a researcher, and that could be put to good use.

Also Xie'er knows a lot about venoms and their antidotes, is that not another relevant and useful skill he has??? Again here, he is a researcher, as for instance he discovered the cure to the Meng Po soup was Drunk like a dream. Furthermore, he probably knows a lot about survival, hiding, disguising himself, being a shadow amongst shadows, fighting (especially dirty tricks), and leadership skills. He also has some knowledge on magic tricks (with the Drug men) that could be the simile to demonic cultivation.

All this knowledge and abilities could be put to good use, not to achieve other's goals, but to help people, for example, finding a cure to their poisoning or demonic possession (or whatever), instructing others on different facts that could be useful if they need to hide from a threat, survive in the wild for some time, coming alive from a fight with a nasty opponent an so on.

I mean, I haven't mentioned LXC until now but let's assume he is aware of everything about Xie'er's skills that I have described. Also, he realizes Xie'er has a good soul, it's something you can see right away if you spend a minimum of time with him. He has shown it with actions too, for instance, when he released Liu Qian Qiao and his lover, also that scene after the battle at mount Qingya (I'm still crying about Cao Wei Ning and Gu Xiang, my poor babies ;~;) when he left WKX and ZZS go (although he had a sword to his neck gssbsbsbsb), and of course everything he did for Zhao Jing, out of his love and affection for him.

Okay, he has done bad deeds, but he has kindness in him. A kindness that has not actually been nurtured but has developed there anyways. He has a tendency to serve others, that we see mostly with his yifu. Those are important values that might be developed and focused to actions that make an improvement on people's lives, and probably on Xie'er's own.

And LXC is determined to do that. Like he sees Xie'er's efforts to serve others because it's something that comes naturally out of him, but realizes it needs to be properly acknowledged as no one has done that before (we only got to see him do things for his yifu, who rarely showed any gratefulness for it, and only this time with Qian Qiao she almost got to say something nice to him, but Xie'er turned away swiftly, like he is not used to receive positive feedback on his good actions at all, so probably it's not something that he feels comfortable with).

I believe LXC would nurture this good side of Xie'er, praising those little (and bigger) services he does for others, which would act as a positive reinforcement. Also he would show interest in Xie'er's skills, and what he does in his free time (like no one has shown some interest in this before?), as well as his emotional state and stuff. Showing that he genuinely cares about him. That he appreciates Xie'er for who he is.

Also he would encourage him to persevere on those abilities he has and teach others, maybe the Lan disciples. So Xie'er would see that his skills can be used for some other things that are not killing or trying to become the king of the world.

As for Xie'er, he would grow to like LXC, finally finding someone who really cares about him, knowing for the first time in his life what it is to be seen and appreciated by someone who does not expect nothing from him in return. Learning that he deserves to be loved that way (and I don't necessarily mean romantically).

And that he does not need to kill for others anymore. He can become the person he wants to be, not what others want to get from him. LXC would show him he can do good deeds and they will be appreciated, even if he's doing it for others is something he inherently has done before, it nurtures his soul. He needs to experience more of that. And LXC would encourage it. He is patient, he is kind, he rarely lashes out, he has predictable reactions unlike his yifu (I mean, when Xie'er did something to please him but sometimes he would react nicely and many others he wouldn't, let's ignore if his actions were morally correct or not, the fact is Zhao Jing would respond differently to similar things).

Also Xie'er is able to discern what's good and what's harmful, and I believe that given he could choose freely, without thinking is this what my Yifu would do, he would be inclined to do the good thing. LXC encourages that.

Okay, I will not elaborate more, probably I've even been redundant several times. This relationship would definitely be great for Xie'er, for him to learn what is a healthy bond and to grow as a person.

But I don't think it would develop into a romantic or sexual kind of relationship. It just don't give me those vibes. LXC and Xie'er have different backgrounds, LXC is a sect leader and devoted to cultivation, Xie'er is the leader of a shady assassin organization and has developed other kinds of abilities.

Dunno, I don't feel them like equals, as it feels with YBY and LXC, for them the cultivation/martial arts skills are one of the main pillars of their lives and it's something they can share together, LXC and Xie'er are way too different. There might be some power imbalance too, and LXC would be somewhat taking care of Xie'er and not quite the opposite? (save from those little services Xie'er would do for him). Well, this is not probably a good reason because I like some ships with power imbalances too.

But I mean, they just don't click to me as a couple at least. More like a teacher/student relationship perhaps, or a friendship at most. Perhaps I just can't ship it any other way because of my strugglr with crossovers, but with YBY and LXC it was clearer to me that, well, it could be possible.

I'd love to know your takes on these two concepts too, whether you talk to me directly or in a post!!

@goldensprite

[alicemarion]

OUTLAST :  THE  MURKOFF  ACCOUNT  (  PART 2  )   sentence starters !

this  prompt  was  made  using  dialogue  from  issues  #4 ,    #5  and  #6  of  outlast :  the  murkoff  account  by  red  barrels .    feel  free  to  edit  any  of  these  to  make  them  more  suitable !

“  _____  wasn’t  fucking  around  about  disappearing .  ”

“  our  chances  of  finding  a  lead  in  this  are  vanishingly  slim .  ”

“  what  you  got  there ?  ”

“  i  hate  it  when  they  have  families .  ”

“  since  when  did  _____  hurt  women  and  kids ?  ”

“  sorry ,    that  was  in  bad  taste .  ”

“  he’s  been  gone  for  a  while  now .  ”

“  i  saw  him  back  just  last  night .  ”

“  i  saw  him ,     standing  right  over  there .  ”

“  drove  my  dogs  batshit ,    which  is  weird .  ” 

“  they  always  used  to  like  him .  ”

“  _____  said  _____  was  here  last  night .  ”

“  it’d  take  us  days  to  find  him  under  all  this  shit  if  he  was .  ”

“  guess  we  better  get  started  then .  ”

“  it’s  garbage .  ”

“  is  ...    is  some  of  this  garbage  moving ?  ”

“  ants .    the  place  is  infested .  ”

“  what  do  you  mean ?  ”

“  emailed  him  ants .    not  the  strangest  thing  i’ve  seen .  ”

“  these  look  like  passwords .  ”

“  ouch !  ”

“  little  fucker  bit  me .  ”

“  black  ants  don’t  bite .  ”

“  motherfucker !    motherfuckfuckfuck -  ”

“  they’re  all  over  me !    jesus !  ”

“  not  there !    not  there !  ”

“  water !    water !  ”

“  goddammit !    make  room !    i’m  coming  in !  ”

“  fuck  this !  ”

“  it’s  not  working !  ”

“  we  need  fire !  ”

“  take  your  fucking  clothes  off !  ”

“  now  do  me !  ”

“  got  anything  i  could  wear ?  ”

“  nope .  ”

“  what  the  fuck  am  i  gonna  do ?  ”

“  hey ,    that’s  the  same  homeless  guy .  ”

“  that’s  not  possible .  ”

“  i’m  sure  it’s  him .    he’s  following  us .  ”

“  hey !    stop !  ”

“  where’d  you  go  ...   ?  ”

“  you  work  for  _____  ,    don’t  you ?  ”

“  ...    who  are  you ?  ”

“  i  believe  you’ve  heard  of  me .  ”

“  you’ve  been  following  us .  ”

“  what’s  your  name ?  ”

“  yes .    i’ve  been  watching  you .  ”

“  you’ve  got  something  most  running  dog  mercenaries  don’t .  ”

“  i’m  not  a  mercenary .  ”

“  you’ve  got  shame .   you  know  what  you’re  doing  is  wrong .  ”

“  it’s  a  job .  ”

“  but  you’re  somebody  who’d  chase  after  me  ,    despite  the  fact  that  you’re  injured  and  naked .    who  does  that ?  ”

“  ...    i  can’t  stand  not  knowing .  ”

“  tell  me  your  name .  ”

“  i’ve  read  your  files  ,    _____ .  ”

“  six  years  ago  you  leaked  company  files  and  vanished .  ”

“  been  off  the  map  ever  since  ,    encouraging  other  whistleblowers .  ”

“  you’re  trying  to  destroy  _____ .  ”

“  of  course  i  am .  ”

“  they’re  evil .    you  work  for  the  devil .  ”

“  you’re  protecting  _____ ?  ”

“  you’ll  never  find  him .  ”

“  i  couldn’t  tell  you  if  i  knew .  ”

“  willful  ignorance .    i  remember  that .    almost  let  me  sleep  some  nights .  ”

“  how  do  you  sleep ?  ”  

“  how  do  you  justify  working  for  people  you  know  are  evil ?   ”

“  _____  was  a  pebble  in  a  pond .  ”

“  that  is  where  the  real  sickness  spreads .  ”

“  those  are  coordinates .  ”

“  if  you  cannot  look  at  what’s  there  and  not  eat  yourself  hollow  with  shame  ,    you’re  not  human  anymore .  ”

“  i  need  your  help .  ”

“  i  need  somebody  still  inside  _____ .  ”

“  i’m  not  asking  ,    i’m  telling  you .   you’re  going  to  help  me .  ”

“  ...    i  have  to  do  my  job .  ”

“  what  are  you  ...    the  fuck ?!  ”

“  freeze !    i  said  freeze  ,    motherfucker !  ”

“  i’m  leaving .  ”

“  please  don’t  make  me  hurt  you .  ”

“  he’s  ...    a  monster .  ”

“  what  was  he  shoving  in  your  face ?  ”

“  fucked  if  i  know .  ”

“  let’s  get  you  some  clothes  before  i  get  too  turned  on .  ”

“  dental  records .   my  identification .   he  wasn’t  done  with  me .  ”

“  and  we  weren’t  done  with  him .  ”

“  this  make  any  kind  of  sense  to  you ?  ”

“  nothing  i  feel  good  about .  ”

“  but  at  least  it  closes  the  books  for  now .  ”

“  the  evidence  couldn’t  get  any  more  thoroughly  destroyed .  ”

“  there  is  one  more  thing .  ”

“  nothing  i  know  of .  ”

“  i  wouldn’t  put  too  much  faith  in  anything  i  heard  from  an  animated  pile  of  maggots .  ”

“  maybe  we  should  check  it  out .  ”

“  nah  ,    leave  it  alone .  ”

“  you  should  get  home  ,    spend  some  time  with  your  daughter  ...    make  sure  she  doesn’t  grow  up  to  be  somebody  like  me .  ”

“  he  ain’t  gonna  let  us  get  away .  ”

“  every  step  we  take  ,    the  less  power  he  got .  ”

“  we’ll  get  to  the  wicked  part  of  the  world  ,    and  god  hisself  ain’t  even  gonna  be  able  to  find  us .  ”

“  do  you  know  if  yeshua - ha  nostri  was  a  real  person ?   like  ,    in  the  bible ?  ”

“  never  heard  of  him .  ”

“  when’s  that  book  report  due ?  ”

“  you’re  getting  an  early  jump .  ”

“  figured  i’d  be  too  beat  to  work  on  wednesday .  ”

“  you  didn’t  touch  your  dinner .  ”

“  i  wasn’t  hungry .   it’s  not  like  i  need  the  extra  calories .  ”

“  _____  ,    honey  ,    that’s  crazy .  ”

“  you’re  a  string  bean .    a  beautiful  string  bean .  ”

“  shut  up  ,    _____  ,    god  ...    ”

“  there’s  somebody  messing  with  our  mailbox .  ”

“  your  daughter  is  connected .  ”

“  my  partner  and  i  had  agreed  not  to  investigate .  ”

“  turns  out  i  was  lying .  ”

“  i  hear  you  now .    where  are  you ?    it’s  noisy .  ”

“  sorry  to  interrupt  you  on  a  sunday  ...    ”

“  you’re  not  interrupting  anything .  ”

“  i  was  just  ...    folding  laundry  ,    listening  to  prairie  home  companion .  ”

“  i  don’t  think  i’m  gonna  make  it  into  the  office  tomorrow .  ”

“  i  need  to  spend  some  time  with  _____ .  ”

“  no  worries .    we  all  need  personal  time .  ”

“  fuck  me  ...    no  service !  ”

“  i  guess  the  heat  and  the  sun  got  to  me .  ”

“  heavenly  god .  ”

“  _____ ?    what’s  wrong ?  ”

“  are  they  out  of  hot  chocolate ?  ”

“  multiple  perforations  of  the  intestines  ...    spread  throughout  her  blood  ...    had  to  induce  a  coma  in  order  to  arrest  progress  ...    internal  bleeding  ...  ”  

“  surgery  is  no  longer  an  option .  ”    

“  _____  is  dead .    i’m  so  sorry .  ”

“  aiiee !  ”

“  i’m  so  sorry  honey  ,    i  didn’t  mean  ...  ”

“  we  don’t  want  no  trouble !  ”

“  i’m  just  gon’  take  your  pistol .  ”

“  hey  ,    hey  ,    take  it  easy .    jesus  fucking  christ  ...  ”

“  don’t  you  take  that  name  in  vain !  ”

“  safety’s  on .  ”

“  who’s  the  girl ?  ”

“  jesus  ,    how  pregnant  is  she ?  ”

“  god  have  mercy  on  your  soul .  ”

“  i’m  not  going  to  hurt  you .  ”

“  you  need  helllll  ...    ”

“  mmm - hmm .  ”

“  that’s  all  you  got ?    ‘ mmm - hmm ? ’  ”

“  i  heard  you .   it’s  the  least  crazy  thing  you’ve  told  me  so  far .  ”

“  fair  enough .  ”

“  you  are  in  such  deep  shit .  ”

“  i  know .  ”

“  you  lied  to  me  ,    you  went  off  the  reservation .  ”

“  what  the  fuck  are  you  doing  ,    _____ ?  ”

“  i  fucked  up .  ”

“  don’t  fuck  yourself  any  deeper .    i’m  on  my  way .  ”

“  spill .  ”

“  okay  ,    number  one  ,    you  work  for  _____  ,    not  _____ .  ”

“  number  two  ,    you  don’t  interfere  with  ongoing  experiments .  ”

“  we  only  enter  the  equation  when  the  science  is  done  and  the  side  effects  need  mopping  up .  ”

“  shit  ,    you  don’t  even  know  if  this  is  an  experiment .  ”

“  and  number  three  ,    fuck  you .  ”

“  you  don’t  work  without  me .    we’re  partners  ,    you  stupid  motherfucker .  ”

“  sorr  ...    ”

“  don’t  say  you’re  sorry .    i  hate  that .  ”

“  you  want  the  silver  lining  to  your  shit  show ?  ”

“  you  don’t  suppose  you  brought  me  a  suit ?  ”

“  i  even  brought  you  a  tie .    hope  yellow’s  alright .  ”

“  you  called  it  a  ‘ vision ’ .    not  a  hallucination .  ”

“  it  felt  real .  ”

“  first  rule  in  the  playbook  is  don’t  get  high  on  your  own  product .  ”

“  what  about  brain  injury ?  ”

“  the  scan  must  have  been  corrupted .  ”

“  is  there  more  to  your  testimony ?  ”

“  yes  ,    of  course  ,    excuse  me .    i  was  just  ...    ”

“  could  we  see  those  brain  scans ?  ”

“  they’re  already  off  to  the  lab  ,    but  we  have  copies .  ”

“  evidence  ,    all  of  it .    this  had  become  a  matter  of  containment .  ”

“  we’d  love  to  meet  the  patient .  ”

“  the  little  guy  in  here  has  been  kicking  up  a  storm .  ”

“  is  that  a  tattoo ?  ”

“  a  globe .    no  ,    wheels .    ‘ wheels  within  wheels ’ .    that’s  biblical  ,    from  the  book  of  ...    ezekiel .  ”

“  you  can’t  have  him !    you  can’t .    i’ll  die  before  i’ll  let  you  kill  him .  ”

“  i  seen  the  messenger  and  i  know  i  ain’t  burdened  with  the  enemy .  ”

“  my  blood  is  true  ,    i’ve  sipped  at  the  fountain  and  borne  the  pain  and  marks  of  salvation .   ”

“  you  ain’t  gonna  take  my  baby  ,    you  ain’t  ...    ain’t  ...    ”

“  get  a  doctor !  ”

“  doctor !  ”

“  we  lost  her .    we  need  to  leave  ,    now .  ”

“  she’s  dead  ,    gone .    there  was  nothing  we  could  do .  ”    

“  minimal  footprint .  ”

“  i  realized  too  late  i  was  operating  above  my  security  clearance .  ”

“  are  you  sure  she  was  dead ?  ”

“  yeah  ,    case  closed .  ”

“  it’s  sad .  ”

“  still  ,    i  gotta  get  home .    i  said  i’d  be  there .  ”

“  you’re  a  good  dad  ...    you  always  take  care  of  your  girl .  ”

“  _____ !    you  home ?!  ”

“  you  work  for  us  now .  ”

“  we  didn’t  find  dick .  ”

“  there  we  go  ,    my  child .    every  last  drop  of  salvation .    your  children  are  waiting  for  you  in  heaven .  ”

“  god  does  not  pour  half  measures .  ”

“  the  storm  is  abating .    all  these  undeserved  blessings .  ”

“  he’s  still  not  answering .  ”

“  send  people  to  his  house .  ”

“  they’ve  been  feeding  _____  information .  ”

“  that’s  no  good .  ”

“  i’d  put  my  money  on  _____ .  ”

“  if  we  find  him  ,    i’ll  put  electrodes  on  _____ .  ”

“  how  many  bodies  we  looking  at ?  ”

“  hundreds .    it’ll  take  us  days  to  get  them  all  sorted .  ”

“  lot  of  these  local  corpses  show  signs  of  cyanide  poisoning .  ”

“  god  damn  this  guy’s  heavy  ...    ”

“  that  doesn’t  look  like  cyanide .  ”

“  yeah  ,    a  lot  of  them  got  creative  about  dying .  ”

“  took  a  lot  of  what  killed  her  to  get  the  job  done .  ”

“  last  name  sounds  like  a  crustacean  you’re  not  supposed  to  eat .  ”

“  how  did  you  know ?  ”

“  he  was  supposed  to  be  making  sure  they  didn’t  find  this  place .  ”

“  we  got  one  breathing  here !  ”

“  ‘ and  i  only  am  escaped  alone  to  tell  thee . ’  ”

“  is  that  from  wrath  of  khan ?  ”

“  it’s  actually  book  of  job  ,    by  way  of  moby  ...    ”

“  i  know  what  it  is  ,    you  don’t  have  to  try  and  impress  me .  ”

“  well  ,    holy  shit .  ”

“  his  eyes  are  all  pupil .    completely  catatonic .  ”

“  we  need  to  dig  in  his  head .    don’t  be  gentle .  ”

“  they  rarely  are .  ”

“  there’s  blood  on  the  walls .    looks  like  something  was  written  and  smeared  away .  ”

“  what  do  you  want  to  do ?  ”

“  actually  ,    no .    do  me  a  favor  and  find  his  corpse  ,    because  if  he’s  still  alive  ,    he’s  fucking  dangerous .  ”

“  where’s  _____ ?  ”

“  you’re  asking  the  wrong  question .  ”

“  i’ll  still  help  you  find  the  answer  ,    but  you’ll  need  to  trust  me .  ”

“  dead  ,    twice .  ”

“  how  about  you  just  tell  me  whatever  it  is  you  want  to  tell  me .  ”

“  it’s  not  surprising  religion  would  be  such  an  effective  delivery  mechanism .  ”

“  gods  communicating  with  men  ,    gods  dividing  themselves  into  components  that  men  could  understand .    a  trinity .  ”

“  in  the  name  of  the  father  ...    and  of  the  son  ...    and  of  the  holy  spirit .    amen .  ”

[milknette]

chapter 06 - anime

水鏡照らす光跳ねて、 今が特別に感じた。

tumblr month: @adrinetteapril​​

links: ao3 | ff.net chapter: previous | next

ADRIEN makes it his mission to introduce Marinette to all the wonders of the human world.

He invites her out to try human activities, goes with her to try different human meals, encourages her to listen and watch various human media:

His most recent point-of-concern— anime.

“I just think it’s an absolute crime that you’ve never seen the in wonder and beauty that is Japanese anemonetion,” Adrien explains, putting on a dramatic face.

“... Japanese what?”

“Animation,” he amends, then noticing her judging expression, continues. “Look, I’m running out of puns! We’re hanging out way too much— I can’t catch up.”

Marinette finds herself laughing. “I mean, we could hang out less if you wanted to.”

“No!” He argues; says it a bit too loudly, really, as she evidently looks taken aback by his reaction. “I mean,” he coughs. “I just found someone to watch anime with me. You’re not getting off the hook that easily.”

(Adrien looks proud of himself. “Cool, I haven’t used that one yet!”)

She rolls her eyes, then stretches back upon the bed. Adrien casually sits on the chair, propping his head back upon the back rest. “So, what human torture show are you putting me through this time?”

“You say that like you didn’t cry over Moana.”

“If you did not cry while watching Moana finally accept herself and proclaim her love for both the sea and her people then I do not trust you—.”

He laughs, then nods in understanding. “It is a pretty good Disney movie,” Adrien points out. “A lot better than the earlier films.

“You mean, unlike the Little Mermaid?” Marinette responds dryly, visibly cringing in distaste. “The only thing that film got right about us mermaids was that we really don’t like mingling with humans. Ariel would be a one-in-a-million. And insane, probably.”

“So you’re Ariel, then?” She pointedly glares at him at even the mere suggestion of it, and he raises his arms in fake surrender. “I meant your interest in the human world! You are with us now, after all. And I like to think that you enjoy my company.”

“Eh,” Marinette only says offhandedly, lips tilting up the slightest bit at his unimpressed expression. “But I sure wouldn’t be the type to sell my soul to a— well, they don’t even exist, evil sea witch, just to flirt with someone. Especially one that’s human.”

“Yeah, you don’t need to do something as dramatic as sell your soul to get a human to fall in love with you,” Adrien says easily.

And what exactly does he mean by that?

“I— uh,” she flounders, takes a deep breath in, then shakes her head. “Anyway! What are we watching?”

(Yes, a smooth change of topic.)

“I figured that we could watch one of my personal favorites.” He grabs the remote and presses play on the stream— a pun that goes over his head and not hers, which makes Marinette truly wonder if she is spending too much time with him; if she’s already thinking of puns without even thinking about it.

Instead, the mermaid nods absentmindedly and decides to try and sit through the first episode— at the very least, to have him leave her alone. (Though the real reason may be that she just wants to spend time with him; though she’d never admit it.)

In any case, the decision doesn’t matter: because they end up binge-watching the entire series.

And Marinette cannot stop crying as the final scene cuts into view.

Adrien had somehow made his way to the bed halfway through watching, as she leans against his arm while staring helplessly at the screen.

“That’s it? It’s over?!”

He smiles in slight amusement, then nods. “Come on, it’s a sweet ending. And it ties up everything nicely.”

“No, it was perfect but I— I’m just,” she trips over her words, evidently conflicted and frustrated over the finale. “It’s done, right? There aren’t anymore new episodes or anything?”

“Nope,” he replies easily. “That’s all of it, since you inseasted on watching everything this morning.”

“What do you mean ‘this morning’, it’s only like 8PM—,” she pauses as he shows her his phone screen, the time 3:47 PM displayed front-and-center. “It’s almost 4AM?!”

She pauses, looking outside to see the moon slowly fading from view. “No but I— last time I checked it was— how did that happen?”

He’s full-on laughing now, and grins. “Power of anime; it gets you hooked, so you won’t be able to sleep until you finish all the episodes. Then you basically black out and only realize how many hours have passed when it’s already over.”

“You’ve introduced me to a cursed medium,” Marinette only mutters, running an exhausted hand down her face. “I’m supposed to be studying today.”

“Come on,” he says back, tilting her head in his direction. “I’ll help you out. This is for Mme. Mendeleiev’s class, right?”

At that point, she belatedly notices their altogether compromising position: lying together on her bed, his arm guarding her neck, and their faces only a few inches apart (she can see the green in his eyes: notice how they perfectly capture the shade of nature on land— beautiful), and almost falls over as she takes a quick step back.

The fact that she had been in such close proximity with a human, for an unknowable amount of time, makes her panic. The fact that it’s Adrien effectively makes her panic even more— though of a notably more intense variety and degree.

(She refuses to expound on the feeling.)

“Yeah!” Marinette finally manages to splutter out, before getting herself off the bed as quickly as possible and making her way to her backpack. She pats it awkwardly. “Have a lot of research to do if I want to ace that test.”

Adrien only stares at her for a moment, smiles, and she feels her mermaid-heart threaten to burst out of its chest. She doesn’t know how to explain the feeling, but Marinette finds herself thrown into overdrive when they’re together; unable to even conduct the most basic functions when he gets too close.

It’s absolutely inconvenient and irritating.

But she finds that it strangely feels good as well.

“You’re going to study now?” Adrien only asks, once again waving his phone in her direction. “It’s 4:00 AM, you can study later,” he says. “You just watched almost twelve hours of anime in the span of a day— that’s too much screen time for your brain.”

“But I’m not tired!” Marinette tries to argue, which would’ve held more basis if she hadn’t evidently swallowed down a yawn that tried to escape her throat. “As her TA, you can’t have Mme. Mendeleiev’s worst student failing her test, right?”

Adrien sighs, standing up and walking over to her. Once again, he’s at an extremely close distance, and Marinette’s almost confident that he can hear her not-heart beating.

He looks at her, and they hold eye contact. “I may be her TA, but I’m your friend first. So go and rest, Marinette. I’ll help you as soon as you wake up.”

“Fine,” she says resignedly, before walking over the bed. “What about you?”

“Well, I was just planning to hop over with you on your bed and—,” noticing the panicked expression on her face, Adrien laughs. “Kidding. Nino lives nearby, so I’ll probably crash at his to make it easier on both of us when I come back.”

“You don’t have to come back, you know,” Marinette responds, suddenly feeling the slightest bit guilty about keeping him in the area. “I mean it— I can do it myself.”

“But it’d be easier if we did it together, ” Adrien only points out. “Besides, you’d be getting help from her star student. I don't think that's something you can pass up on.”

“Ah right, the star who caused an accident to some poor faculty member for leaving water trails all over the outside of her classroom.”

He grins. “I seem to recall that being someone else’s fault,” Adrien hums back. “I was just trying to help out a friend.”

“Oh, so we’re friends now?”

“I’d be open to taking it to the next level,” He responds just as easily, echoing Alya’s statement from weeks ago.

The weight of her words don’t even dawn on her after a minute— with the panic consequently weighing in.

“Anyway,” Adrien continues, “I’ll be going ahead, so you have no excuse but to rest.” He slings his backpack over his shoulder, then nods to her lightly. Sea you later, Marinette.”

“You’ve used that already you know that right?”

“I think it’s a classeac,” he says easily, then opens the door. “I’ll come back in a few hours, okay?”

“... okay.”

He smiles, one last time, before the door effectively shuts, and she’s left to her own devices.

Marinette calmly walks over to her bed, then flips over to lie down on it.

She remembers basically cuddling with him over these sheets.

And then she screams into a pillow.

[colderthancoldest]

((Thanks anon! I picked 13 and Dhawan!Master of course lol))

The Master's Tardis had traced the call seven minutes in advance to this exact time and location. He pushed open his Tardis door to find himself in front of some no name bar with graffiti scrawled on the side, situated in front of an empty ravine. He was on Earth, and there was probably a similarly ramshackled city around him, but he didn't so much as spare it a glance.

The Master's steps were determined, his jaw clenched, and his hands shaking despite his signature device in hand.

He had been on the other side of the universe, licking his wounds like any old villain would when disappointed by their least nemesis showdown. It all made his blood boil to have caved so soon. To come back and HELP the Doctor.

The Doctor still had O's number and her call was scheduled to be made in exactly seven minutes. A hysterical, agonizing call that begged the Master to intervene. He wasn't sure what was worse, hearing the Doctor in so much despair, or the disappointment that hearing her in such agony somehow didn't lessen his own.

Seven minutes, which quickly turned into six by the time he made his way to the bar. Why the Doctor would ever be here- let alone with her 'companions'- was beyond him. He could only assume that her and her little fake family of humans were investigating yet another 'alien disturbance' before everything went wrong.

He glanced inside the window. He could see the Doctor grinning away, telling some kind of story to a curious crowd. Judging from her smiling face, there was still time yet to fix things.

Graham was there with the Doctor, but there was no sign of Yaz or Ryan inside.

The Master found a frustrated growl caught in his throat.

Five minutes now.

"We just want to ask you some questions-" the Master spun his head around to pinpoint the location of Yaz's voice. She was behind the building, out of his line of sight, but close by, "you clearly know something you're not telling us."

"Yeah," a voice added whom the Master could only assume was Ryan, "an' we can't help until you tell us what you're scared of."

The Master raced over the overgrown lot and skidded across the loose gravel as his eyes finally landed on the pair of humans. They were questioning what looked like a young lady- but the Master wasn't so naive. In under five minutes both humans would be dead if the Master didn't do something.

The Master reached out his arm and aimed the device at the lady. Her lips curled into an evil smile, but the Master's ray hit her before she could transform into whatever disgusting monster was undoubtedly underneath.

Yaz and Ryan's mouths fell open in shock as the lady suddenly shrank into a figurine and subsequently tumbled down the ravine. They scrambled back from the ledge and turned their heads to find the Master responsible.

The Master glanced over Yaz and Ryan for a moment, looked down at the tiny item tumbling away- half-transformed into a disgusting monster of black goo- and then glared at the Doctor's companions once more.

The Master shouted with such intensity that the back windows of the nearby buildings shook in their frames.

"You two. Come with me. Now." he demanded.

"Wait! Why did you-"

"Now! Or you'll die right on schedule."

The Master's forceful voice twisted his words into a threat, even though his actions suggested nothing of the sort. He was saving them, but he didn't have the time nor patience to explain why. He wasn't even sure he could explain why even if he wanted to.

The Master returned his device to his pocket, his hands shaking terribly as he fought himself for control.

"Come on," he said flatly. Then he turned, and led the pair into the pathetic excuse of a building.

The Master easily kicked through the lock of the emergency exit and let himself in, via the staff room. He heard the humans asking him questions as they followed, but blatantly ignored them.

The Master made his way through the small room, through the kitchen, and zapped some random soul playing darts as he entered the main room before the drunken fool accidentally hit someone.

Some garbage song from the 1980′s drifted through the dimly lit room as the Master approached the Doctor and grabbed her hand.

"Lovely to meet you all," the Master gave the various humans around the table a false smile, "Dearest, I think we'll be leaving," he hissed into the Doctor's ear.

He tightened his grip on her hand, making her sharply aware that this was not optional.

He only had four minutes after all. Four minutes to fix everything.

The Doctor looked up at him, her eyes not fully realizing it was him for a moment.

"You!" He heard Graham gasp.

The Master shook his head sharply, his anger swelling up into every tense muscle in his body. He hated these humans. He didn't understand why the Doctor would care so much for such fragile play things.

And yet here he was. The LEAST they could do was cooperate.

"Theta," the Master hissed through his teeth so quietly no one else could make out the word, "time to run."

The Doctor looked him over, her expression cold for a long moment, before she seemed to recognize the Master's desperation for her to comply. Finally, finally, she stood up. Her fingers clamped down on the Master's hand equally as tight, as if it was some sort of competition.

"Right, let's go fam," the Doctor happily said with a false sense of security.

Immediately, the Master led her out of the rundown bar, hand in hand. He broke into a run once they were out the doors and didn't stop. Just over three minutes. Three minutes to keep everyone alive. That was the deal.

Save them, just this once.

He didn't slow down for a single moment. Not even to see if the others were catching up. He just ran, down the street, around corners, through the park, and he didn't stop until the seconds ticked down and his full seven minutes were up.

When he finally stopped, he found himself- and the others of course- on a bridge overlooking a stream.

Only then, did he let go of the Doctor's hand.

The Master leaned over the edge, breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath.

There was just one last thing to do.

"Give me your phone!" He demanded, pulling out his own phone from his pocket.

"What? Why?" The Doctor protested, "And why are we-"

"Phone... or the paradox breaks," the Master demanded.

The Doctor glared at him, but she did give up her phone.

The Master impatiently snatched it from her hand.

He opened it up and dialed his own number.

"Everyone cover your ears!" He huffed.

He checked the time. Just seconds to go.

There was some groaning from the humans, but the Doctor told them something about the dangers of paradoxes and so they complied.

The Master held his thumb over the dial icon, looking back to the Doctor once more.

"You too, dear," he said softer than he had ever said anything to this version of the Doctor.

Reluctantly, the Doctor put her hands over her ears.

The Master dialed his own number in one hand, and pulled up the recording of the Doctor's message on his own phone in the other.

He hit play on the Doctor's message, the message that had brought him here, and held the phones up to each other.

It was still a paradox, but at least this would lessen the damage. The Master winced to hear the message, the pain of it refusing to dull even after a second listen.

"Master- Koschei-" the Doctor's voice broke over the recording, "I- I messed up. My fam... my-" she sniffed, audibly crying, "Master, I messed up. They're... they're dead. They only stepped out for a minute I didn't-I didn't even realize-"

The Master grimaced as she paused to catch her breath, the sobs clearly evident from her quivering words and the way her words occasionally caught in her throat.

"I can't- I can't fix it. The timelines- the- I really messed up. Just... please." Another pause.

"Master, please. I need you to help me. They can't die like this, not them. I can't- I can't do this without them. I can't lose them like this- just- please, just this once- I-I can't cross my timeline-" the Doctor in the recording sniffled, "I can't cross my timeline, you understand why... but you can. You're not part of the events so... please. I know you said you would never save them but I- I can't let them die like this. I can't let it be my fault so please, please save them. Just this once."

Another pause. The Master pictured the Doctor, probably all curled up on the Tardis floor as she finally said, "What am I even doing. You're probably dead."

More sobbing. It hurt the Master like knives being dug into his chest. And to think. The Doctor crying over him.

Two more words,

"I'm alone."

And then the message ends.

The Master took a deep breath and hung up both phones.

He stared out over the water, composed himself, and then turned back to the gang.

The Master relinquished the Doctor's phone to her and gave a nod, a sign that he was done and it was all over.

She seemed to have complied with his demand for once, because the Doctor's eyes betrayed no sign she had heard the message that she would no longer have to send him.

Still, her eyes looked over the Master's heavy hearts with something distant as she lowered her hands, took the phone, and shoved it into her coat pocket once more.

"So what was that about?" she asked somberly.

The Master turned to face her and sat himself up on the ledge of the small bridge. He still wasn't a big fan of the running, but at least it was over now. He hoped he would never have to intervene like this again.

"You don't want to know, but it was for your own good," the Master snapped.

"He did sorta save us I think," Ryan interjected.

The humans had all lowered their hands when the Doctor had done so.

"You're sure?" The Doctor looked to him, slightly confused because the Master saving anyone didn't sound right at all to her ears.

"I hate to admit it, but yeah," Yaz vouched.

"No. You would never," the Doctor stepped closer to the Master, eyeing him skeptically, "Would you? No, not unless it helped you in some way. What are you planning?"

The Master sighed, exhausted by all this.

Helped him in some way? Plans? The only thing doing this /helped/ was making sure the Doctor didn't fling herself into the sun after thinking everyone she cared out was dead because of her.

Was keeping his best enemy in tip top condition for their next showdown not a selfish reason enough?

"You prefer them alive, don't you? Let's just leave it at that," he refused to elaborate.

"And yeah, I'm still alive too," he then added through his teeth, "I can't believe there was ever any doubt."

The Doctor shortened the distance between them until her face was close enough for their breaths to mingle in the cool, evening air.

"In that case, I'm not sure if I want to kiss you, or shove you off this bridge."

The Master's full lips pulled into an overwhelming smile.

"Can I pick?" he hummed warmly.

The Doctor considered this for a moment, her face so close they were practically touching.

"No," the Doctor smiled.

Her lips pressed against his, soft but firm against the Master's full lips. The scruff of his beard tickled her face just enough to make her smile.

More than anything, the Master was relieved. He much preferred the Doctor's grin to her mournful begging.

Then all at once, he lost his balance and fell back over the edge.

He hit the water with a loud splash and fell through the deep pocket of water until his back finally settled against the river bed. He wondered if the Doctor would jump in after him if he waited there long enough. He should have pulled her in along with him, but the Master hadn't realized he was going to be kissed and shoved in. Not that he was surprised.

He watched the blurry patches of color through the water as the Doctor and her gang make their way to the shore, clearly put off by the fact that the Master hadn't resurfaced yet.

He waited until the Doctor leaned over the edge to look for him before leaping up. In one swift motion, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the water as well.

The Master chuckled as he dragged himself up onto shore, the weight of his soaked clothes pulling him down but his sweet revenge well worth the price.

The Doctor soon resurfaced as well with a surprised gasp and climbed up onto the land, now thoroughly soaked as well.

The Doctor began to laugh at having fallen prey to such a childish prank. A full, cheerful laugh, the likes of which had yet to grace this Master's ears.

It made the Master smile just a little.

"Is that it?" The Doctor finally asked, ringing the water out of the edge of her coat.

The Master nodded. His work here was done and he hoped he would never have to play 'damage control' again.

"It'd better be. Keep a better eye on your pets," the Master grumbled as he made his way back to the path.

It was time for him to go.

"We're not-" Graham began to defend the group against the Master's use of the word 'pets'.

The Master simply glared over each of them.

"You're welcome," he said gravely.

He could hear the humans question the Doctor about all this, but the Master couldn't care less.

He hated everything about this. He hated being weak like this.

And yet, he was thankful that he could return to his scheming knowing the Doctor would be alive and well for their next inevitable confrontation. That simple fact was worth everything to him.

[azwriting]

... Of More Woe (Forget Me Not, Kylo Ren x Reader) - Chapter Twelve

Hi everyone, here’s chapter twelve.... We are getting close to end and I hope you guys have been enjoying it so far. I only have three more chapters planned out, I don’t think im going to know what to do after that. Anyways please enjoy, feedback is always appreciated. Everyone’s comments always make my day! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Gif is not mine!

Summary: Ben and (Y/N) continue living in their little bubble until it’s popped by certain Resistance members.

Warnings: Language, A bit of NSFW, fluff, angst

Word Count: 7692

Kylo Ren stood attentively in the hanger of his Star Destroyer waiting. He wore his signature thick black robes and watched as the Stormtroopers maneuvered around their Supreme Leader in fear. It was times like these that he missed the security of his mask, he needed to get it fixed promptly. The groups of Stormtroopers began to make a clear path on the landing bay when two transporters and a black command shuttle descended into the Destroyer’s hangar. Kylo’s eyebrows furrowed, it was his command shuttle. He continued to scrutinize the ship as a displeasing voice spoke up behind him. 

“Ah, I see they have finally returned.” General Hux noted coming to stand beside him. Kylo stared at the man questioningly, who was returning in his shuttle? Before he could interrogate the redhead, the ramp door opened on his command shuttled with a hiss and steam pouring out. There was no movements for a moment, only Stormtroopers exiting from the other transports, until he saw the ends of pitch black robes exiting the shuttle. Then he saw the tips of two blazing red lightsabers. The mysterious figure came into full view with the Knights of Ren following closely behind. Kylo believed to be staring at a clone of himself, the mysterious figure adorned similar black robes, his gray and black mask, with a standard red lightsaber in each hand.

 “W-Who is that?” He questioned Hux, completely perplexed. 

“Don’t be foolish Supreme Leader, that is the Bride of Ren.” Kylo’s eyes fell back on the group thundering over to them, finding his theorized clone’s black robes to be framing a more feminine figure, and the mask to be smaller as well. The Bride of Ren? Was one of the Knights married? When had he granted a new member amongst the Knights? The woman stalked towards them, her gloved hands twirling the two sabers, before turning them off, and holstering them to her belt. The Knights of Ren moved past her and bowed before their Master, before leaving the hangar all together. 

The woman stepped forward after their departure, nodding silently to both General Hux and him. Up close Kylo could see the dirt and blood that stained her tight uniform and billowing cloak. “Lady Ren was your mission successful?” Hux questioned, his voice curt and straight to the point.

 “Yes General Hux, it was. The Resistance is no more.” The voice was deep, modified by the mask, but Kylo could still detect the humor and joy hidden in her tone.  “Although it would do you some good to remember,” She paused, a hint of anger evident in her words, as her hands came up to release the tight air locked gears of the mask. She pulled it off in one swift movement, “That I am your Empress.” 

The air was knocked straight out of Kylo’s lungs at the sight before him. The first thing he noticed was the red burned veins trailing up the left side of her cheek and through her one eye as if she had been struck by lightning. Then he saw the blazing red rimmed yellow eyes that were brought out even more by the black shadow coating her eyelids. The woman’s hair was loosely secured in a bun, small hairs falling out to frame her snarling face. Two red circles were painted on the center of her cheeks, with the same shade of red painting her upper lip and a stripe down the middle of her bottom lip, the indication of a Queen. Her black gloved hand shot out and Force choked Hux, “Bow before your Queen.” Her power forced him down to his knees, his eyes bugging in fear. “ Let’s hope for your sake, you don’t forget to show me some respect, next time.” Her hand released her Force induced death grip around Hux’s neck, the cowering man pleading for forgiveness. 

“I’m sorry Empress Ren, it will not happen again.” 

The yellow eyed woman nodded in agreeance, “Yes it won’t, now leave my husband and I.” The General shook as he stood, bowing messily before he rushed out of the hangar. 

Her wicked eyes turned to Kylo’s, a small evil smile worked its way onto her lips. “Hi.” She greeted shifting her mask into her other hand, before quickly leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Kylo was in shock, he did not move, nor did he kiss her back. The woman pulled away, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong Kylo?” he grimaced at her voice, at her calling him his First Order name, and not his given name. The name she had spoken so many times in their childhood… 

“(Y-Y/N)?” His voice was thick in horror at the darkly consumed love of his life, standing before him. Her eyes seemed to glow a brighter yellow, the red seeping into the middle like fabric soaking up blood. Her concern slipped away as anger replaced it.  All evidence of the girl from his youth disappearing. 

“Don’t you ever utter that name again. You know that’s not my name anymore.” Her voice was menacing, her shoulder harshly plowing into him as she hurried out of the hangar, leaving Kylo in a state of terror. 

 Ben jolted up in bed, his chest heaving painfully. Sweat clung to his hair, face, and bare chest. He whipped to his side finding her peaceful sleeping form still lying beside him, the sun casting streaks of light onto her exposed skin. A shaking hand reached out to gently touch her arm, a relieved sigh escaping his lips. She was still there, not a factor of his imagination. What had he just seen? Vile rose in throat at the thought of her piercing yellow eyes and the raw fury that had consumed her soul. It could not have been a premonition, no he would not let it be. But the horrible thought surfaced in his mind, if he was seeing it did that mean it was already set to occur? 

No, he had dreamed of her death as a padawan and she did not die, it had only been a hologram to fool the galaxy, to fool him. Perhaps this possible outcome of the future had more to it… Ben shook away the thought, he did not want to think of that horrible nightmare again. Most importantly she could never know what he had seen. He stood from the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. He stood in front of the sink, looking into the mirror that displayed his sweaty and blotchy face. Tears were dried on his cheeks, sweat clinging to his hairline, and love bites were scattered across his skin. 

A soft smile worked its way onto his face as he recalled the night before with his love who slept just beyond the wall in front of him. “Breathe Ben, its okay. I love you.” Her words from the night before seemed to calm him down, remind him to be rational. He wanted to be with her forever, even longer if possible, but she could not go Dark, not for him. She was too pure. Splashing cold water onto his face, he willed away him dream, and the fear it instilled in him. Grabbing the small cotton towel to his right, he dried his face, catching sight of something in the background of the mirror, and an idea popped into his mind.

 A rough hand trailed up and down (Y/N)’s bareback, eliciting a small moan from her lips, as it woke her from her slumber. “Take a bath with me.” A raspy voice sounded from right by her ear, lips pressing feather light kisses to her surrounding skin. Eyes closed, she shifted onto her side and outstretched her arms searching for Ben. She was much too tired to walk anywhere. A small chuckle echoed through the room as she felt Ben’s arms pull the sheets off of her and lift her up out of the bed. In her right mind, perhaps she would have been timid about Ben carrying her naked body, but no she only clung to him tightly. He carried her with ease into the bathroom, only stopping before the bathtub. The steamy room smelled of sweet lilacs and roses. 

“I need you stand for a moment, Love.” (Y/N) nodded slowly and felt as she was lowered onto her feet inside the warm bath water. Her eyes finally opening to see the white, purple, and red petals and whole flowers floating along the surface of the water. Oh how she loved him… Ben’s hands stayed firmly wrapped around her waist as she heard him step in behind her. He sunk down into the water, pulling her to sit down between his outstretched legs. A moan slipped from (Y/N)’s lips as she submerged into the water that soothed her tired muscles. She leaned back against Ben’s chest, feeling his head duck down to place lazy kisses onto her warm wet exposed skin. Her dominant hand lifted from the water to the side of Ben’s face, gently running her fingers through his messy locks. 

 It was late, everyone asleep in their huts at the Jedi Temple, except for the two lovebirds. It was the night after their wedding and (Y/N) and Ben were crammed onto the small cot, their breathing ragged as they came down from their high. She was tucked loosely in his arms, her index finger drawing tiny stars on his chest. They were quiet, skin sticky with sweat, listening to the insects buzz outside, their minds still in a lovesick haze from their climaxes. “I love you my husband.” (Y/N) breathed out, still in awe over the word, in awe over the fact that he was forever hers. They were bonded together in every humanly way possible now. She wanted to thank the Stars for bringing her to him, her eternal love. They would love each other for the rest of their days and then into the Netherworld. She was content with that, with him forever by her side as it was meant to be.

 “I love you my wife.” Ben mumbled against her forehead, drinking in her presence. She would probably never get over hearing him call her that. They laid there for a while longer, sleep a distant thought with the electric current pulsating through their veins. Ben was a live wire, every touch he graced her with, only left her feeling warm and alive. She felt Ben’s hands start to dip down her body, teasingly grazing across her upper thighs, as he shifted down to press open mouth kisses to her lips. 

“Already?” (Y/N) giggled in disbelief over his sudden onset arousal. Ben hummed against her lips, pulling her into his intoxicating taste, his hand drifting closer and closer. 

He broke away suddenly with a wide mischievous grin on his face, “For you my wife, I could go all night.” Her eyes widened at his words, the idea floating through her murky mind. (Y/N) opened her mouth to make a snarky comment back, but was cut off by her trying to hold in a moan, Ben’s hand finally finding the place that awaited him ever so eagerly. 

 (Y/N) returned to the warm flowery smelling water and the kisses being pressed against her shoulder. “Hmm what did you see?” Ben hummed against her wet skin. 

She sighed, taking in the feeling of his mouth on hers, “I saw my plans for the next few days. What did you feel?” Ben dragged his bottom lip against her neck junction, his warm tongue swirling along with his kisses. Oh how she could just fuse into his soul entirely… 

“I felt happiness…” He placed a hot kiss to her neck. “Love…” Another kiss was placed higher up. “And Lust.” His hands tightened around her waist as he sucked lightly at her sweet spot just below her jaw. (Y/N) melted under his touch, her eyes closing in a haze, transfixed on solely him. She shifted in his grip, turning to see his handsome face. His eyes lifted to watch her diligently as she leaned forward to close the gap between them. They kissed each other gently, with passion flowing over each time. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as the confines of the bathtub would allow. Ben’s large hands were tangled in her wet hair as their tongues lazily danced with each other. 

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed, until the water began to grow cold. Ben was the first to pull away, knowing (Y/N) would simply ignore it until she began to shake. “Let’s get cleaned up and go eat.” Ben moved to grab the bar of soap and fresh square cloth, lathering it, and immediately working the soap onto (Y/N)’s skin. She could not protest, only sink into his grip as he cleaned her.

 With a towel wrapped around her body, (Y/N) exited the bathroom with Ben following closely behind her. She flopped down onto the large messy bed, still holding her towel closed in her one hand. Her skin felt warm from the sun streaming in through the window and from Ben’s touches. Ben chuckled down at her, leaning over the bed to kiss her once again. A part of him, that was quite massive, wished to take her again. To hear her moans, her confessions of love, to feel her surrounding him so tightly. But he knew she needed to eat, to gain energy, and then he could bring her right back to bed. (Y/N) watched as he stood back to his towering height and walked over to the drawers and wardrobe pulling out clean clothing. All dark shades per usual. A soft blush dusted her cheeks as she took all of him while he dressed, paying no mind to her prying eyes. He was hers and she was his. There was simply no other way it was meant to be.

 “You get dressed and I’ll go start breakfast, okay?” She nodded quietly still lying on the bed. Ben gave her a smile, before he headed to the door, although he stopped in his tracks. Spinning on his heel, he flew back to her side laying a forceful kiss onto her lips. “You lying in this bed, barely covered, is not helping me keep rational thoughts.” He mumbled against her lips.

 (Y/N) only smiled and stroked his still wet hair, “No one asked for rationality.” 

Ben groaned, a hungry kiss following, “You’ll be the death of me.” With one more kiss, he pulled himself away and left for the kitchen. (Y/N) stayed cemented to the bed, basking in the sunlight, in a lovesick haze. She thought of Ben, of how connected she felt to him and to even herself. He of course was not the end all be all of her existence, there was more to her than just him, but there had been very little of (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s life without Ben Solo. He was her sun. A selfish part of her thought of the two of them hiding away here for forever, letting everyone else rage on their war. In a fleeting moment the thought had passed, leaving her to feel guilty. They had a part in this war, a huge one, and it was time for it all to end. 

 A faint noise woke her from her thoughts. It was hard to describe; it sounded like a loud hum mixed with something else, something she could not place. (Y/N) rose from the bed, securing her towel under her one arm, heading towards where the noise came from. Across the room, the wardrobe seemed to shine in the daylight, beckoning her forward, the noise coming from inside as well. She opened both of the white doors, finding clothes to be neatly hung up and a black bag resting at the bottom. It was the black bag she had seen Ben pack inside his room on the Star Destroyer. Her hands were quick to pull it up, the noise vanishing as she did. The bag was empty beside for the cylinder shaped item still wrapped in torn brown fabric. 

Carefully she lifted the object, finding the grooves of the cylinder to feel familiar. Unwinding the brown fabric, (Y/N) let out a tiny gasp at what she found. It was a black and silver lightsaber, her lightsaber. The cloth dropped from her hand as she lifted her lightsaber up to examine it closely, finding black necklaces tightly intertwined around the base of the lightsaber. The sight elicited another sharp inhale from (Y/N) as she brought the items up to her chest, clutching them with a firm grip. 

 Exchanging her towel for clothes, she exited the bedroom and headed down the hallway towards the main area and kitchen. Ben was setting down two plates of food when she came out of the hallway, his eyes immediately traveling up to hers. She was silent as he glanced over her, his eyes sticking to her lightsaber she still held firmly. He sighed, “I should’ve figured it would call to you sooner or later.” (Y/N) looked down to the body of the saber once again, her thumb skimming across the metal pieces.

 “I forgot about it, forgot that I dropped it that night. You’ve kept it all this time?” Her head lifted to Ben again, his eyes watching her intently, a single nod coming from him as well.

 “It was all I had left of you, besi-” He cut himself off searching for the black necklaces that should have been tied around the body, only to find them gone. Worry filled his being, where were they? Before he could question if she had seen them, (Y/N) shifted her left hand that gripped the lightsaber, a silver band shining on her ring finger. The concern left Ben, instead filling with something else entirely. She had put her wedding ring back on… 

(Y/N) did not even realize he had noticed before his looming figure was in front of her, and lifting her into a heated kiss. She kissed him back eagerly, her hands grabbing a hold of his face, the cool silver ring such a striking contrast to their burning skin. “Where’s mine?” His question took her by surprise, her cheeks burning even more.

 “I um, I left in the bedroom. I didn’t think you’d want to wear it…” Her voice wavered, nervous and unsure of her answer, unsure of his question. Ben let out a low chuckle, nuzzling his nose against hers. “If you’re wearing yours, I’m wearing mine.”

 With that, he headed towards the room still holding her up and into him. Only once they were inside the room did he set her down, him grabbing the black necklace (Y/N) had carefully laid down on the dresser. His long fingers worked to untangle the silver band from the necklace and once he did, he wasted no time sliding it onto his ring finger. The sight was all consuming for (Y/N), they were Husband and Wife again, well they always had been but now they were acknowledging it. Finally wearing the rings they no longer needed to hide. “I’m surprised it still fits.” Ben laughed a real genuine laugh, his eyes lifting from his hand. His eyes enveloped her whole, she felt locked in place by his gaze, until he set her free with another breathtaking kiss. He could kiss her for eternity and she would never have enough, nowhere near it. Although for the time being, she could settle for these spontaneous bursts that came from him. 

“C’mon let’s go eat.”

 “Must we?” Ben groaned against her mouth. (Y/N) nodded, freeing herself from his grasp.

 “Yes, whatever you made smelled too good to go to waste.” She turned for the door, leaving a pouting Ben behind, although she did not get very far. In one swift movement she was tugged back and tossed lightly onto the bed. 

Ben hovered over her pressing sloppy kisses to her neck, “I can just make it again.” (Y/N) wanted to protest, but she could feel his hardening cock pressing into her open legs, the pleasure of the friction making her eyes flutter shut.

 “You make a compelling argument.” Her hands were tugging the ends of Ben’s hair, a moan slipping from his lips, as she lifted him into a messy kiss.

 After Ben had to make them a second breakfast, their first growing cold, soggy, and unsalvageable, the two were cleaning up the kitchen and plates. 

Drying the last dish, (Y/N) spoke up, “I have any idea.” Ben turned to look at her, his hair still messily sticking in different direction and his clothes wrinkled and ruffled up, she was positive she looked the same. 

“So do I” He said with a smug little smirk.

 She snorted lightly, “Easy Spaceboy, there will be time for that later. I was thinking maybe we could train…” 

His eyes widened at that, “What?” Was she suggesting for them to spare like they had done in their youth? He could not imagine igniting his saber anywhere near her, let alone fighting her. He could imagine the red casting an ill looking shadow onto her glowing skin. It only reminded him of his nightmare, of her two red lightsabers.

 “C’mon I haven’t in years, let’s see if I can still kick your ass!” Ben grimaced looking down at her, trying to fight his conflicting feelings. He needed to forget his dream, to forget that possible future, and maybe this could help. Seeing her with her purple lightsaber, all pure goodness radiating off of her.

 He offered her a hesitant smile, trying to downplay his thoughts, “With a remark like that I guess we’ll have to.”

 Lightsabers gripped in their hands, eyes watching each other like one of their prey, (Y/N) and Ben stood on the flat ground just beyond the lake. Their figures were rigid as they circled each other, studying their movements. He threw her a smirk, quirking an eyebrow, and (Y/N) ignited her saber for the first time in over a decade. The one side of her face was consumed by the vibrant purple light and Ben’s turned red from his crackling crossguard saber. She tried not to seem distraught by the difference, that his one blue saber, was now blackened and bleeding red. 

He seemed to sense her dejection, “Don’t worry I’ll go easy on you.” 

His attempt at a joke earned him a scoff, “Way to take the fun out of everything. Don’t worry though, I won’t on you.” She shot him a teasing grin, before she sprung off the balls of her feet, pouncing toward him like a fearless predator. Ben was quick on his feet too, his saber clashing against hers briefly as he moved to the side. They turned to face each other again, determination written in their eyes and smiles on their lips. It was just like old times… 

The two danced around the field: quick, precise, and strategic movements coming from both. Head to head, their lightsabers hit each other every minute, Ben’s strength and experience starting to give him the upper hand. As he swung his lightsaber forward, he carefully used the Force, sending (Y/N) down to the floor softly. She was quick to the floor, her grip still holding her saber tightly in her one hand, as Ben came to pin her down. Sweat clung to his forehead, seeping into his black hair, his breathing ragged as he taunted her. 

“I guess you can't still beat me.” A huff came from (Y/N) as she wiggled underneath him. She leaned up to graze her lips against his, distracting him long enough to bring her leg up. As a cover she teased his inner thigh before rapidly lifting it higher and kneeing him in the stomach. Ben let out a groan releasing his grip on her, allowing for (Y/N) to flip them around. With her lightsaber a few mere inches from his throat, she gave him a snarky smile, his surprised eyes narrowing at the sight. 

Grazing her lips against his once again she spoke up, “Guess again.” 

“That was a cheap mov-” (Y/N) cut him off, pressing a rough kiss to his mouth. Ben obliged happily, their lightsabers soon turned off and forgotten entirely.

“Ben!” (Y/N) cried out, nails digging into the skin between his shoulder blades. Her shouting only seemed to encourage him more, his thrusts moving quicker and sloppier. Both of them were moaning messes, chasing their climaxes for the second time that day. She had half a thought, in her clouded mind, that if they carried on at this rate they were bound to break the bed. Her legs were wrapped around his hips, each thrust hitting deeper and deeper. It was knocking the breath straight out of her lungs. “I-I’m going to-” Another loud moan poured from her lips as her orgasm washed over. Ben let out a series of incoherent words as her walls tightened around him, inducing his own. Breathlessly the two stared at each other, in a daze from their love filled highs. Slowly he slipped out from between her legs and fell to the side of the bed next to her. With what was left of her strength (Y/N) scooted into his waiting arms. They laid there motionless for awhile, allowing their breathing to come back down and their minds to stop floating up with the stars. Ben’s fingers lazily danced across her sweaty skin, his thumb faintly running over the curve of her breasts. 

“I shouldn’t be allowed to be this happy.” 

(Y/N) perked up at that, “What?”

 He let out a sigh still tracing odd shapes, “People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, I think fate was being harsh on you.” His words struck her by surprise, by his vulnerability and for how familiar his words sounded. “Simple, men like you don't care about people like me!” It was she had said to him in his room on the Star Destroyer, when he was simply Kylo Ren and she was (Y/N) Stryker. So much had changed since then, there were so many things she had not known. That she was a Force user descended from a well known Jedi Master, that General Organa had been her surrogate mother, that she had fallen in love with her son. Fate, Destiny, the Stars, the Force, and even the Maker seemed to have brought Ben and her together, there was no cruel hand by it. 

“Ben, stop. Fate was not being harsh on me, you’ve been the greatest gift of my life, despite it all.” His fingers stuttered in their movements, a heavy staggering sigh coming from his lips. She could feel his self hatred rise within, she could see it as plain as day written on his face. “I could never not love you.” She added, a silent tear rolling down his cheek in the process. He nodded, inhaling sharply as a few tears followed. He had been through so much over these years, over his whole life, and she simply wished she could have prevented all his pain. If only she had not been so naive and blind in their youth, perhaps she could have stopped the darkness from rising in him.

 “I-I’ve done so many bad things (Y/N), I don’t deserve anything of this.” She was unsure of how bloody his hands were, but working for the Resistance she had a pretty good idea. He did not say it, nor did he need to, but she could feel his regret, personal sorrow, and hatred. She was not sure what to say. Yes he had done atrocious things, she had to, but would he have survived if he had not? Would Snoke have spared him if he did not shed blood across the galaxy? She knew the answer and she knew he did too. He just needed to accept his past and learn to forgive himself, learn how to make amends for his mistakes. Instead of bringing death, he needed to bring life to the galaxy. Then he could return to the Light with her. He was already so close she could feel it. As long as she stayed by him he would turn. Pressing her hands against his wet cheeks, she consoled him.

 “Shush Ben, everything will be okay. I love you and you love me, that's all that matters.” He stayed silent as she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him. She could feel the tears splashing onto her shoulder as Ben sunk into her hold. Everything would be okay, it had to be.

 Almost two weeks had gone by, (Y/N) had been with Ben just shy of a month. The days seemed to blur together and speed past her. Their days continued on much like before: meals, activities, sunsets, but many hours, days, were spent in bed. Their hips rocking together roughly, his curls between her legs, their moans echoing throughout the house more than once a day. They were touch starved, spending every opportunity to be flushed together as one. A few sets of sheets had been ruined in the process. 

 The night of her 24th day with Ben, the two were lying in the plush green grass of the garden after a lovely dinner. Left hands clasped together and eyes to the sky, watching the twinkling stars. She was content like this, could see herself never having another worry besides how sore she was from constantly having him between her legs. But there were worse things to worry over… ignorance could only be blissful for so long. “Do you remember the ball on Chandrila?” 

Ben’s eyes shifted away from the sky to look down at her, hers doing the same. “Yes, why do you ask?” 

(Y/N) smiled softly, a glow to her skin. She felt so alive with him by her side everyday. “I was just thinking about how we danced all night.” Ben bit his bottom lip, the memory felt so far away his mind. 

“We did, didn’t we?” She nodded gently, her fingers dancing with his. She thought of their blue and purple bodies waltzing through the banquet hall, paying no mind to the rest of the people surrounding them. “I just remember how you stole my breath that night, one of the many times.” A large grin spread across her cheeks, eyes twinkling in love. 

“That was the first time I realized I wanted to be with you more than become a Jedi.” Ben tightened his grip on her hand, leaning over to press a chaste kiss to her cheek. 

They turned back to the stars, before Ben spoke up. “Becoming a Jedi was all my family ever wanted for me, to live up to that mighty Skywalker blood, and for awhile I wanted it too. But in retrospect, all I ever wanted was you, to have you by my side.” Her heart hammered in her chest, she was more important to him than his lineage. (Y/N) leaned over and slowly kissed him, her tongue swiping across his bottom lip. Ben let out a hum and held her head in his massive hands. They stayed like that for awhile, mouths never moving far from each other as they continued to consume each other’s essence. “Dance with me, my wife.” Her eyes gleamed at his words, she took such pleasure in hearing him say the words it was almost too much to bear. Without a moment more, the two stood and fell effortlessly into each other’s embrace. Tucking her head against his, they took small steps dancing slowly. They needed no music, just one another as they swayed in the night sky, ignorant to the rest of the Galaxy.  

        Ben watched as (Y/N) ran back inside, only for a moment, to grab a sweater. The night becoming a little more frigid and the wind picking up. He stood in the garden, awaiting her return, a hopeful smile on his face. It fell almost immediately when he felt something in the Force, a presence. His eyes scanned the open fields in search of the unwelcome guest, his conscience chastising him for not keeping his saber on hand. “You can come out, I know you’re there!” He called into the darkness. A dark haired man stepped out from beside the other corner of the house, blaster drawn and pointing at Ben. 

He recognized him almost immediately, “Ah, the best pilot in the Resistance. I should’ve known you’d come.” 

The man gritted his teeth, his grip tightening on the blaster, “Where is she?” His voice wobbled, as if in fear. Ben knew the man did not fear him, not one bit, not even after his painful interrogation when he had captured him on Jakku. No, the pilot feared for (Y/N), feared what a monster like him would’ve done to her. Ben could hear his thoughts, he knew his mother had told him part of their history, and yet the pilot still believed he would have harmed her. He elected to ignore his question, his eyes vaguely flickering over to the door of the house. 

“Where’s the Jedi and traitorous Stormtrooper you’re friends with?” Ben turned the nonexistent spotlight back on the pilot, his eyes widening at the question. 

The dark haired man’s thought betrayed him, they both were close by along with the Millennium Falcon, his father’s ship. “I said where is she?” The blaster shook for emphasis and Ben almost had the heart to laugh. 

“You’ll just have to shoot me.” 

The man across from him laughed, “That could be arranged.” Ben could sense him going for the trigger, his fingers itching at his sides in adrenaline, just waiting to stop it. The blue blast shot out from the blaster, stopping midway between the two men. Ben looked at the shot, exasperated. It was not him holding it in place… 

Two sets of eyes turned to find (Y/N) standing there, arm outstretched locking the blast in place. In her other hand, she held her lightsaber, her thoughts giving her away too. She had thought it was the First Order, not Resistance.

 “Poe?!” She called clearly in shock. The pilot, Poe, let out a relieved sigh at the sight and sound of her. 

“(Y/N), you’re okay?” The utter disbelief in his voice made Ben release a snarl. Poe walked carefully towards (Y/N), his blaster still raised at Ben. 

“Yes why wouldn’t I be?” She answered him confused, letting go of the blast that shot past Ben into the distance.  Poe gave her a look that seemed to silently ponder her sanity, but he dismissed it for the time being. 

“C’mon the ships just beyond that ridge, let’s get out of here.” His hand closed around her upper arm for a solid moment, before he was sent flying to the ground. 

Ben was quick to pull (Y/N) behind him, “Don’t touch her!” Poe was up on his feet in a matter of seconds, blaster pointing at them both. (Y/N) could sense his lack of understanding, until his eyes landed on her hand peeking out from behind Ben’s tall figure. More specifically, her left hand and the silver band wrapped around her ring finger. His silent questions seemed to be answered, his arm and blaster dropping down in shock. Ben let out a short huff of amusement, “Something the General forget to mention it seems.” (Y/N) gave him a sympathetic look, trying to convey how sorry she was for Ben throwing him, how sorry she was that he had found something completely different than he had expected. 

“Poe, give them some time.” A feminine voice called out from behind them. Rey stood attentively, Luke’s blue lightsaber fastened time her belt. Her eyes fell onto (Y/N) and Ben, a look of sadness swimming in them. She could feel Ben stiffen at her side as Poe stalked away towards Rey. The sight reminded her that there was a war raging on outside of this planet's atmosphere. A war Ben and her had a duty in. They could no longer hide in paradise. It was time to put an end to it. They had grown so close over the past few weeks, the Light practically surging out of him, now it was time to use their bond to save the Galaxy.

Once they were out of sight, (Y/N) turned to Ben with a hopeful, anxious smile. “Come with us! We can put an end to all of this Ben.” Her hand extended outwards to him, his eyes staring blankly at it. She could feel his conflict rising once again, the Dark and Light fighting for dominance. Hope filled her, yes he could break free of the Dark and become Ben Solo once again. 

“I-I can’t (Y/N). I don’t belong there.” Her hope faded, the Dark creeping into his soul, twisting its menacing hooks further into him. She could feel the anger working its way to the surface in her, as she tried to repress the sadness. 

“You don’t belong with the First Order either!” Her words seemed to float right past him, his expression showing no indication that he even heard her.

 He shook his head slightly, “We could change things, end this war and rule side by side. Make things in our vision.” Her stomach dropped, she knew what he was implying. It was the same thing he had asked of her eleven years ago, on this very planet. 

“I can’t.” She tried to swallow her tears, but they were swimming in her eyes already. Deep down she knew what was coming. 

“Yes you can, I’ve seen it! You ruling by my side as my powerful Empress.” Tears fell at his words, he had a premonition of her going dark? She staggered back needing to put some space between them both. Her parents death swirled in her thoughts, reminding her of the darkness she had felt as a child. Perhaps she had always been tempted by the Dark side and it was the path she was destined to follow. No! This was not her, it was only a possible outcome of the future not her destiny. 

“It won’t happen, I won’t act on it.” Her statement was strong, stronger than her will had been moments ago. Even if she chose not to turn, she could not follow him. Not to the First Order, the very thing she had spent over a decade fighting against. Ben let out a frustrated sigh, the Light beginning to vanish inside. “I-I thought you were coming back to me…” His hardened eyes looked up to her, his silence providing her the answer. She had presumed wrong. How could she have been so foolish? He was never going to come back to the Light again, that was why he fought it so much. “You deceived me…” 

He took a step closer, “I never lied to you.” She scoffed lightly, another realization surfacing in her mind.

 “Let me guess, your meditation time… you were really contacting the First Order?” He fell silent at that and more tears fell in response. 

Her Ben was truly gone then, she could not stay by his side, not like this. (Y/N)’s right hand enclosed around her left ring finger and ripped the silver band off roughly. A pain filled howl fell from Ben’s lips. “N-No, please not again. I can’t lose you again. Y-You’re my life.” Tears continued to slip down (Y/N)’s face, her head shaking in disagreement.

“No, we were hormonal teenagers blinded by the idea of first love, we are nothing more than that.” She was hurt, her heart shattering just as it had been mended. 

“NO!” He barked loudly, “You don’t believe that, you don’t feel that. We were destined.” With that she stepped closer, grabbing a hold of his dangling hand. “No we weren’t.” Numbly she placed the tiny silver band into his massive palm. She closed his fist around it and looked up to him through his tears. 

“Goodbye Kylo Ren.” His lips wobbled, tears cascading down his cheeks as (Y/N) turned away from him. Both of their hearts shattering into a million pieces as she left him. The skies began to cry as the two separated once again. Yes, they were destined, she had lied to him. Destined to love each other but never be within grasp.         

Crying silently to herself, she boarded the Falcon that was hidden just beyond the ridge. Rey, Poe, and Finn stood waiting at the top of the ramp, their eyes dropping at the sight of her. Rey stepped forward, her own sorrow clear as day on her face, she cared for him too. “He’s not coming.” (Y/N)’s voice was barely above a whisper, her body trembling. 

Poe put a gentle hand on her shoulder, “I’m sorry.” A part of her knew he was not all that sorry, why would anyone want Kylo Ren to join the Resistance? He only felt bad for her pain. She nodded numbly, Rey and her sharing sorrow filled looks. “Let’s go then.” 

The trio moved for the cockpit while (Y/N) shuffled to the main hold, she did not want to be around anyone. She did not want their sympathy, no she wanted Ben. Another sob escaped her blubbering lips, he had hurt her again, and this time she could not forget. No she would carry this pain until the end of time, just as he would stay in her heart. The Falcon began to lift off the ground, her hand shooting out to stabilize her on the round table, dropping her saber. 

A weird sensation overcame her at the exact moment, (Y/N) gasping at the feeling. She could feel more power surging through her from the Force, the power having a distinct energy to it. Him. They had connected through the Force somehow, their energy adjoining. She could feel his sadness, anger, and pain. And she knew he could feel hers. Her eyes fluttered shut trying to drown out his overpowering presence and Force. 

“We’re stuck!” Rey shouted, confused. The Falcon was stuck in midair, the thrusters not moving the ship at all. 

“What do you mean?” Poe stood behind the pilot’s chair, while Finn leaned over the co-pilot’s chair, where Chewie sat. Rey shook her head in confusion, she was not sure how it was possible but they could not move, they were locked in place. An intense shake began to rattle through the ship, jolting them around in the cockpit. A heart wrenching pain in her chest tore her attention away from the control panel, the girl immediately standing up. Outside of the cockpit windows, she could see the small house in the distance, and the dark figure that loomed outside its entrance in the pouring rain. She could feel his pain, his anger, and his sadness, but it felt intensified, like it was not just his.

 “It’s Kylo Ren, he’s holding us in place.” Finn exclaimed looking out the window as well. The exterior of the house seemed to be crumbling from an immense pressure, they could see chunks of it falling to the ground. 

Poe shifted over to see, a groan escaping his lips. “I don’t know why I assumed it would be so easy to rescue her, they’re so very obviously connected.” Rey’s eyes widened in realization, connected.

The scavenger was quick on her feet, pushing past the boys and heading for the main hold of the ship. Finn and Poe shouted after her, afraid of what she was doing, before they chased after her too. The three came staggering into the main hold, finding a shocking sight. (Y/N) stood in the center of the room, her arms outstretched and hands fisted, her eyes were closed as tears continued to fall. Boxes, supplies, and miscellaneous objects in the room were all floating around her. The Falcon continued to shake as (Y/N)’s fists clenched tighter and Rey could feel her pain too. It mixed so well with Kylo’s she had not realized what was happening. They were connected through the Force, their combined power destroying the small house and holding the trembling Falcon in place. 

“What do we do?” Poe shouted over the creaking metal of the ship. Rey was unsure, she needed to do something or else they would destroy the Falcon. 

“I don’t - I don’t know!” The sacred Jedi texts had not disclosed anything about bonds like this, at the very least she had not read that part yet. Her concerning thoughts were silenced as a blast seemed to project out from (Y/N)’s center, knocking the three down to the floor of the ship. At that moment the Falcon began to stop shaking and stuttered out of it’s locked place. “Punch it Chewie!” Rey shouted, still lying on the floor in a tangled heap with the two very confused boys. The Falcon quickly flew off into the sky, heading for space. (Y/N)’s bright (Y/E/C) eyes shot open, glistening with tears, as she dropped to her knees. The objects floating around the room dropping with her. Rey could feel the connection was gone and so was the Force from (Y/N)’s soul.

The connection was gone and all (Y/N) felt was pain. She sobbed heavily into her hands as she sunk further into the floor, unaware of the watching eyes. No all she could see was the sweet brown eyes she had loved. She could bear to feel his pain, hers was enough, so without so much of a second thought she closed herself off from the Force. No Force, no each other. A vicious cycle they seemed to be repeating. 

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[mrneighbourlove]

Evil’s Bane: Ch 8. Looming Dread

Leere looked a round a massive red ballroom, with a large staircase leading up to more doors. There were chandeliers hanging above, and many routes that they could take. No exits outside of course. Turning to Bonegrinder, she was catching her breath with the other Mortuus. “Bonegrinder. And Hades? I’m surprised you made it here.”

"Bonegrinder?" Black approached the Anagari who was breathing hard. It was evident he was not fully healed. Hades did what he could, but it would take a while for Prama's magic to finish such horrible injuries, most of which could not be seen with the eye. The Wraith frowned, noticing how the Anagari was struggling to even stay upright. "... we need to go back. You're in bad shape."

"He has been in bad shape for a long time, Black." Bonegrinder always had that dry humor availible, despite the situation. "You will have to wait to go back. Summoning a portal is not easy work. He will have to rest some more."

“Can we wait here? What if danger makes itself known?” Bi-Hanzo asked. Grabbing his head, he shook it. Felt hot in the room. And, did he hear something in distance? Sounded like laughter. No. Must have been his imagination.

"Not unless you have readily available portal magic so we can leave." Black then stated. "If you want to go on, then be my guest. My responsibility is the princess. Not you."

"... this snake supposes that he should question where we are. There is a familiar feeling of this place... but worse than last time."

“Last time?” Leere asked.

Hades was pacing around, feeling uncertain about his surroundings. Kenshi wiped the sweat off his head, feeling sick.

"Wait... no... was that this snake or Prama?" Bonegrinder rubbed his forehead. "His memories... Prama's memories... when is where, and where is when..."

"Don't stress over it," Black knew this was not a good sign. Anymore stress, and his master's mind might snap again. Two souls in one body was really taxing and he had seen many of his master's so-called 'episodes'. The last thing the group needed was a huge blast of magic knocking everyone back and drawing the attention of Destroyer... or his minions. "We're here now. Let's focus on the here."

Leere paced, rubbing her head. There was something... bad. Something familiar in the air. And it made her feel anxious.

Kenshi suddenly looked up, feeble shock trembling in his voice. There was sweat gushing down his face now, and his widened eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn’t slept for days. “Franeska?”

Leere and the others turned to see Kenshi suddenly running off. Bi-Hanzo was shocked by this. “Kenshi! Where are you going?!” The man chased after his fellow villager. When Kenshi reached the door, he opened it up with a kick. Inside was a small room with no natural light in the room. In that room, a little girl with her back to him facing the direct corner of the room was all that could be seen. Unnaturally she was perfectly illuminated with a bright red coat that covered her face from view. Leere looked to Black, hurrying along. Kenshi kept himself in the frame of the door from letting anyone else in.

"Don't follow after that apparition!" Black told Kenshi, sensing danger when the man ran off, but he did not chase him. He stayed with Leere. "Bonegrinder... something bad is coming, isn't it?"

"Bad doesn't even begin to describe it, Black... it's much worse than you could ever imagine."

Kenshi drew closer, relief on his face. “Franeska? It’s your father. It’s me.”

As Leere got into eyesight, all her instincts kicked in so fast she almost threw up. Memories she buried of being underwater and trapped with nightmares flooded back. She could sense the unique brand of demonic undeath now. It tastes like iron and vomit on her tongue. As her breath grew dry, and she tried to get the words out, Kenshi felt it too. “Wait...”

What turned around was no longer his daughter. A hideous monster with bone claws coming out of its hands and a disturbing contorted face of twisted flesh. With a shake of its head, as if confirming it was no longer his daughter, it stabbed those claws deep into Kenshi’s chest. Over and over it tore him slowly apart. Leere and Bi-Hanzo stepped back. From inside the room, a gargled roar echoed in its chambers. Turns out, in the dark, there was long, long tunnel that stretched far and wide. And it was filled to the brim with monsters. Leere looked to the door up the stair case, adrenaline rushing through her. “RUN!!!”

"Again with the running, why can't humans ever listen?" Black hurried alongside Leere, rushing, but looked over his shoulder to see Bonegrinder and Hades. At least his master could still move, but his speed was greatly reduced. The ghouls snarled, almost trampling over each other to tear the group apart. They had so much energy and hate in their being then any other undead the Wraith had seen. Once the doors at the top of the staircase were open, and everyone was through, Black used a touch of his own magic to seal it for the time being. There were multiple bangs against the door, and he frowned. "We have to find a place where we can rest for a bit. All this running is going to take a toll on all of us."

The bang on the doors grew more intense, and the ghouls crawled over the walls and ran to other doors to find other ways of reaching them. There were hundreds of undead that chased them from that room alone. How many more were there? Leere gripped her shadow medallion, sighing. “Let’s keep walking down this hall for now.” Looking to Bi-Hanzo, she nodded solemnly to him. “I’m so sorry about losing Kenshi.”

“Least I know what’s happened to my missing people...”

"We need to exercise caution. We don't know what to expect from a place like this." Black walked beside of Leere, glancing back every now and then to check on Bonegrinder. The Wraith was concerned about the Anagari. He had not seen him look this bad in a very long while. Black was one of the oldest members of the Hive and he had been through harsh times with Bonegrinder, thick and thin.

Walking down the hallway, it started to curve. On the walls were pipes and lights. Leere heard of this before, and seen it in Danjur. Electricity. Little bulbs of light glowing faintly to light of the room.

There were doors every once in the while on the left side. Staying alert, they saw a Mortuus at one of the doors, fumbling with keys to get in. Leere looked to Black. “Should we risk taking a guide, or move on?”

"Judging from what transpired outside this tower, these people rather shoot off their own foot than help a stranger." Black did not sound too enthused. "Let us try to keep moving until Bonegrinder can summon a portal."

"We cannot trust these Mortuus, Leere." Bonegrinder told the princess in-between slithers. He had to stop to catch his breath every now and then. Seeing he was larger than the humans and Hades, he could slither a little then rest for a moment. "Remember what he said about friend or foe; that does not apply here. They are both."

“Agreed. I don’t want to talk with these cultists of damnation.” It seemed Bi-Hanzo was in a charitable mood towards Bonegrinder. So they waited until the Mortuus was gone before contributing onwards. Walking up a spiraling staircase, they started to gain a view of the outside. The city held the sights of people arguing, children running through the streets, and monsters eating anyone who was foolish enough to have their guard down. High in the sky, a dragon flew by silently. Leere cringed when she saw how little skin it had on its body when it become illuminated by the moon.

Arriving at the top of the staircase, they came across a purple and red door. Creaking it open, Leere peered inside. A giant ballroom filled with cultists were strewn about. They were cutting apart bodies, experimenting with wiring, and praying to statues of various gods and demons. It seemed to be an active hub.

"...!!!" Bonegrinder felt physically sick. His scales flickered, sensing the danger. Carefully, he pulled Leere back with his tail and shut the door, praying none of the cultists noticed. "... he senses foulness there, tiny princess. Let us keep going."

"... they were making more puppets, weren't they?" Black asked his master.

"Yes, among other things. This snake can sense his brother's presence nearby... that or his magic one. Destroyer and Chaos have riddled this place with their disease of seducing black arts."

As Hades was about to turn back down the stairs, he paused. His powerful sense of hearing often lead to dread. “Those undead abominations have found our path. Judging by the smell, they’d be upon us in fifteen minutes.”

"There's no way all of us can take down a horde of those things." Black knew he could simply hide in the shadows and wait it out, but pulling in three other beings with him? That'd drain his magic excessively. There was no way he could pull it off for long and he refused to leave his master's side anyhow. "Do you think we can find a way to the outside? It'd even be safer to hang off a wall at this point."

Hades looked down at the room, scanning its contents. At the far end, he saw a sign of hope. “Very end of the room. There’s an elevator going upwards. Our chances are much stronger if we fight our way through to there then back down. Bonegrinder. Can you manage it?”

"This snake can move, though he is concerned about the elevator." The Anagari told the Lynel. "He is very weighty and so are you, old friend. There is a chance we both might not fit."

“Then we can take turns. Let us depart.”

Down at in the ballroom, one cultist was conducting an experiment. With a rat maze, he had a small worm like parasite travel through a fog identical to the one that the group traveled through the cave. Once it made its way to the other size and in a bigger container, it grew nearly ten times its size to fill the glass container. As he was writing notes, his head suddenly turned into red paste as Hades club utterly destroyed him with one swing. The Lynel short teleported over your cause first blood and sew confusion amongst the cultists.

Leere was running down the steps to the elevator, when she paused in her tracks at a monument she saw. A red obelisk with runes glew a menacing light glow on and off, and a deep anger filled her being. It was a construct just like the Beacon she shut down decades ago. “Sweet mother of god...”

When a cultist tried to hack at her with a sickle, Leere twisted her body around to dance around her attacker. With a graceful movement of her arms, she positioned her scythe at the other Mortuus head. Activating her blade, the blue hum of the energy easily decapitated her target, sending the head rolling in Black’s direction.

Black was managing to keep the cultists away from Bonegrinder with ease. He was using the darkness to his advantage. One by one, he took down anyone foolish enough to try to harm his master. Still, there was no place safe enough to rest and recover. The group would have to keep moving. Though when Hades suggested that all of them take turns on the elevator, Black shook his head furiously. "I will not leave Bonegrinder while he's like this. If he is alone and attacked, and another episode occurs, he could bring down this whole tower and us with it."

“Then you go up with him first!” Hades bucked his feet backwards, kicking another cultist into a statue. Leere watched Bi-Hanzo race for the elevator. When they got closer, he realized how big it was. More so, looking up at the opening, how far it traveled up. “Hurry!”

One Cultist threw a spear and chain at Black, stabbing through his shoulder blade and pulling him closer. His eyes were a mess with bloodlust, and with magic, a ghostly green fire spread up the chain to burn the Wraith. As the cultist was ready to turn up the heat, Leere cut the chain off, following up with chopping Black’s attacker in half. It left a messy pair of legs to stumble around for a moment. “Are you alright?”

Bonegrinder managed to slither into the elevator, fitting his coils inside tightly. There was just enough room for Black when the Wraith was suddenly pulled backwards. As soon as the assassin was out of the elevator, the doors suddenly shut and trapped the Anagari inside. Black, however, released a piercing screech as the blade struck through his body. He did not know what the tool was enchanted with, some kind of dark magic, but it made his limbs feel numb. Almost like the Cultist was trying to force his will. As soon as Leere cut down the cultist, he held his shoulder. Little drops of blood floated around the wound, able to see clearly through the hole. This would take a while to fix. "... that magic was trying to force me to obey." The Wraith then glanced at the elevator. "And we're separated from Bonegrinder. We must find him."

The elevator suddenly shot up, leaving the group the watch Bonegrinder be taken away. “No! No!!!” Leere reached a hand up in vein. She wasn’t fast enough. Looking around, she saw a lever to call it back down. Pulling it, she didn’t know how long they’d have to wait. Although the last of the cultists were dead or scattered, the danger wasn’t over. Back at the door they entered, a cultist was about to flee, when she was suddenly snatched away by the swarm of the undead. The hideous ghouls looked down the stairs, looking at the group. With a war cry of terror, they ran towards the flesh. Leere gripped her scythe, taking a few breaths. “We just have to hold out!”

"Hold out?! There's too many of them." Black was never an optimistic person. "If one of us gets pulled down, we're not getting back up---!!!"

DING!

The Wraith was interrupted by the elevator's appearance... without Bonegrinder inside.

Too late. The monsterous creatures were already on top of them.

Bi-Hanzo magically blasted ice and picked up a sword to hack away at them. When one slashed at his stomach, bleeding him, he retreated back into the elevator after bringing up a wall of ice between him and some of the ghouls.

Black might have been impressed by how quick and furious Leere was if both weren’t concerned with staying alive. The Shadow Sage kept hacking away at the fast undead, limb after limb after limb. But there were just too many. Covered in blood, unsure how much was there and how many cuts they gave here, she didn’t know if they’d make it out alive.

That was when Hades launched a powerful stream of fire to burn away a wave of the undead. “Into the elevator! Flee! Now! You must live!!!”

The ghouls were endless, one after the other, and he was down an arm. The Wraith had to improvise, pulling the undead around with his shadows and using the area to his advantage. Yet, even he was tiring. When Hades bellowed at him to move, the assassin started to protest. Bonegrinder would have his head if he knew he left Hades, but also if he put Leere in unnecessary danger. Damn it, why did this always have to happen to him.? Black had never moved so fast in this second chance of life, if one would call it that, as he chucked Leere over his shoulder so she could still swing her weapon and launched into the elevator.

Leere was ready to save Hades when Black suddenly picked her up. Her concentration disrupted, she could have used the shadows to give him a fighting chance, or give him reinforcements. As she got her footing again, the last glimpse she saw of the Lynel was being swarmed by the ghouls when the elevator doors slammed shut, and they made their way up.

“No!!!” Leere slammed her fists on the door. Still angry, she turned to Black, clocking him in the face with a surprise punch to the nose. “What the hell are you thinking?!?! You disrupted my concentration! Again! I could have helped give Hades a chance had you not suddenly grabbed me from behind! You’re not a knight in shining armour Black!”

Bi-Hanzo was still catching his breath, looking at this blood covered woman screaming at her comrade. Glancing at his own wounds, he winced.

"..." Black barely flinched when Leere punched him. He wiped away the floating blood from his nose and then retorted, "Bonegrinder gave me an order to look after your ungrateful ass. I promised him I would. I'm keeping my promise, no matter how much I think this whole idea of yours was a fool's errand. Now are you going to stop screaming at me like a brat and help me find my master or are you going to continue to berate me for my job?"

“I’m going to berate you for not thinking properly. Yes, I wanted to come here. But I know exactly what I’m getting myself into! I’m a warrior Black! This type of shit is my expertise. And if you keep fucking around and treating me like a Princess, you’re going to get others killed, or me! You want to save your master? Then use your goddamn brain.”

Bi-Hanzo leaned back against the wall, taking deep breaths. “What kind of shit are we in?”

Leere took a moment to use her shadow magic to peel off the blood stains from her clothes and onto the floor. “Nothing good at all. These Mortuus must be magical geniuses or morons. I’m going to say the latter seeing how they found a way to open up a portal to a dimension of madness and the worst undead I’ve encountered in my life. There’s no telling what else we’ll discover here. All I know is I’m not leaving until I shut it down. Again.”

"... fine then. You certainly have the bitchy temper of a princess." Black used the shadows to 'stitch' his shoulder wound closed for the time being. It almost looked like a dark parasite latching onto the Wraith's skin, but it would have to do for now. "I'm going to search for Bonegrinder. You do what you like." Once the elevator stopped, the Wraith took a look at the surroundings before stepping out.

Outside, was a narrow, metal caged hallway. The steel was rusting something fierce, and the darkness was overwhelming from all directions around them.

“What happened to sticking together?” Leere finally took a look at Bi-Hanzo’s wounds, pulling out a sewing kit from one of her pouches to help him out.

"You obviously care more for this Prama-forsaken country than you do for the well being of the one who has tried to protect you from all this darkness for years. I don't understand you. You're not the hero, you're the Shadow Sage. Heroic missions are for that kid swinging around a sword in green." Black stated very bluntly, "Bonegrinder is by no means perfect, but he does care for you for some reason that eludes me. I'm not going to guard someone who doesn't want me to do so and I'm going to go and find him so we can get out of his hell on earth."

“And what are you Black? An undead blade to your master? Klinge minus the smug charm?” She pulled tight on one of Bi-Hanzo’s wounds. “What I do I don’t ever account to my daughter or other children. This isn’t a fairy tale of a hero. But this is good vs. evil. There is a nightmare I need to put an end to here. You go find Bonegrinder. Leave if you want. But you save the good that can be found in this damned corner of earth.” She turned to him, a fierce determination in her eyes. “Because fighting for the good of humanity is always a noble cause.”

"Heh, now Klinge was someone I would admire. He had the lethality of an Echidnan when he was undead but gave it up for that woman and to play house." Black told the princess with no qualms about his statement. "I am an assassin. I was a bringer of death in life and now I am in this state. I killed many arrogant bastards, some who deserved it, some may not have. Either way, what 'good' I have seen in this world is debatable." The Wraith told Leere. "I am not here to protect the 'good' left in this earth. I am here to ensure the safety of Bonegrinder, the one being who tried to help me during the time where I was lost. I am not here to save the many, I am here to save only one." He then said, "Have you even thought about what would happen if Prama was ripped from Bonegrinder too early? No? Of course you haven't. Otherwise, we wouldn't be here, in the last place my master should be, but no. No, he's here because you made a deal with that damn Prama and he feels guilty. You manipulated him." Black barely showed emotion, but this was definitely a button for him. "You're right, Leere. I am no knight in shining armor. Never aimed to be. Yet, I will keep Bonegrinder save with the last of what I am because he helped me when no one else would." He scoffed. "Good of humanity... humans caused all of this. They had a choice. These Mortuus had a choice. And look what they chose. I have very little faith in humanity."

“You’re right. And it’s my choice to save what I can.” Leere stepped off the elevator with Bi-Hanzo. Activating her scythe, she used the blade to light the way forward. With blood long stained on the floor, it didn’t look pleasant. Leading them, she smirked at Black’s thoughts on the o. “Gave up his lethality? I pity you Black. You and the rest of the Hive. And I think I finally get it.”

"You don't need to." Black admitted to Leere almost with a chuckle. "We're all monsters here. The fact is, I've embraced it." He then looked at her. "But you haven't."

“And you think that’s a good thing? You lack humanity. You lack empathy for those outside your immediate bubble. It’s our connections to family, friends, and those we love that makes us strong. Why would you want to be a monster Black? Monsters are what threaten the innocent.”

”You can’t save them”

A tiny whisper ran out in their heads individually. It was like the wind in the air, briefly passing by.

Leere gripped her head, shrugging it off to paranoia that she’d fail. “I can be as vicious, bloodthirsty, and dangerous as I can be. But that doesn’t make me a monster.”

"It is a good thing, because the monsters survive, Leere." Black thought it was rather amusing. She still had no clue of why Bonegrinder wanted her to avoid all of this madness. Yet, perhaps it would eventually be her downfall. If only she had listened, the princess wouldn't be in this place. "And I am not human. Therefore, my lacking of humanity is for naught."

“But you where human once. Surely that means something to you. Tell me. Who do you love the most Black. Who’d you give your all to that wasn’t your job? Who do you miss in your heart?” Leere’s scythe went out, and she never got her answer. “Black? Bi-Hanzo?” Leere searched around in the darkness, and the assassin and the Mortuus warrior were gone.

"I was never fully human, I was am a hy---!!!"

Black was suddenly alone. He pivoted on his heel. Where did the princess go? He looked up and then down. No, he did not fall through a hole. Nor did he activate his shadow magic. What was going on? The Wraith jolted when he saw an outline of his old home. It was faint in his memories, but he knew it was there. He also recalled the pain that was held there. Recollections he'd rather forget. His parents were very much in love, but his birth was a bad omen to them. Yes, his beautiful mother, a human, and his mighty father, a monster from some of Mother's adoptive children, as she called them. A enchanting Nokken, otherwise known as a shapeshifter. Some could reproduce with humans. Others could not.

"Filthy halfling, filthy halfling."

This was an illusion. His parents were long gone. These faces which tormented him were dead. He knew that, he killed them. Perhaps it was now his turn to be haunted. Yet, that would be silly. A Wraith? Being haunted? A ghost haunting a spirit? That was laughable. Yet, the words still stung. The way the other children would chant 'filthy halfling' always irritated him. There was no love for anything remotely human in the world of monsters. It was easier to be a full monster, then anything resembling human. So, Black wanted to make sure that no one would ever mistake him for a pitiful human ever again. He'd change his shape and blend into the shadows.

"Don't you want to be a full monster? What if we could help you?"

"A little too late to play mind games, don't you think?"

"You could be of more assistance to Bonegrinder rather than a weak halfling."

"That's true. I probably would be stronger."

"Then accept our help. Let us help you break free of these human restraints."

"No."

"No? We thought you hated humans."

"I do. They're rotten creatures. But... they're crafty. And I'd like to hold onto that part of me."

“How about a test then?” A voice that didn’t belong called out. A shadow swept through the area, materializing with horns and a smell of brimstone. With flickering red eyes and a body that wasn’t all there, the Shadow Man confronted Black. “A choice then. Human? Or monster kind?”

"... you're the one that Echidnans call Tzitzimime..." The Wraith did not seem afraid or bothered. It was hard to have emotions being in a state of limbo, he supposed. Though, for some odd reason, he could still feel frustration. "The embodiment of Chaos."

“A humble avatar for my master.” The Shadow Man chuckled. With the wave of a hand, two doors appeared. “You have a choice to make Wraith. On the left door you will be led down a path to the fallen Echidnan God. On the right, the Mortuus Sage desperately clinging to hope. Both are about to become in mortal danger. If you hurry, you might be able to save one. Human or Monster? And I’d chose quickly.”

"So I suppose Mother of the Monsters was correct. You are split into pieces." Black simply stood there. "I'm surprised you haven't tried to kill me. Giving me a choice instead?"

“Because it’ll be more fun to see you fail in protecting not just one, but potentially two of your companions.” The insidious malice dripping from his voice was piercing. “Be fun to see your face twist with anguish when you see them dead.”

"You are mistaken if you believe I think of that human girl as a companion." Black was as stoic as ever. "Bonegrinder told me to protect her. She told me not to do so. If she dies, then the world will be rid of another one of your potential hosts you've waited for, obviously for a long while or you'd be here causing your havoc already." The Wraith asked, sounding a touch... pissed. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

“I do. That’s why you aren’t dedicated in a choice regardless by now. Save your master, or go out to kill the girl to stop my first plan of choice.”

"Well, you see, you made a mistake. I care about Bonegrinder. Not that shitty god inside of him. Also, one more thing," Black held out his hand before jerking it back. "You have to pay an assassin to kill someone. I'm not seeing any loot. So goodbye." The Wraith took the door to his master.

The Shadow Man’s eyes flickered with a smile. Closing the door behind Black, he made sure to single Destroyah that now was the time. “All too easy.”

Bonegrinder was in a hell of his own. The Anagari was frozen, unable to move. His limbs would not work and he could not find the strength to slither. He was tormented by visions of his family, lost long ago. The way they spoke was like a drug. He had not heard their voices in years, seen their faces in ages. The snake was content to die here since he saw his family one last time. Yet, Prama was trying to draw the snake back to rational thought, will him to get up and fight, but if he risked using too much magic, it would draw the attention of Dhakk. He could sense his brother nearby. This had to be a ploy.

Luckily, Black knew just the way to gain his master's attention. "Forgive me, Bonegrinder, but I am doing this for your own good." Black had suffered under illusions before and the only way to break free from them was... pain. So he stuck the tip of his blade into Bonegrinder's tail, earning a yowl from the Anagari.

Leere turned to see a white light shine down on a dark silhouette in the distance. It was a woman standing up, yet crooked in her posture. When she spoke Leere froze. ”My sweet little daughter... you shouldn’t have come here. You should have listened to your friends.”

Leere held her ground as a deathly version of Zelda walked toward her like a puppet on strings. Her eyes were gauged out, with bloody trailing down her cheeks like tears. It was sickening to see her mother used against her again. Especially now that Zelda had passed on. “Get out of my head. You aren’t my mother.”

“Why? Afraid you’re going insane? It’s ok. You’ll be dead soon enough you stupid girl.” The puppet suddenly ran at a frightening speed towards Leere. With no hesitation, she swung her blade to cut Zelda in half down the side. With her body splitting apart, the upper half of this sickening doppelganger of her mother leaped towards Leere, pinning her down. Zelda’s hands reached around Leere’s neck, squeezing tightly with rotting fingers. ”You’re a disappointment to the family. And none of them will see your body again. I should never have adopted you from that cage.”

Leere gasped as she was losing breath. Reaching to her side, she grasped at empty air until she found her knife. Turning purple in the face and her eyes growing bloodshot, she thrusted up in Zelda, stabbing the nightmare in the throat. Twisting the blade, she grabbed a lose hand up and snapped her neck. Gasping for breath and tearing up, Leere chocked on air as she kicked frantically to stand up.

However, her torment was far from over. The area exploded into a rush of yellow lighting, and the eerie cackles of children called out. Leere saw a large light in the shape of a door way. All around were tiny zombified children hissing and running at her from the dark. Every last one of them was a freakish version of her daughter Joy. Grabbing her scythe, and relying on instinct, Leere ran to the light. Everytime she was forced to cut down a version of Joy, a piercing taunt ran out in her head.

”Don’t you love me mommy?”

”Why did you never come back?”

”My mother didn’t love me enough to return.”

”You’re hurting me!” ”Die with me mommy!”

”It’s you’re fault we’re dead!”

With a frantic scream, Leere ran through the light. On the other side, she tripped and collapsed onto a clear floor all alone. Shuddering, she bit her lip hard to feel anything else other than fear. Rising up, she let out a roar so angry, so full of wrath, it’d shake the hearts of any who heard it. “I’LL KILL YOU FOR THIS!!!! YOU’LL PAY FOR TAUNTING ME!!!”

Leere wasn’t going to let these fuckers get away with torturing her and her friends anymore.

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/626094887593443328/evils-bane-ch-7-entering-the-tower

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/626630162211028992/evils-bane-ch-9-everyone-has-something-to-lose

[p-artsypants]

Longest Night (24) Shocking

And Marinette had thought Highschool had been hard. Right now, in this moment, she'd give anything to go back to those petty arguments and gossip fueled drama. But she couldn't. Instead, she and Adrien were trapped here, being punished, humiliated, tortured, for being heroes, all broadcasted for the world to see. At least she and her kitty were in this together. For now. Whump!Fic

Ao3 | FF.net

Just as a pleasant reminder: this story will have a happy ending, one that is better than ‘they both died and were free from their suffering’. I wouldn’t do that to you guys.

This chapter, we go back to Marinette and Adrien. There is gross misuse of a needle and thread (Trigger warning), and some shocking revelations (pun intended).

—

A small room. Concrete walls, ceiling and floor. A single metal door, with a cold metal table and chair. Illuminated with single flickering lightbulb, casting a sickly yellow light around the surfaces. This kind of room most people would avoid. It offered no comfort, no safety. It held secrets, and no mercy.

To Marinette, it felt like home.

Silence had been a constant companion this last month. Where as Marinette had gotten used to Tikki’s constant presence before, now she was startled by noise. Any noise. She could hear from this dank, secluded room, the sound of water running. Most likely someone else getting a shower.

And the light. There was only an old bulb to illuminate the room, but it was still much too bright for her eyes. So she rested her head in her arms on the table top. The icy water from her power washing still clung to her body, the hospital gown hanging on her turning damp. There was no warmth from the table or chair. Only cold, hard, unforgiving silence.

All there was to do was wait. All there ever was now.

Wait for death.

Something heinous happened in the dark. Every minute of every day, she stewed in fear, in anger, in injustice. The cold bony hand of wrath squeezed her heart, crushing compassion, mercy, and care from her very soul.

No one was coming.

Then she could let them all go. If they were watching, then they could all suffer with guilt.

Sure, she was Ladybug, but she was also a kid. Didn’t that mean anything to anyone? Or were they all expecting her to save herself?

But they had abandoned her. With whatever had happened back at school. The facts were blurry at this point, but she remembered everyone shunning her.

So why would her being Ladybug change anything?

But Adrien…

Her heart softened. He didn’t deserve whatever fate had befallen him. He had fought so hard, so valiantly, there was no blame on him.

He was the only person she could forgive.

But he was gone. And now she alone.

Alone in the silence.

So now the question remained: Dare she save herself?

What kind of life awaited her outside, anyway? What kinds of things were they saying about her?

Ladybug, the failure. The little girl that fooled the whole city. The disgusting pig.

There’d be hell to pay. She’d show Salo what revenge really looked like.

They thought Ladybug was red? She’d give them red.

Marinette sat up slightly, her bangs shielding the light from her eyes. She looked down at her hands.

Bony, dry, callus, and bruised. The hands of a corpse. That’s what she felt like at least. This was some sort of limbo she lived in. Half aware, plotting and calculating her revenge…the other half…twisted. The hallucinations in the cell were so vivid, so real. It was hard to tell the difference between them and what was real.

I’ve gone insane. She insisted in her mind. Normal people didn’t think like this. Normal people didn’t daydream about strangling people with their intestines.

This room was too big. She wanted back in the closet.  

The door opened again, Salo and one of her henchmen escorting another prisoner onto the bleak room. They had them by the arm, and all but shoved them into the room before slamming the door shut behind them.

Then suddenly, Marinette wasn’t alone in the silence anymore.

A young man, tall, pale. He was just a skeleton with skin stretched over him. He was incredibly bruised, and his legs were stained with filth. His blonde hair was drenched and also looked stringy and dull.

Did she look like that too? She wondered.

The young man toddled into the room, using the wall for balance.

Then he looked up, and met her eyes.

An impossible green. A green that haunted her for days. The green that accompanied the last echoes of his voice.

My Lady! My Lady!

It was Adrien.

And she hadn’t recognized him.

Marinette bolted from her chair and staggered over to him.

“Kitty?” She whispered, ever so gently.

Tears gathered in his eyes as he reached his one working arm out to caress her face. “My lady?” His whisper was even softer, his voice was gone, and he only spoke with the air in his lungs.  

“What have they done to you?” One hand held his cheek, as the other rested on his chest. She could feel his ribs, and the dent in his sternum she had caused with her crowbar.

He didn’t answer, his lips pulling into a thin line.

Adrien leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on her lips. Then he rested his forehead against hers. There was a purr deep down in his chest, a remnant of being the Black Cat for so long. He still only spoke with a breath. “For better or for worse, in sickness and in health. I may have been forced to say that, but I take my vows seriously.”

“Kitty…” She cried, resting her hand on the back of his neck. “I love you so much. I thought…I thought they had killed you by now.”

“They gave it a good shot.” He nuzzled against her. “But as long as I know you’re still with me, I’ll keep fighting.”

Her fingers curled into his skin, her voice dripping with ferocity. “I will never leave you.”

The door opened again, much too soon for both of them, and they clung tighter together.

“Together again for five minutes and you just can’t keep your hands off of each other. Young love…what a joke.”  Salo’s voice pierced through their bubble.

Adrien didn’t look up, didn’t give her any attention. His lady was back in his arms, and that’s all that mattered.

“So selfish.” She scoffed. “You two aren’t even interested in the guest I’ve brought?”

Marinette shook her head. She didn’t want to see anyone from outside. They all abandoned her, abandoned them, why should she care?

But Salo had never given them a choice, and so they were dragged back into that big room where evil persisted.

The lights were blinding, and they both had to hide their faces in their arms.

Then they were being chained up, and there was nothing to do but clench their eyes shut and wait until they adjusted.

“What’re the stats, Harken?” Salo asked a corner of the room.

“Over 2 million online. We have some from Japan and Australia tuned in this time too.”

“My my, this is becoming a very big deal.”

Marinette, squinting heavily, peered up and looked around. The room was still pretty bare, save for a wooden chair that sat between her and Adrien.

“You two missed out on so much while you were sleeping. You remember my Eddy, right?”

Neither of them answered, but it was a given. The arrest of Edward Savauge is what had gotten them here in the first place.

“Well, looks like he’s been released on lack of evidence. No witnesses. Sure is interesting, don’t you think?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. It really wasn’t the surprising. It just sucked that their effort of bagging him had gone to waste. “So?” Marinette asked. “There’s no reason to keep us anymore.”

“On the contrary, Miss Bug. Now there’s no possible way I can let you leave. Not even if you pinky promise that you won’t say a word.”

“I figured as much.” She drawled.

“Now, don’t you want to know what’s being said about you out there?”

“Not particularly.”

“Come on, aren’t you just the tiniest bit curious?”

“If you’re trying to egg me on, I’m assuming it can’t be good.”

Salo laughed. “Boy, you are so full of spite! I love it!” She called over her shoulder. “Pasolini, I think you can bring our guest in.”

Marinette looked over to Adrien, who’s eyes were downcast. Seemed he was just as unenthused about their guest as she was.

A young woman was ushered in. She had a bag over her head.

But Marinette recognized the orange sweater immediately.

The girl was shoved into the chair before Salo ripped the bag off of her head.

Adrien and Marinette shared looks of disgust.

Salo grinned. “Glad you could join us, Miss Rossi. I’m Salo, and I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Lila, for all the acting that she had performed, was downright terrified. “Please, let me go! I didn’t do anything! Please!”

Salo looked to her prisoners, finding them stone faced. “Why Marinette, aren’t you happy to see your best friend? And Adrien, I know you must feel guilty for cheating on her with Marinette, but you must be happy to see your girlfriend, right?”

Adrien scowled at them both, not saying anything with his mouth, but volumes with his eyes.

“Hmm, there seems to be some misunderstandings here. Let’s see if we can find that interview.”

The tv behind Salo lit up, Lila’s face on it with a news ticker underneath. She was teary-eyed and delicately dabbed her cheek with a napkin. “It sickens me. Adrien isn’t actually Chat Noir, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng isn’t Ladybug. You see, Adrien and I…well, I see no point in keeping it a secret anymore, we were dating. Under the radar, of course, he’s not allowed to date. And then he told me that he came up with this idea of a performance piece and asked if I wanted to play the role of Ladybug. I said no, absolutely not, and so he broke up with me. I think the whole wedding bit was really just a ploy to make me jealous and have me crawl back to him. But now I know that he’s just sick and wants attention. Marinette has been that way since I met her. She’s always tried to get attention and lied to do so. I think we should all stop giving it to them and turn off the stream.”

Lila turned pale and shrank in her seat at the absolute rage on Marinette’s face, as she turned her gaze to stare at Lila.

Salo shrugged. “Well Marinette, looks like we’ve been found out. Now everyone knows about our performance piece. And Adrien…your relationship isn’t so secret anymore, I’m afraid.”

Adrien trembled in his anger, before an inhuman sound ripped from his throat. The sound of a caged animal breaking.

Salo just laughed at him. “Mm, interesting. I wonder…who’s lying?” Sang Salo. “Ladybug always wants justice, right?” She leaned on Lila’s shoulder, a spool of thread with a needle in her hand. “Then will you snitch? Knowing that snitches get stitches?”

Lila sobbed. “Marinette, I’m sorry! You know me—Always good for a j-joke!”

“Ah ah ah, I wasn’t talking to you Miss Rossi.”

Marinette saw the needle and thread for what it was. Another torture device. Maybe the old Marinette would have taken the easy way out. ‘Taken the high road’ so to speak, and let things unfold by themselves. She would give Lila this lie, setting her free, and saving herself from unnecessary pain.

But this Marinette was ready to hit where it hurt, no matter the sacrifice. And Salo was giving her the platform to do so.

“A joke.” Marinette repeated. “I’m a joke to you.”

“No! That’s not—! What I mean is—“

“My suffering has always been a joke to you.” Marinette interrupted. “When you got me expelled for something I didn’t do. When you tricked everyone into thinking I was some sort of creep. When you endangered me as Ladybug by taking Chat Noir out of the fight with a lie.”

“But—no! I was—I was just trying to make friends and get Adrien to like me! None of that stuff was on purpose!”

Marinette scoffed, and turned her head away. Even here, after all this, Lila was still lying. Arguing with her was not worth it.

Salo was the one to poke the bear. “So you hate her, Marinette? Having her here angers you?”

Marinette considered this. Then answered coldly. “No. She is annoying. Irritating. If you had asked me when I first came here how I felt, I would have said yes, I hated her. But now, after all I’ve felt, all I’ve learned…what I feel for her is not nearly what I feel for you, Salo.”

“Oh!” Salo rested a hand on her chest. “Aww, Marinette, I feel the same for you! Would you…be my enemy?”

Marinette glared at her. “I hope you choke.”

Salo laughed. “She’s so sassy! I love this new Ladybug! What about you, kitty cat? How do you feel about all of this?”

They looked to Adrien, who was staring at the floor. He looked like he wasn’t paying attention.

Salo snapped in front of his face. “Hey, I asked you a question, Pussy Cat.”

He looked up at Salo, then at Lila, and then back down to the floor.

Salo whistled lowly, “man, isolation was not good for you.”

Adrien didn’t respond to that, and kept his gaze on the floor.

To the outside, he looked resigned and obedient, but in his head, dark thoughts of revenge circled. Violent, unnatural, evil thoughts.

“Well,” said Salo, patting Lila’s head. “If having her here isn’t that big of a deal, I might as well get rid of her.” Her hand went to her hip.

Lila started crying. “Marinette! Please help me! Tell her to let me go! Please! I beg you!”

Marinette let out a dark laugh. “You think I can do anything? You think if I had any power, I wouldn’t have saved myself by now?”

Salo withdrew the gun, pointing it between Lila’s eyes.

“Please Marinette!”

Salo smiled. “My goodness! Ladybug, savior of Paris, would allow a civilian to get hurt?”

“Lila isn’t a civilian.” Marinette corrected, her voice deep. “She’s a parasite. A liar and a manipulator. She hurts everyone around her, and only causes trouble. Her disappearance would only be a good thing.”

The barrel rested between Lila’s eyebrows. “So I can dispose of her? You don’t mind?”

Marinette shrugged, her face blank. “Blow her brains out.”

Lila sobbed. “I lied!” She screamed. “I lied about everything! This is real! There’s no performance going on! I never dated Adrien and Marinette never lied! Marinette never took any pictures of Adrien! She never stole anything! She didn’t cheat on her test! She didn’t push me down the stairs! I never met any celebrities! And I hate Ladybug!”

Salo looked at her with surprise. “What? Is this a confessional?”

“I told the truth! Isn’t that what you wanted from me?”

Salo barked a laugh. “You think this is about you?! You’re such a stupid bitch! I can’t believe you actually thought you had anything to do with this!”

“…then…why was I here?” She asked, trembling.

“You were the one broadcasting yourself all over the news! You know, I thought you did have some connection to them, but you actually lied and put yourself in trouble! You’re such an idiot. Why did you think this was a good idea? You’re so desperate for attention that you painted a giant target on your back.” She laughed again, being amused by the whole thing. “You have the gall to believe that you’re important in any capacity? My revenge is against Ladybug and Chat Noir! If you have nothing to do with them, then you’re useless to me!”  

“Marinette!” Lila screamed. “Help me! Please!”

Marinette glared at her. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

Lila cried out, bawling her eyes out, pleading with everyone.

Then the barrel of the gun pulled away. And Salo started laughing. “Wow, harsh. And I thought I went through petty high school drama.” She clicked the gun back into the holster. “But I can’t let Marinette have to satisfaction of you being killed. Warren?” She nodded to a man in the back of the room. “Take her out to some park and leave her. They’ll find her.”

“Yes ma’am,” said the brute.

“But before you go…I want Miss Rossi to witness this.” She held up the spool and needle, holding it in the light. “Pasolini, if you would be so kind?”

Marinette didn’t show any outside signs of panic or fear, but tightened her hands into fists.

Pasolini came from behind, resting one hand on her shoulder, and the other other throat, tilting her chin up.

“You’re not going to fight?” Asked Salo. “No screaming? No kicking?”

“Why? Is it not as fun for you if I behave?” Marinette bit back.

Salo grinned, snapping a rubber glove onto her hand. “You got me there. Still going to sew your mouth shut though.”

Marinette looked to all the world calm and collected, as Salo used a sharpie to mark the inside and outside of her lips, creating the guide.

She took hold of her bottom lip and pulled it forward.

Marinette’s eyebrows drew together as the needle pierced her skin, going in the bottom and out the top. There was no numbing, no relief, only stinging sharp pain. Even when the needle was through, the cotton thread ripped through the puncture. Then Salo moved to the top lip, puncturing through the bottom to the top, and then back down again.

Under and over, a basic stitch pattern. Marinette didn’t make a peep, but the tears still rolled down her cheeks. Blood oozed from the piercings, smearing around and turning Marinette’s mouth red.

Finally, Salo made one last stitch, eight in total, and made sure it was pulled tight. Then she tied it off and snipped the access. “I’m not much of a seamstress, but I think I did pretty good!”

She brought a mirror over so Marinette could see her new look. The way she had done it forced her lips into a pout, and right around the edges there were little black lines were the thread was visible. Testing the strength, Marinette found she could very slightly open her mouth, enough to maybe drink some water, before it hurt.

“Ah, much better! Now I don’t have to listen to your god awful annoying voice anymore!” Salo cheered.

Marinette tore her gaze away from her reflection, to glare at Salo. There was a threat in her eyes, but it would continue to be unvoiced.

“What do you think, Adrien?” asked Salo, turning to him. “You’ve been awfully quiet this evening.”

Adrien whipped his head up, his face full of rage, eyes burning, and hissed at her.

Salo grimaced. “Yikes. Nothing worse than a poorly behaved kitty. Well, we’ll just have to train that out of you.” She waved at a man in the shadows, gesturing him forward. “Warren, you can escort Miss Rossi out now. I don’t particularly care for keeping her around.”

The room went into motion. Lila was bagged again and dragged out of the room, while other devices were brought forward.

For Adrien, it was a large metal rack, with straps for the arms and legs, and a link for the collar around his neck. It almost looked like a cross. He was strapped in, both arms, and his feet were splayed apart.

Then they attached pads with wires to his palms, the pads of his feet, the underside of his arms by his armpits, and the area right below his bellybutton.

Marinette watched all of this with a careful eye, not able to ask questions, but extremely wary. She could have sworn she had seen those pads in a movie or something.

Next, the men moved two metal hoops on stands on either side of her. They weren’t too big. Large enough to comfortably fit her arms through. At it seemed exactly what they wanted her to do.

Then finally, Salo brought over two buckets and a pitcher of water. “Well, don’t you look just absolutely curious?”

Marinette flicked her eyes over all the components in the room, an answer to her question starting to form.

“Now this is a fairly simple device of my own design. You’ll be putting your hands through these hoops, and holding up these buckets of water. As time goes on, I’ll add a little water at a time. All you have to do is hold them still. If you touch the hoop…well…” Instead of finishing the sentence, Salo rested a wooden dowel on the edge of the ring, just touching it ever so briefly.

A spark flew off of it, and Adrien’s whole body seized up for a second. He let out a grunt of pain.

“The longer you touch the ring, the longer the shock. But you can handle this, right? Ladybug is so strong!”

But Marinette wasn’t about to tell her that it was only because of the earrings that she had such heightened strength. It’s not like she could, anyways.

Two goons took hold of her arms and fed them through the hoops. They placed the handles of the buckets in her hands, and then taped her fist closed, so she couldn’t drop them. With the buckets in place, it was impossible to pull her hands back through the hoops.

Even with a few inches of clearance on all sides, she still could feel the static around her wrists. It didn’t help that she was still pretty wet and she was holding metal buckets.

“One last thing,” Salo snickered, placing a bag over Marinette’s head. “Can’t have you knowing where the ring is, right?”

Despite the tape, Marinette clenched the bucket tighter. If that spark was any indication, she’d be shocked too, and a shock could contract her muscles and freeze her in place.

Then water started to pour into the buckets. Just about a cup on each side. But Marinette had lost a lot of muscle in isolation.  

“15 minutes, and then you can go back in your little cage.” Salo giggled, the chair Lila had sat in scrapping across the floor. “Oh, and by the way, if you touch the ring for too long, you could kill Adrien. Those bolts will cross the body, passing by his heart. I know his heart stops when you walk into the room, but let’s not get too literal, huh?”

Maybe it would be a mercy to kill him. Surely it would be painful the whole time, but…no. No, she couldn’t do that. It was just her twisted brain obsessed with death.

Five minutes in, and she was already struggling. Her shoulders, biceps, and even her neck hurt. She hadn’t hit the hoop yet, but it was only a matter of time. Salo added a little more water.

At seven minutes, her arms lowered the tiniest amount too much and she touched the bottom of the ring, sending out a bolt of pain up her arm for a millisecond.

Somewhere in front of her, Adrien barked in pain.

Shortly after, the pain had mostly disappeared, only leaving a slight tingle behind instead.

Another minute passed, and Marinette sank again, the touch lasting a little longer this time. She yelped in pain, pulling at her stitches.

“Uh oh, are we giving up already?”

Marinette was sweating, her muscles trembling. Her elbows felt like they were hyper extended and her wrists ached. The metal handle dug into the crease of her fingers.

Another round of tears cleaned streaks on her dirty face.

Another touch, longer this time. And when she over corrected, she touched the top too, her whole arm convulsing and violently jerking.

Adrien wasn’t fairing much better. He closed his eyes, unable to watch, and waited for the inevitable pain to come.

The first was short, and it also didn’t even hurt. It just caused all of his muscles to contract. The wires in the paddles left a tingling sensation behind.

The next one was worse. There was really no way to describe the sensation except for painful. Excruciatingly painful. A flash of white behind his eyes, every muscle in his body contracting, tightening, and feeling like he was tearing apart. The bolts burned his skin, heat zipping across his flesh and into his bones.

Each touch, even the most gentle, brought agonizing pain to every inch of his body.

He knew he was screaming, but it was unbidden. Happening without his consent.

Once the shock had ended, and the pain had just about subsided, another shock would be inflicted.

Marinette felt like her arms were going to rip off. There couldn’t be more than a liter in either bucket, but they were just so heavy.

She trembled as she tried to hang on. But finally, at the 14 minute mark, her arms gave out, and she collapsed, bringing the rings down with her to the floor.

Sparks flew everywhere, not just burning her arms, but the rest of her as well.

Adrien’s screams sounded like a garbage disposal in the sink. His voice had been destroyed in isolation, and all that was left was gurgling and yowling.

Then it all stopped.

Marinette laid on the floor, her arms itching from burns. She was exhausted, and couldn’t find the strength to do anything but breathe.

“Is that it?” Someone asked.

“Johnson, Check for a pulse.”

Marinette felt someone holding her wrist. “She’s still got one.” Then she waited on bated breath. “He’s got one too.”

Salo pulled the hood off of her head as men ripped the tape off her fingers. “Wow! What a shocking development!”

Marinette opened her mouth to protest, finding the thread looser, but not undone. She also tasted a lot of blood.

Salo plucked one end of the thread and pulled it tight again. “Hmm, that might just leave a scar.”

Marinette pushed up on one arm so she could look at Adrien.

He hung lifelessly by the wrists. His skin was blackened in some areas, in bolt shaped lines. His hair had fluffed up from the static.

Salo snapped in front of his face, but there was no response. “Ugh, guess we’re done. Can hurt someone who’s unconscious, right?”

They were lead back to the first set of cells they had been kept in. She wobbled, but walked on her own, while Adrien was dragged by his working arm.

The tiny cell was almost comforting. Being in the cold, quiet dark. Tucked into a small corner of the world.

She couldn’t speak, but she moaned, making noise to get Adrien’s attention.

He didn’t answer.

Not that she really expected him to.

With a sigh, she slid down to sit, resting her feet against the door.

It groaned in response.

That’s right, these cells were just old ductwork that had been repurposed. The metal wasn’t very thick, like sheets of steel, but it was sharp.

An idea started to roll around in her head. Risky, but plausible. If they were desperate enough.

She was certainly angry enough. But the truth of the matter was that she wasn’t doing anything without Adrien.

So she waited.

Her body demanded rest, but she knew she couldn’t indulge. Not yet. Her arms throbbed from holding up the buckets, and her legs ached from standing after sitting for so long.

But enough wallowing in pain. Now was time for action.

She reached under the door towards Adrien’s cell, her arm fitting a lot easier than when they were first inducted. Perhaps her wasting would be beneficial.

She stood back up, and ran her hands all over the inside of the cell, finding a small camera. She twisted it so it faced away from the door. Then she knelt and got to work.

Very slowly and quietly, she pushed on the bottom of the door, easing it away from her. No sudden movements, or the metal would rattle loudly.

Only a few minutes passed before Adrien groaned from his cell, and shifted, the metal groaning. “My Lady?” He whispered.

She grunted back.

He reached his arm under his door towards her.

For assurance, she patted his hand, but went back to work.

Soon enough, the metal had bent far enough that she could fit her shoulders through. She had to be careful, or else she’d cut herself.

As her feet cleared the threshold, her heart began to pick up in anxiety. She was out. But they weren’t free yet, so she knelt in front of Adrien’s door, and began pulling.

Adrien caught on quickly, and moved the camera just like she had.

This was it. Marinette was banking on the idea that Salo and her men had gotten cocky, and had lowered security for the night.

If not, they were in for a world of pain.

Finally, Adrien was able to crawl out of the little space they had created. He met her eyes in the dim light and smiled at her.

Phase one complete.

[toothpastecanyon]

Red Planet for a Red Soul, Chapter 1

Maybe this is what she deserves.

Read on Archive of Our Own

________________________________________________________________

               Three white walls. Two black chairs. A single grey table.

               Through the one-way glass, Director Jaqla watches as her warding team sweeps the area for a final time, blue lights blinking on their magi-orbs as they test the chalk lines. She can hear them talking - “Section clear!” one says, then “Section clear!” another says, then “Section clear!” says another, again and again and again until the words stop sounding like words to her.

               “Section clear!”

               “Section clear!”

               This is bound to be an interesting interview.

               She grits her teeth and looks down at the walls of text on her magi-tablet. The time in the corner reads ‘03:20.’ “Section clear!” Shouts a warder, and she resists the urge to rub her burning eyes.

               At a door to her right, there’s a knock.

               “Director?”

               “Come in,” says Jaqla. The handle turns, the door swings open. The man who opens it marches inside.

               “Director Jaqla.” He stops and stands at attention. “This is Agent Iroy. I’m here to conduct the interview.”

               The interviewer. She nods at him.

               “You’re here. We’ll be starting in a few minutes, once we’ve finished securing the room.”

               “I’m ready when you are, Director.”

               “Good.” Jaqla crosses her arms. “You understand, this is a very delicate operation. You’re going to need to be very careful with what you say to the subject - no doubt she is a very dangerous woman.”

               “Understood.”

               “She’s been in custody for four hours now. She’ll be unaware of the current news cycle; she’ll likely be upset when she does hear about it.” With a grimace, Jaqla continues. “But you need to inform her of that. She needs to understand that the trouble she’s in won’t go away if she destroys us.”

               “Yes, ma’am.”

               “She needs to work with us.” She picks up her tablet. “There’s enough evidence here to put her away forever; you need to tell her that. You need to make her feel desperate… then, you need to offer her a way out, with us. Can you do that?”

               Iroy nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

               “I hope you can. This is a huge opportunity for our agency, but we have to play our cards perfectly.” From the room, Jaqla hears “All clear!” She glances over, sees the warders filing out of the door, and turns back to him. “That’s your cue. Good luck, agent.”

      ��        He thanks her, then steps away. A few moments later, he appears in the interrogation room. Through the one-way glass, Jaqla watches him pull out a black chair and sit down, take out his own tablet and look down at it, no doubt reviewing the evidence.

               For a moment, it’s deadly silent. A warder slips into the observation room and wordlessly places a magi-orb on her desk before taking a seat behind her. It’s glowing blue - no issues with the wards.

               They’re ready to start.

               Jaqla takes a deep breath, and radios the guards to send the subject in.

               Then she waits. She taps her knuckles on the desk. She checks the magi-orb. She stares at Iroy, stares at him scrolling down the tablet with a finger. The empty chair across from him - she stares at that, too.

               Footsteps. She can hear them before she sees the door open. One guard comes in first, and holds the door open for the other as he escorts a woman into the room.

               A woman.

               A very startling woman, with bright pink hair and slap bracelets on her arm and a knee-length polka-dotted dress… all absolutely cakedwith blood. She flashes Iroy a winning smile, and her teeth look impossibly white compared to the dark red splatters on her face. Jaqla can see he’s taken aback.

               “Yo! Interviewing guy!” She waves at him while the guards shackle her to the table. “Mizar here. How’s it going!”

               Iroy blinks, once.

               “Just wanna say, I’m a team player! I’m real friendly, I’m a go getter, I’m great at following directions but I also think outside of the box for creative solutions to synergise your enterprise!” With a cackle, she flops down on her chair. “This is the kind of interview we’re doing, right? Hire me for not guilty!”

               “No, no, this isn’t-”

               “Plus, I’m great with animals.”

               She starts stroking something under the table. Jaqla leans forward - is that a…?

               “What have you got there?” One of the guards marches over... then stops dead. “What the hell?”

               “This little guy’s called Fluffy!” The woman shows off the actual dog now lying in her lap. She runs her fingers through its black fur, and grins up at him. “Shhh, he’s asleep. You don’t wanna wake him up.”

               “How did she get a dog in there?” Jaqla radios the guard. “Take that dog away from her! She can’t have it in here!”

               “Aww, why not?” The woman sticks out her lower lip, but doesn’t protest when it’s taken away. “Boo. I don’t want to work at a place that doesn’t like dogs - you can’t fire me, I quit!”

               The guard leaves, and finally, Iroy seems to regain his composure. He clears his throat, and leans forward. “Ma’am, this isn’t a job interview.”

               “It’s not?” She snorts. “Good. Fucking hate interviews. I mean look, I gave you my resume, we don’t need to-”

               “Ma’am! You need to stop talking, okay? Listen to me.”

               The woman rolls her eyes. She starts jangling the chain on her arm, loudly.

               “And you need to be quiet… be quiet. I said, be quiet.” A second passes, and Iroy slams his hand against the desk. “ I said be quiet! ”

               “Oooh, we got a feisty one here! Is this good cop bad cop?”

               “This is you shutting up and listening to me, because you’re in a world of trouble, little girl!” He grabs the chain when she starts to swing it again. “We caught you in a cultist gathering at a barn at eleven o’clock last night with a nail studded bat! There were multiple bodies! Multiple! ”

               The woman looks down, but keeps grinning at the table. “You know, it’s kinda condescending to call a grown woman ‘little girl.’ Makes you look like an asshole.”

               “There’s been a spree of cultist-related killings all across the country within the past seven years! It’s the highest it’s been in centuries, and we have reason to believe you’re behind it! You refounded the Dinner Crew!”

               She shrugs. “Team player.”

               “So you confess?”

               “I mean, not really? I didn’t refound it or anything crazy like that - it just sort of became popular again. Like skinny jeans.” The woman shudders. “Ugh. People worship demons and that’s bad and all, but skinny jeans are the real evil. You know what? I bet there’s a skinny jean demon out there - and a skinny jean cult! Ooh, I’m scaring myself now.”

               Iroy shakes his head. “You’re not taking this seriously. You’ve just implicated yourself in hundreds - if not thousands! - of cultist raids, and we have witnesses that point to you attending a sizeable number of those personally! ”

               “Oh, cool, cool.” She sits back. “So, quick question, I did tell you I’m Mizar, right? These wards you’ve got going are cute, but, uh, I’m basically just screwing around here. My buddy Alcor’s sky high on yggsdrasil right now, but as soon as he comes around, I’m just gonna dip.” She giggles in a deadly silent room. “Dip. Dip nip. Heh, that’s an inside joke. I’d tell you why that’s funny, but then I’d have to kill you.”

               Jaqla pales at the mention of Alcor - she can see Iroy recoiling a little too. She fumbles for her radio.

               “Tell her about all the other crimes we’ve found, too.” She watches Mizar sit up a bit at that. “Tell her about the news report.”

               “News report?” The woman jangles her chain again. “What’s this news report, mysterious radio lady?”

               Iroy nods. “Yes, right. Well, Mizar , when we apprehended you at the barn a couple hours ago, we also discovered a hovercar parked only a mile away from the location, with its trunk still open.”

               Finally, the woman seems to pause at that. She blinks. “Oh.”

               “Yes, ‘oh,’ because we discovered some very curious things in that trunk!” Iroy leans forward. “Several weapons, most of them with bloodstains that we have already sent off to a lab - no doubt we’ll find some even more curious links to other cultist killings that have happened lately! And you know what else we found?”

               She’s not meeting his eyes. “Probably the plates.”

               “The plates? I was going to mention the actual demonic summoning circle in the backseat first but yes, we also found the plates! We ran those, and-” He pauses, and exaggeratedly strokes his chin for a moment. “What did you say your name was again? Mizar?”

               The woman doesn’t respond. He shoots her a nasty grin.

               “Well, I’m not saying that you’re Jessica Strones, a university student who moved into Portland seven years ago - coincidentally rightbefore this uptick in cultist killings happened, huh!” He shakes his head. “But no, I’m not saying that. Do you think I’m saying that?”

               The woman is staring down at her bloody hands. “Uh, don’t I get to have a lawyer, or something?”

               Iroy ignores her. “Well, I’m not saying that. I’m not saying that because you’re not Jessica Strones either, are you? She doesn’t exist.”

               The woman lets out a groan.

               “Oh, come on! I thought you just wanted to screw around!” He cackles. "We’re getting to the good part, alright! Because while Jessica Strones spontaneously appeared in everyone’s records seven years ago, it seems there was a little girl who spontaneously disappeared! A little girl who also used to call herself Mizar and had ties to cultist organisations - how curious!”

               “Please stop.”

               “No. It doesn’t stop, Mizar. You’ve been running your whole life, and now we’re finally catching up to you. We’re not stopping.” Iroy rises up, his grin looming over her. “Are you or are you not a member of the Bloody Dreamers, an illegal and murderous cult of Alcor?”

               The woman trembles at the name. She rocks a little in place and doesn’t respond.

               “You are. Not even just a member - you're their chosen one! A Mizar, born into their ranks!” He steps back, chuckling. “They married you off to Alcor believing they could secure his eternal favour! And now here you are, seven years later, hand in hand with a demon murdering all the other cults that dare to challenge the Bloody Dreamers!”

               She just shakes her head. Iroy laughs.

               “Don’t deny it, little girl. We’ve caught you red handed, and don’t you even think about siccing your demon on us because that’s not going to silence the truth. We, uh…” He made air quotes. “‘accidentally leaked’ the story to some news reporters - the headlines people are gonna wake up to are juicy! ‘Identity of current Mizar revealed!’ ‘Jessica Strones arrested on multiple of charges of cultist-related murder’ ‘Jessica Strones - Portland student, barista, murderer! ’ And you know my favourite one?”

               The woman’s curled up into a ball on her seat.

               “It’s gotta be ‘Mizars, Murder, Matricide: the Truth about So-Called Jessica Stones!’ from some online tabloid - I love the alliteration!” He gives another cackle. “Man, you are one messed up little girl, aren’t you? Murdered your own mom when you were twelve years old, and here you are, all grown up and still covered in blood! You like it, don’t you? Sicko.”

               Jaqla watches the woman’s shoulders quiver up and down - she’s sobbing. With a slight frown creasing her face, she radios Iroy.

               “That’s enough of that. Tell her how how we can still help her, if she cooperates.”

               Mizar glances up at that. Her eyes flit over to the one-way glass… and they narrow. Jaqla knows she can’t see through, but she still checks the magi-orb. The wards are still blue.

               Iroy clears his throat. “Right. Well, we can both agree you’ve murdered yourself into a bit of a hole, Mizar. But you know what? It’s not too late for you to do the right thing.”

               With a deep, shuddering breath, Mizar raises her head up. She keeps staring over in Jaqla’s direction, not even glancing over at Iroy even as he clears his throat.

               “We can help you, you know. We can relocate you, change your name, give you a nice big house away from all this life-in-prison business, and all you need to do is...”

               Mizar holds her fist up, and extends one middle finger up to point at the one way glass. Iroy shakes his head.

               “You haven’t even heard our one simple condition!”

               She sticks both middle fingers up. Then she tries for a crooked grin.

               “Look,” Iroy walks around to block her from the glass. “You’re a Mizar, and everyone in the world's been trying since the Transcendence to understand exactly what that means! The United Federation's no different. If you could consent to some research, I promise this is going to go a lot better for you.” He crosses his arms. “Even with a demon, what does your life look like if you don’t cooperate? You think people are going to be okay with some serial killer Mizar running around the world?

               “Serial killer?” Mizar manages a shaky snort. “I hunt down human sacrificing cults. I’d describe myself as more of a vigilante.”

               He steps in closer. “It doesn’t matter what you say. You will be hunted down for the rest of your days if you don’t cooperate with us.”

               “Personal space, buddy.”

               “Is it yes or no? What do you- what are you doing?”

               Mizar’s poking at his Adam’s apple. “I could totally strangle you right now. Huh.” She grins at him as he backs away. “Hey, people thinking I’m a serial killer ain’t so bad - I get personal space!”

               He glares back at her. “You need to keep taking this seriously, Mizar. If you aren’t going to help us, we will destroy you.”

               She doesn’t say anything for a moment. She swings the chain on her arm, sniffs and wipes her face, then grins a little wider. She starts to speak.

               “You know, I hate guys like you.” She points at the one way glass. “And you, mysterious radio lady. And guard in the back?” She glances at him. “Eh, you’re alright. But you two guys? Screw you, I’m not helping you.”

               “Then-”

               “Sure, arrest me. And sure, run my plates ‘cause I’m an idiot, ruin my life. You guys are doing your job, I don’t take it personally.” She leans forward, hands gripping the table. “But this? Screw this! You guys don’t know a single thing about me and you don’t care to know either - all you want to do is make me tell you about Mizar! I could be an actual serial killer and you still would’ve offered to let me off the hook! How messed up is that!”

               Iroy shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter-”

               “It does! You think I’m as bad as you say I am and you still wanna work with me? No! Screw you, I’ll go live in a hut in the woods if I have to!” She chuckles. “Or maybe I won’t even live on planet! Off world colonies, baby! I’ll go bounce around the Moon, or Venus, or- no, why am I saying this to you guys? You’re being dumb again, Jessica.”

               Jaqla scowls. “She’s not going to cooperate. Take her away.”

               “Oooh, take me away?” She puts her legs down, and strokes something in her lap. “What do you say about this, Al?”

               The dog - it’s back in her lap. Jaqla watches it yawn, and stretch, and...

               Beep, beep, beep.

               The magi-orb on her desk. It’s turned a sickly shade of yellow and is quickly darkening to a blood red. Her eyes widen - the wards !

               “What the hell?” Iroy’s backing away. “How do you have that thing again?”

               “Thing? Naww, this is Al! He's my buddy - my totally platonic buddy, since you guys were making it weird.” Mizar chuckles. “I kinda lied earlier when I said he was called Fluffy. He’s had a little bit too much yggsdrasil from the cultbashing earlier, but he took a nice nap and it looks like he’s feeling better! What do you say, Al?”

               Jaqla fumbles for her radio. “Get out of there! The wards are failing! Get-”

               Al opens one golden yellow eye, and the magi-orb shatters . The guard dashes out of the door, and Iroy backs himself into a corner, and Jaqla can only stand there, helpless as the demon fixes its gaze directly on her.

               It growls, and the lights flicker.

               “Aww, you still not totally over it?” Mizar strokes its shadowy fur. “I’m sorry, buddy. You up for a tesser, though? We can go to wherever they put all my stuff - I still have a packet of gummies left in my backpack!”

               Its ears perk up, and she laughs. Laughs .

               “Sounds good to me, too. We can sort out this huge mess later.”

               She looks up, then, and stares through the one way glass. Her smile… there’s an edge to it, a shine to it, an awful something that sends shivers down Jaqla’s spine. She pauses for a moment, like she’s thinking, and then shakes her head. She speaks again.

               “I’m not gonna kill you!” Laughter; it’s downright menacing. “I mean, I could! You guys’ve got a bajillion counts of murder against me already - what’s two more gonna do?”

               Iroy flattens himself even further against the wall, shaking his head. Jaqla is frozen in place, staring at Mizar, hearing her laugh fade out to a sigh, seeing her reach over and start to scratch the demon behind its ears.

               “Heh.” Her voice is quiet, now. “I’m so messed up. I think I’m gonna go now.”

               At that, she stands. The demon stands with her, its form bubbling out into a vaguely humanlike shadow. She’s still shackled to the table; she jangles the chain, and the demon bites it off.

               “Hehe, it’s like a weird bracelet.” There’s still a fair amount dangling from her wrist. She giggles as she swings it around. “I am so about to to take my eye out with this - I love it! C’mon, Al, let’s go!”

               The demon wraps its shadowy form around her. Jaqla sees the room twist , and then - they’re gone. They’re somewhere else, and she doesn’t know where that is. It could be anywhere .

               Iroy sinks to his knees in relief, but Jaqla can’t relax.

               Not when they’re out there. Mizar is supposed to be her responsibility, her project, and now she’s gone. Refused to cooperate, and escaped custody… this could look bad for her.

               She has to make some calls.

[douxreviews]

Cloak and Dagger - ‘Alignment Chart’ Review

"The next time you get mad at me for going out and doing something on my own? Remember this moment."

Cloak and Dagger's second season really starts to gel, in an episode that subverts our expectations in the best possible ways.

Pity about the framing device, though.

It's a difficult trick for a show to pull off, to have a character that the viewers are absolutely convinced is evil suddenly turn on a dime and be revealed to be good. It's an equally difficult task to do the reverse and have a character that the viewers trust completely suddenly be revealed as evil. Because in both cases you have to find ways to convince the audience enough of one thing, but not so much that it feels forced or unbelievable once you reveal that the opposite is true.  And you can't hedge your initial impressions of the character too much or everyone is going to see the reveal coming.

The good people at Cloak and Dagger managed both this week, and I never saw either of them coming for even a moment.

Well played, Cloak and Dagger writers' room. Extraordinarily well played.

At the end of the previous episode we saw Connors, the unambiguously bad, comprehensibly evil foe from season one released from the dark dimension inside of Ty Johnson. When last seen, our unrepentant villain was scrambling out of the window of the abandoned church, and enough time had been spent during that episode examining Ty's fears as to whether he'd be able to stop Connors from hurting his family again if he ever got out that we never for a moment questioned that that's what Connors would want to do. The focus was entirely on the question 'can we stop him', nicely misdirecting us from the question 'Is that what Connors is likely to do?'

Because, if you think about it for a moment, Connors has spent eight months trapped alone inside a dimension who's entire raison d'etre is to scare the holy crap out of people with their own sins. Scared straight is what Cloak's cloak does, and while I admit it hasn't been overtly presented that way to a great extent yet in the show, they certainly hinted at it enough in last week's episode for us to put the pieces together when Connors reveals his abrupt about face toward penitence here.

It was a good structural decision as well to only show him collecting all of his things without dialog for the first half of the episode. It very much read as sinister while being totally explicable once we're told that he was collecting the evidence against himself to give to Ty. Gold stars to J.D. Evermore tonight. His ability to simultaneously express that degree of fear and self loathing really sold the reveal.

My only minor quibbles with this side of the story are that Ty and his father were awfully slow to start believing that Connors repentance might be genuine. Which is totally fair and believable, given what he did to their family, but felt a little repetitive as a televised drama. Also, I understand that they're plotting an adventure story, and so the heist to get the magic file of concrete proof to get Ty's name cleared was as good a plot device as any, but even in New Orleans, Connors confession with the items of evidence that he produced to verify his story would have been sufficient.

Besides, I suspect at least part of the point to that plot thread was building up to us meeting Connors' Senator Uncle later on. I can't imagine that he'll be a good guy.

And let's be absolutely clear on one point, because the show went out of its way to be clear. Connors' remorse is absolutely genuine. When Ty shows him his greatest fear it's him putting handcuffs on himself over and over again only to have them fall off over and over again. He's afraid of not being allowed to be punished.

On the other side of the coin, Tandy gets in deep with Lea, the leader of her abuse survivors support group in what can only be charitably describes as a hail Mary attempt to get more information about who's abducting the girls by going after Lea's ex-boyfriend who apparently is untouchable because he grows an extraordinary amount of pot.

And yes, when you lay it out like that, that plot line doesn't really make a fig of sense. But the good news is that it doesn't really have to, since it only exists to set up the reveal that Lea is coordinating the abductions. Well staged, on that particular moment; the ambulance appeared in shot just long enough for the penny to begin to drop before Lea unleashed her taser. Really well structured, and the earlier reveal about Connors secretly having turned good was both a nice mirror for Lea being evil, but also had us wrong footed enough that we didn't see this reveal coming any more than we had the Connors' one. As a group counselor for abused women, Lea had been implicitly 'vouched for' as being a decent person, but of course it makes perfect sense that she would use the group to identify women that no one will miss in order to abduct them.

Which brings me to the framing device of Tandy telling an unseen group of revelers a tedious story about a farmer and a viper. It's a thinly veiled spin on the 'frog gives a scorpion a ride' anecdote, and I can't imagine that anyone was surprised with where the story went or what the moral was. That said, the subtle red/blue lighting notes were a nicely understated clue as to where she really was while she was dreaming this, and in hindsight the message 'people who you are trying to help might turn around and hurt you' was a warning about where Tandy's storyline was going, not Ty's, so that's a nice rug pull. At the end of the day, one thing that this show has difficulty with is it's tendency to experiment with theatrical framing devices that come off as a little heavy handed and forced. Still, 'try's too hard' is hardly the worst sin a show can commit.

Bits and Pieces:

-- Apparently Mayhem is still in the dark dimension, and her absence seems to be making Brigid fall apart. That tracks, if they're sharing a soul.

-- I wonder if Brigid ever wondered why her refrigerator was beaten up and laying in the stairwell when she got out of the hospital. Like, I absolutely would have asked some followup questions about that.

-- The ongoing theme of the last couple of episodes seems to be that Ty and Tandy need to stop trying to work alone and need to start teaming up.

-- Otis is making a new cloak! I love Otis.

-- Tandy is understandably worried about her mother having a couple of drinks, which is fair. But she overreacts to her mother meeting a doctor and tries to turn it into some sort of class issue as an excuse to project some more or her own survivor-anger.

-- Tandy's mom likes Ty. Ty's mom does not like Tandy.

-- Leaving someone who hurts you is not easy.

-- Very nice call back to Maman Brigitte's symbol and the way they use it to bring Ty face to face with Connors.

-- It's totally not safe to do that with bullets though. Under no circumstances try that at home.

-- Connors kept instinctively putting Billy's death in the passive voice and getting corrected on it. To his credit, he seemed to accept the correction and eventually stopped trying phrasing it that way.

-- Otis says he's making the new cloak for himself. That does not bode well for him surviving the season, does it.

-- Lea doesn't know about Tandy's powers. What on earth was she expecting to happen at the big pot warehouse?

-- Fuchs first name was apparently 'Kenneth'. I confess myself disappointed.

Quotes:

Tandy: "Apparently there's no cell reception in your hoodie."

Tandy: "Can I talk to them?" Andre: "The angel and the shadow?" Tandy: "No, the rescued girls."

Lea: "Seems like your ex brought out the worst in you, not the best." Tandy: "Is it possible someone can do both?"

Ty: "Your mom done freaking out?" Tandy: "She was. But then I freaked her out all over again."

Tandy: "In order for her to tell me more, I need to find some common ground." Ty: "So... so, who am I? Your abusive boyfriend or your pimp?" Tandy: "I mean, either one will do." Ty: "So you called your black friend." Tandy: "No, I called my best friend." Ty's right to be angry on this one, but I can't help but wonder if she'd said 'only' friend that his response might have been a little different. Because it's true.

A solid episode with just a few minor quibbles. I'm loving how this season is shaping up. 

Three out of four missing refrigerators.

Mikey Heinrich is, among other things, a freelance writer, volunteer firefighter, and roughly 78% water.

[silverloreley]

WIP part 1

Okay, this is for @26ja who agreed to read some bits and pieces of a WIP ff I started writing... I don’t really remember when. It’ll likely take me years to finish it (I’m busy and I work on multiple projects depending on the inspiration). As such, there are holes and a lot of things to refine, but it has the general vibe.

Anyway, it’s a rewriting of the 4th Cave of the Golden Rose movie, with a slight crossover (one Disney character. I just love her too much and she fits well into the plot imho). The bits will be under the cut, it’ll make for some long posts, so,  for the mobile users, you can block the tag “cotgr wip ff” I’m going to use for those snippets.

1) not the start of the ff, but the start of the real changes. After the first half, where Fantaghirò was killed by Darken, Tarabas agrees to a blind condition to bring her back to life.

«What do you want me to do?» Tarabas asked, ready to give up to whatever mad request Darken could make. The shock of Fantaghirò's death was still too strong, even if the Master of Evil agreed to restore her to life, the former wizard wouldn't risk another confrontation, not when there was still the chance for him to kill the queen of Tuan for good. Darken, knowing well all of this, smiled maliciously and expressed his will: «In one of the cells, there is a peculiar prisoner. You'll recognize it because there are no flowers around it. I want you to kill the prisoner...» he handled a sturdy looking, rough stone sword «With this» «Who is this person? Why do you want his death so bad?» «It's because of the very powerful magic held in that undeserving human body. The sword will allow you to take this magic, making you as powerful as you used to be. With just one life you'll have a great power again» «Tarabas, don't! You'll be evil again if you kill an innocent!» «Sadly, I never said “innocent”. The one you're about to kill is guilty of terrible crimes» At the curious moment of silence at the announcement, he went on «The first crime: a curse, that turned an entire kingdom, a florid place in its best summer, in an eternally frozen wasteland. Then, not happy, the second deed: when the princess of the kingdom tried to stop the ordeal, her heart had been infected with ice, turning her into an ice statue little by little» «What is your problem? I thought you liked evil deeds» «When someone like us performs them!» the Evil Master exclaimed, somehow indignant at a concept that was obvious only in his devious mind «But no time for politics. Let's go, you'll coat this sword with the blood of the Winterborn and your magic will be great again, stronger than ever with the power of snow and ice!» «What if I won't?» «I'll kill them all, one by one, in the most painful ways I know. And this time, you can be sure no one will come back from the land of the dead» «You have to refuse!» «It's just one human life. One guilty human life in exchange for all of your innocent ones. It doesn't even sound that evil, after all» he reasoned «Perhaps, once he'll be in his right mind again, Tarabas will kill you all too» «Never» he spat. «We will see, boy. We will see» he murmured maliciously, then made a grand gesture towards one of the corridors «Shall we go?» The cell was indeed the only one not covered in the horrible carnivorous flowers and getting closer to it the reason became clear: albeit being in the depths of the earth, the temperature in that spot was freezing, like full winter on a high mountain's peek. Snow covered the floor and no bars were in sight, only columns that partially covered the sight and frozen vines dead on the ground, covered in snow and ice thicker as every step. At some point, it was visible a chain, dark and pulsing with magic, shaking at any attempt of the prisoner to move. When the former sorcerer finally got sight of the prisoner, he was a little taken aback: there lied, asleep, a young woman in early twenties at most, with skin as pale as the snow around her and braided hair of the lightest blonde he had ever seen. Her turquoise skirt sparkled even in the faint light and so did the light cape that covered the rest of her frame, which had a snowflakes design foreign and enchanting at the same time. Her veiled sleeves were torn at the wrists where she was bound by the chains, the skin there was tainted in red and black spots, the result of her fight against the cuffs. Her furrowed brows spoke of pain and her lips thinned in the motion of her face as she clenched her fists and hissed, a tear escaped her closed eyes and ran down the exhausted face, that twisted with sufferance. «Here! Your pray caught for you and I must say, it wasn't easy as it seems to keep her here. She's far too powerful for normal bindings and a mere cell. No, I had to create...» «Chains made from fear» Tarabas competed and, as to praise him, the chains shortened, pulling the girl's arms a bit more. The elder looked amused «Yes. Her own fears are her limit, her binding rule and the spell I put on her keeps her mind in a sleep full of nightmares. Either you kill her...» he moved to caress the chains «Or she will feed those chains so much they will pull further and further until they rip her limbs away» «You're a sadistic monster!» «Of course I am! I am darkness, Evil in its purest form!» «Wake her!» «Why so? Oh, I get it! So you can see her face when you end her life, see the light fading from her eyes. Look» he gestured toward the girl «The spell is wearing off, soon she'll be awake» She was, in fact, waking up, beautiful ice-blue eyes opened and looked around in confusion. At the sight of the two men she tried to get up and she managed to get on her knees, only to be kept in place by the chains. She grimaced for the hurt in her arms, fear evident in her wide-opened eyes. «Who are you? Where am I?» «Silence! You're in presence of the Masters of all Evil. You're only here to die» All of sudden, the air around the young woman froze and at the same time, the chains pulled her. A gasp of pain escaped her lips and she looked at the restraints the bound her limbs. She raised her eyes towards the assaulters, nothing but fear in her gaze. Tarabas couldn't believe such pure eyes could hide a malicious soul and he held the sword with unsteady hands. «Why?» she asked, chin up and trembling lips. «That's always the question, isn't it?» Darken reprimanded «You useless mortals don't recognize your lives have no value other than pawns in a bigger game. Even you» he made to touch her face, but she recoiled. Darken grabbed her chin anyway «All this power and the wrong hands to hold it. But worry not, you'll be relieved of it soon» «Stop it!» Tarabas ordered. He grabbed the elder's hand away with a brusque motion and furthered it from the girl's face. The other didn't seem upset by the sudden outburst. If anything, he seemed pleased: «That's a bit of nerve I see? Use it well then, and abide our deal» he urged. The girl's eyes switched to him. In the artificial light of the fake paradise, turned there into a winter ruin, her pale face drained of all colour at the sight of the stone sword. «If you want my magic,» she said, pleaded «You can have it. It's nothing but a curse to me, it always was. I won't fight for it, there's no reason to kill me...» [...] He swung the sword, but didn't hit her body. She felt the air move beside her, close to her face and past her frame, just before the pull on her wrist subsided. When she opened her eyes, finding the courage to look, she saw the sword that was supposed to end her life was deep into the ground, the chain that bound her broken by it. Tarabas' body was still hunched over the weapon, his face at the same level as hers. «I'm not evil. I'll never be so again» he was murmuring. His green eyes were too on the sword, then met her blue ones. Her features gleamed with relief and gratitude and nothing, no spite or sense of victory, made him think of a wicked soul. In that moment he had the certainty she was, after all, innocent. He was now sure: sparing her life was the right thing to do. Darken's enraged scream shook the underground and took Tarabas out his epiphany.

[qqueenofhades]

the tangled web of fate we weave: xx

welcome to what is absolutely gonna me losing my goddamn mind over these two all week and double hard after the finale. so, the ush.

part xix/AO3

Lucy wakes up the next morning (well, she’s already been up twice, at one AM and then at four, and by the time she is summoned again at seven, figures there’s no point in going back to bed) and shuffles downstairs to find that Amy, wonderful soul that she is, already has the coffee going. Lucy sits down with a groan, shifts Lily to her other shoulder, and lets the life-giving fumes waft up her nose. This will be her first proper hit of caffeine in months, and she is ready to feel good, dammit. As she sits there basking, she says, “Did you talk to Garcia before he left this morning? He was gone pretty early.”

“I woke up as he was coming downstairs, but we didn’t talk.” Amy pulls the pot off, pours it into two mugs, adds cream and sugar to hers, and gives Lucy hers black. “I figured he was off to grab his evidence backups, or wherever he was going. Or that you were both awake because of the munchkin.”

“I was. Briefly.” Lucy has a vague memory of Flynn getting up around the same time she was returning from the four o’clock feeding, but she was already falling asleep on her feet and was out by the time she hit the bed again. “Very briefly.”

Amy snorts, raising her mug. “In that case, here’s to caffeine. Sláinte.”

Lucy picks it up, takes a sip, and moans in ecstasy, unable to gulp it in embarrassing amounts because it’s still too hot. She blows on it a few times, then sips again, performing a delighted little wiggle from head to toe and scoffing at her sister’s smirk. “What? You try it!”

“I’m good, thanks,” Amy says. “But that was adorable. How are you feeling today?”

“A little better.” At least physically, Lucy thinks, though she’s still not up for any triathlons. The argument with Flynn yesterday rocked her, and she has the distinct sense that it has not been resolved or released, even if they did try to silently make it up last night. She starts to get up to make herself breakfast awkwardly one-handed, but Amy waves at her to sit and goes to put in some toast. “Amy, about this – this time travel stuff. Do you really buy it?”

“Everyone else seems to be serious about it, so…” Amy opens the fridge to get butter and jam. “I guess? I like to keep an open mind about things. You know me, I’ve always been into the idea of ghosts and aliens and parallel worlds and stuff beyond what we can see. That was what drove Mom crazy. You two being the sensible solid historians, the ones who worked with facts and logic and empirical evidence, and I was out there being all New Agey and woo-woo. Now, I guess – ” Amy stops, then continues in the determinedly casual voice that means she doesn’t want to be heaping too much of her own pain on Lucy, a shared trait of the Preston sisters. Wherever that compassion came from, it clearly wasn’t Carol. “Now I guess it doesn’t matter what she thought, huh?”

There’s a brief silence. Then Lucy says quietly, “I can’t believe she did that to us.”

“I can.” Amy unscrews the raspberry jam with more than the necessary force and digs her knife in. “I loved Mom – I still do, that’s not gonna stop, even if it’s complicated – but I could never understand how you couldn’t see her manipulating you. Her love always came at a price, her approval was always conditional, she never let you make mistakes, or at least live with them. She pushed and pushed and pushed, and you kept giving it to her and thinking it was your fault that you hadn’t been good enough before. That was why I wanted to move out, even if it meant I was living in a crappy apartment and struggling to pay my bills, rather than let her do to me what she did to you. And I could have spoken up more, I could have done something, rather than just assuming you were smart and you’d figure it out and it wasn’t my business to get into the middle of that. So. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. God, it’s not your fault.” Lucy gets up and hugs Amy fiercely, one-armed, Lily still snoozing in the other one. “You’re just my kid sister, you should never have had to do that. That shouldn’t have been on you.”

“Yeah,” Amy says, low-voiced. “Maybe. But it was, and I blew it.”

“No, you didn’t. Okay, Ames? You didn’t. You didn’t.” Lucy grips her shoulder hard. “We still have each other, and I have Garcia and Lily, and we’ll – we’ll make our own family. Family isn’t just blood. If this is going to be how it is, with us and Wyatt and Rufus, well – we’ll get used to it. It’ll be better.”

“I guess,” Amy says. She gathers herself together, and musters a smile. “But with all of this going on, it doesn’t seem like we’re about to have any cookouts or whatever soon, does it?”

“Maybe not, but we can do that later.” Even as she speaks it, the usual, casual reassurance – we can do that later, the assumption that’s always been the case for everyone everywhere – Lucy feels a pang. What if there is no later? What if all of earlier gets upended as well? She hesitates, then sits down with her toast, passing Lily over to Amy so she can properly eat. “I – look. Amy. I have something to tell you. It’s going to sound a little weird, but I guess you just reminded me that you can deal with it.”

Thus, not letting herself have time to change her mind, she tells Amy the full story of her future self coming to visit Flynn three years ago, the effect it had on him deciding to go great guns after Rittenhouse, insisting that it was time travel at stake, and the argument they had yesterday about it. Flynn thinking that the logical next step is to escalate the war before Rittenhouse can do it to them, that he has this insane plan of tracking and killing them through history, no matter the damage it could do to God knows what fiber of reality. That he scares her when he talks like that, she doesn’t know how she ends up as this other version of herself or if she wants to, and that he thinks Rittenhouse is trying to prevent them from ever meeting on the night of the car accident. That if they somehow pull it off, Lucy and Flynn will never meet, none of this will ever happen, and Lily won’t be born. A wrinkle in time, rather literally, but not one that can be fixed or unbent. They might not even know.

“Wait. Okay.” Amy has hung in there through most of this crazy shit, but she blinks hard at that. “How could someone just… vanish from history? Lily’s already born. She can’t just… not be born, right? How would that even work?”

“I don’t know.” Lucy sits back. “This is a situation that only comes up in those sci-fi movies, or Back to the Future, when Marty McFly has to make sure his parents get together so he exists. But I suppose that yes, theoretically, if they had the ability to change the timeline and stop us from meeting, she’d just… not be there.”

Amy clutches her niece protectively. “That is messed up.”

“Yeah.” Lucy finishes the last swig of her now lukewarm coffee, and pushes her empty plate away. “Not to mention all the other stuff that would change. I might never know about Benjamin Cahill, I wouldn’t know about Mom, or Rittenhouse, or Wyatt and Rufus. I would never have met Garcia. I’d just be – I don’t know. I don’t know who I’d be. Probably still at Stanford anyway, living the life Mom wanted for me. Still dating Noah.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Amy says. “In any timeline, you can do better than him.”

Lucy laughs weakly, despite herself. “He wasn’t that bad. He was a good guy.”

“Sure,” Amy says. “For someone else. Anyway. This is – this is definitely a lot, but thanks for telling me. We’ll figure it out, okay? We won’t let Wicked Witch Whitmore take this away from you. Did you say she works at Mason Industries? Can we ask Rufus?”

“Ask Rufus what? If he can fetch his evil coworker in for a chat, after she almost killed Flynn the last time she saw him, and destroyed all of his evidence on Rittenhouse? He’s probably in all kinds of danger if he does that, he might not even know who she really is.”

“Maybe not. Should we warn him, though? We don’t want him accidentally letting something slip, if he doesn’t know that she isn’t to be trusted.”

“Maybe, but then he has to see her every day and know she’s dangerous and…” Lucy stops. “No, you’re right. He deserves to know the truth. Mason Industries seems neck-deep with Rittenhouse anyway, they’re the ones paying for the time machine. It’s not fair to Rufus to just dangle him out in that sea of sharks.”

“He might know about it,” Amy points out. “He’s worked there for a while. There might be more he could tell us. Like how close it is to being operational, and – ”

Lucy shudders. “I don’t want it to be.”

“Because you’re afraid Garcia’s going to do – what?” Amy considers her closely. “Steal it, and go hog-wild screwing up history in the name of eradicating Rittenhouse?”

“Yeah.” Lucy hates admitting it, feels disloyal, but she doesn’t entirely trust what Flynn would do if that was an option right now. “Basically.”

“Maybe Rufus can sabotage it.” Amy gets up to clear the dishes from the table. “If he knows the truth about these people and what they’re going to do with it, then – ”

“That would put him in terrible danger,” Lucy objects. “It could cost him his job, his professional reputation. We definitely have no right to ask that of him.”

“Okay, true.” There’s a slight edge in Amy’s voice. “But if we are really going to stop these Rittenhouse maniacs, if everything you say is true and they are completely evil and willing to do whatever it takes to preserve that, maybe we have to figure out what we can ask, and of who.”

Lucy looks at her, startled and unsettled. “Don’t tell me you agree with Garcia.”

“I don’t know, frankly. And obviously I see where you’re coming from too. But at this point…” Amy trails off. “I’m not sure that I don’t not agree with him.”

Lucy doesn’t know what to say to that. Perhaps it’s significant that the two people she loves and trusts the most in the world have now had the same response to the situation, and she – just like her years-long pattern of making excuses for her mother, refusing to see what Amy is now telling her was obvious – is once more dragging her feet, reluctant to upset the apple cart as usual. But if this apple cart is all of time and space and known history, Lucy thinks she’s at least a little justified in keeping it upright. She’s a historian, she loves the past, she’s worked to understand it, to make it relevant to the present, to teach it in meaningful and engaging ways. That gives her some sort of mandate to be its champion, to protect it – whether from Rittenhouse, or from the man she loves. It twists and twists in her gut, it hurts almost physically, but she’s certain. She can’t let Flynn do this.

When she doesn’t answer, Amy seems to sense that she probably shouldn’t push. They clean up the kitchen, as Lucy puts Lily in the baby-sling and tries to think what to do. It’s almost nine o’clock, so she’d usually be at campus by now, unlocking her office and picking up papers and answering emails. She’s not used to sitting around the house and doing nothing, especially when there’s so much that needs to be figured out. Yes, being a mother is important work and all that, and Lucy’s not going to diss stay-at-home moms in the least (especially since she’s getting a sense of just how hard it must be), but she does other things with her time and her talents. She can’t just serve as a dispenser of food and clean diapers and naptime to an occasionally irascible small human, much as she loves her. She should do some research. See what she can find. Not that any of what she needs is likely to be online, or anything that she can get into (Flynn is another story) but still.

Lucy goes upstairs to get her laptop, and when she comes down, glances at her phone, thinking that there should be a text from him by now. They’re far from the kind of couple that constantly has to monitor the other’s whereabouts – they are both adults and can come and go as they please, without signing a register every time. But given everything that’s going on, and the fact of what happened the last time he rushed out without telling her what he was doing, Lucy doesn’t think she’s being unreasonable to expect at least some kind of touching base. He wouldn’t intentionally make her worry, or withhold contact just to be petty. Maybe he just forgot or didn’t want to bother her. She opens their chat and types, Hey, where are you? Left pretty early this am. Lmk when you have a minute. Xo.

Hopefully that doesn’t sound too worried or accusing, and Lucy puts her phone aside. She has just been trying to find the best way to position both Lily and her laptop when she hears a car in the driveway, and looks up. “Amy, is that Garcia?”

Amy peers out the front window. “Nope. It’s Wyatt. He has some lady with him, actually. Looks important.”

“Oh no, that must be the woman from Homeland Security.” Lucy jumps up, acutely aware that she has not yet showered and is still in her pajamas, as well as not wearing any makeup. “Is it rude if I run upstairs for five minutes to make myself presentable?”

“Honestly, this is your house,” Amy says. “And you just had a baby. You can look however you want.”

Lucy supposes this is true, even if she still feels self-conscious, as footsteps click on the walk and the doorbell rings. Amy gets it, admitting Wyatt (who looks as if he’s had at least a little sleep) and his companion, a trim, dark-eyed older woman with black hair cut neatly to her shoulders, a crisp pantsuit, and a folder under one arm, which she shifts so that she and Lucy can shake hands. “I’m Denise Christopher,” she says. “Department of Homeland Security. Sergeant Logan asked if I could stop by and hear something that you had to say?”

“It’s – it’s complicated.” Lucy nods gratefully at Wyatt, then tries to jiggle Lily with one arm as she wakes up and starts to fret. “My partner, Garcia, he’s the one who has most of it, and he’s out right now, but I’ll be happy to give you what I know. Just let me have a couple minutes to run upstairs, I’m sorry, I’m not very – ”

“I’ll be happy to take your baby for a minute.” Denise holds out her arms. “Don’t worry about apologizing. Go upstairs and freshen up if you want to, but certainly don’t feel obliged to dress up on my account.”

Lucy considers Denise for a long moment, and decides to trust her. She undoes the sling and hands Lily over to Denise, who boosts her expertly up onto her shoulder, pats her back with an air of firm authority, and gets her to calm down. It’s the reassuring older-woman motherly-competence thing that Lucy was wishing she could still lean on Carol for, and it briefly chokes her up. “I – ah, I’m sorry, I’m guessing you have kids?”

“My wife and I have two in grade school,” Denise says. “The early days can be hard. Do you mind if we have a seat in your kitchen?”

“That’s fine. I’ll be right back.”

With that, Lucy goes upstairs, jumps quickly in the shower, dresses, puts on a little makeup and brushes her hair, then checks her phone again. No response from Flynn; the message hasn’t been read. Renewed agitation prickles at her heart like thorns. God, he’s just been gone, he’s just been hurt. Please don’t say he’s off on another crusade already. Please.

She tells herself she can’t send another message yet, but she calls him anyway, and it goes over to voicemail without ringing. There’s too much of a lump in her throat for her to form words, so she hangs up, smiles bright and falsely at herself in the mirror, and walks back downstairs. Amy has taken care of supplying Wyatt and Denise with coffee, and they’re sitting at the kitchen table; Denise has a notepad open and is uncapping a pen. “All right,” she says. “Please tell me whatever you know about this organization called Rittenhouse.”

Lucy and Wyatt exchange a look, he nods at her to go first, and she takes a deep breath. Starts at the beginning, tells Denise about Cahill and the event in Marin County and Flynn rescuing her, then getting shot in Windsor the next morning. The trip to the University of Pennsylvania, Emma, the excursion to the house of horrors in West Point, escaping that and going back to some semblance of a normal life, but sending Flynn off for two years to hunt them around the world. The reveal that her mother was in on it, and that Flynn’s painstakingly collected evidence has been destroyed. Tells Denise everything, in fact, except about the time travel. She doesn’t want to sound completely off the ranch first thing.

A faint line gathers between Denise’s brows as Lucy speaks, and remains there when she’s finished. Denise taps her pen, clearly considering what to say, then looks at Wyatt. “And you’ve said that the Black Eagles case we both worked on had something to do with that, didn’t you? That they were funneling the drug profits to Rittenhouse somehow, and that they may have had something to do with the disappearance of your wife?”

“I think so.” Wyatt’s jaw sets hard. “Flynn does, at any rate, and he’s the expert on this. Though I notice he’s not here, again. But yeah. Thought that because I messed around with one of their golden gooses, they came after Jess in revenge. She’s alive, I swear she’s still alive. If it was just killing her, wouldn’t her body have turned up by now, a warning to stay in my lane or whatever? If she’s just gone, she has to still be out there. If we can save her.”

“I’m not unsympathetic to what both of you have gone through,” Denise says crisply. “This does fit with several other unexplained cases that have passed over my desk recently, and obviously you have encountered someone. But right now, all I have to back it up is your word, and that’s not something I can take to my superiors. It sounds like a paranoid conspiracy theory, and the government spends enough time with those. You said there was evidence that was destroyed. Where?”

“I…” Lucy hesitates. “I don’t know exactly. Garcia never told me where his safe house was, he didn’t want me liable. It’s somewhere up in the foothills outside San Francisco, but now it’s been blown up. So that’s not very – ”

“And why does your partner have an off-the-grid safe house that’s rigged with enough explosives to detonate at the drop of a hat?” Denise cocks her head and surveys Lucy critically. “You said he’s ex-special forces. For us?”

“He worked for the NSA for several years, it’s where he picked up the investigation on Benjamin Cahill in the first place. He’s been a – a freelancer for a while, though.”

“Hmmm.” Denise is clearly thinking that there are a lot more threads she could pull at this, given that the vast majority of Flynn’s activities since Lucy met him have been skirting the very edges of legality. “And where is he from again, exactly?”

“He was born and raised in Croatia, but his mother was American, he’s a dual citizen. He’s not a security risk.” Even as she speaks, Lucy can hear Flynn last night, saying that if America couldn’t survive losing Rittenhouse, maybe it doesn’t deserve to exist. “He’s a little… idiosyncratic, but his heart is in the right place. He’s just very opinionated, he’s done this for a long time, and he’s used to working alone.”

“I’d like to talk to him,” Denise says. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“Soon, I’m sure.” Lucy damn well hopes so, at any rate. “Can I offer you any more coffee?”

Denise assures her that she’s fine, and starts asking them some more questions about Rittenhouse – any other names or dates or details they can remember. Lucy and Wyatt exchange a glance, as they’re not sure they should bring Mason Industries into the fray without Rufus here. Low-voiced, Lucy asks, “Should we call him? Is he at work?”

“Yeah, he’s at work,” Wyatt says. “He was acting a little weird this morning, though. Maybe we should give him a day off from the insanity.”

“Maybe.” Lucy has a brief unsettled feeling, though she can’t say why. “But this is something we need to tell her about.”

Wyatt looks back at the kitchen table where Denise is writing; they have stepped off around the corner to have a private word. Then he says, even more quietly, “Tell the government that Connor Mason’s invented a time machine and hasn’t bothered to apply for so much as a parking permit? Yeah, I can see that going really well. The place would be covered in red tape and federal agents tomorrow. There’s not any guarantee that that would go any better than Rittenhouse getting their hands on it. I vote no.”

This is essentially what Flynn said earlier, but Lucy can sense another resistance behind it. She tips her chin back to look at him. “You want to use that machine yourself, don’t you?”

Wyatt grimaces, but more as an unspoken admission that he’s been caught, rather than really denying it. He glances at Denise, then moves them a little further out of earshot into the hall. “Come on,” he says. “A time machine? A time machine? Who gets that chance, ever? We’re supposed to – what, hand it over to a bunch of cubicle-farm, pen-pusher bureaucrats who’d keep it in mothballs for eighty rounds of paperwork? No way. Rufus says they’re running advanced tests now, it’s pretty much going to be up and ready to go in a matter of months. If that’s the case, then – I can go back, I can fix my mistake, I can save Jess. Whether or not Rittenhouse ever coughs her up, it wouldn’t matter. I have to.”

“It’s – ” Lucy hesitates. “Wyatt, it’s not that easy. You can’t travel on your own timeline, you can’t go back to 2012, you wouldn’t be able to just pop in and have a re-do with her. You could only go back to somewhere before you were born.”

By the look on Wyatt’s face, that is something he does not like hearing. He whirls on his heel, stares at the wall, then whirls back. “There has to be a loophole. Someone has to have tried it. I don’t care if it’s risky, I’d only have to do it once. Or – what?”

Lucy winces. She doesn’t want to tell him about the whole future-version-of-her visiting Flynn, as that seems like it will get his hopes up in a way that will not necessarily be borne out. “I… heard about a case in which it might be possible,” she says evasively. “But I really don’t know the details.”

“Well, who does?” Wyatt glances at her, picks it up. “Flynn?”

“He – he knows something, but – ”

“Make him tell you, then. You’re married, or close enough. I’d tell my wife, I’d tell her everything, I wouldn’t keep it back. He’s MIA right now again, apparently, but whenever he gets back – he still owes me that information, remember? For what I did?”

“I know, I know.” Lucy can sense his barely restrained frustration and anger and grief, and she doesn’t blame him. Wyatt has been living in a stalemate, using up all his accumulated leave from the Army, where – frankly speaking – he would probably be happier, because at least another mission would keep him out of the squalid attic of his head. He and Rufus have become good friends, it’s better that they’re roommates than it would be if Wyatt was alone, but he still knows no more about Jessica’s fate than he did on the day she vanished. That’s a horrible way to live, one that Lucy would not wish on her worst enemy, and he deserves a breakthrough, to do something with all this. “I’m sure he’ll find it.”

Wyatt makes a noise in his throat that says he isn’t sure. His fingers tap neurotically against his thigh, a muscle works in his cheek. He looks like a man on the hair-trigger of an explosion, and Lucy, who is somewhat familiar with the sight, reaches out to put a hand on his arm. “Hey. Thanks for bringing Denise by, all right? Thank you.”

Wyatt’s blue eyes flick to her, startled, and they hold each other’s gazes for a moment. He coughs. Then he says gruffly, “Yeah. No problem.”

Lucy looks back at him, not sure what she’s about to say, when they’re distracted by the sound of the front door banging open. There’s only one person who would be entering the house like that, and she hurries down the hallway in abject relief. “Garcia?”

Sure enough, it’s him, looking windswept and grumpy, but at least no more banged up than when he went out. He looks at her in some surprise as she throws her arms around his neck, and allows her to pull his head down for a kiss. “Lucy, what – ?”

“I was just…” Lucy bites her lip. “I woke up, and you were gone again. I – I was worried.”

“I’m here now,” Flynn says, more than a little unhelpfully. “Is that Wyatt’s car out front?”

“Yes, he’s here. With Denise Christopher from Homeland Security, he brought her by. She’s in the kitchen, she wants to talk to you. She wants whatever evidence you have on Rittenhouse – is that what you were doing this morning? Getting the backups?”

Flynn shakes his head. “No, I didn’t get those.”

“What were you doing, then?”

“Later.” Flynn kicks off his shoes and strides into the kitchen like a Panzer brigade. He has clearly dialed the imposing factor up to eleven, and Lucy isn’t sure this is the best way to approach a federal agent who has already been asking a few pointed questions about his recent activities. She trots after him, feeling that a sudden need to play mediator might be called for, and steps in just as Flynn is staring at Denise, who in turn is staring back at him. There’s a pause. Then Flynn barks, “So you’re her?”

“Yes.” Denise gets to her feet and offers a coolly professional hand. “Agent Denise Christopher, from Homeland Security. You must be Garcia Flynn.”

Flynn grunts, as if to say that he is exercising his constitutional right not to answer stupid questions. Then he glances at Wyatt, who has stepped back into the kitchen, and something flickers across his face. Lucy can’t tell exactly what, but it unsettles her, somehow. Then Flynn says, equally ungraciously, “You’re here, I see.”

“Yeah. I brought her.” Wyatt stares back at him challengingly. “Because at least one of us follows through with what we said we were going to do.”

Flynn’s mouth twists. He moves to the coffee pot, discovers it’s empty, makes a noise of aggravation, and starts a fresh round. The silence remains tense and awkward as it brews, until Amy sticks her head in. “Hey, Garcia.”

Flynn makes a brief acknowledgment. “Where’s Lily?”

“In her bassinet thingy, in the living room. After Lucy and I looked after her this morning.” Amy’s tone is gentle, but pointed. “Feel like filling us in on where you were?”

“Apparently I have a lot of filling in I’m expected to do.” Flynn jabs the percolator, as if this is going to make it brew faster. “One at a time, eh?”

Amy raises both eyebrows at Lucy, who decides that for now, she’ll pretend she didn’t see that, and withdraws. Once the coffee is finished, Flynn splashes it into a cup and practically kicks out the chair across from Denise, sitting down with a jerk. “Well?”

“I have a few questions for you, yes.” Denise has managed to remain completely unfazed by the sight of a large man in a clearly foul temper, snorting and rampaging like a rhino stung by a wasp, since she is probably no stranger to it in her line of work. “If this is a bad time, I’d be happy to return later.”

“No. We’ll do it now.” Flynn swivels to face her with a wide, snarky smile. “Fire away!”

Denise utters a small sigh in the back of her throat, but commences going down the list. Flynn gives her a few answers, but when he remains utterly unforthcoming on the subject of his two years abroad, how exactly he tracked Rittenhouse, got money to do that, or basically anything whatsoever, she makes another, far more frustrated sound. “You know I can’t do my job with this if you don’t tell me anything, don’t you?”

“What do I have to tell you?” Flynn counters. “You asked me about Rittenhouse. That’s what I’m giving you.”

“You haven’t answered half my questions.”

“Maybe you should stop trying to get me to incriminate myself, then.”

“Is that an admission that you have something that might?”

“How did I know you were going to say that?” Flynn stands up fast enough to almost knock over his chair. “Still sitting there thinking that Rittenhouse is just some paranoid delusion and the real problem here is me, aren’t you? Asking all these clever questions about, let’s be frank, things that are not relevant to the investigation, so you can finger me as the culprit. Either act like you really have come here to help, or get out of my house.”

“Garcia – ” Lucy starts. “Garcia, don’t – ”

Flynn completely ignores her, still staring evilly at Agent Christopher, who stares right back. Then Denise says, “I came here as a favor to Sergeant Logan, to hear about some evil secret society that’s supposedly implanted in all levels of American government, that’s been responsible for a long-term private terror campaign, is partially funded by drug cartels, and has unknown operational capabilities, and whatever else. Don’t insult me by acting like I wouldn’t care about that, if it was real. But if all you’re going to do is rant and rave at me and offer not a single scrap of concrete proof, there isn’t much that I can, or frankly want, to do for you. Now, are we going to keep talking or not?”

“As long as you don’t – ”

At that, Lucy clears her throat. Steps forward, and says, in the dangerously sweet voice that every man recognizes if he knows what’s good for him, “Honey? A word?”

Flynn glances at her almost guiltily, but Lucy doesn’t bother to wait and see if the realization has struck on its own. She jerks her head at him, and he hesitates, then gets up and follows her. She leads them down the hall, away from both the kitchen and the living room, shuts the door, then turns on him. “You stop it right now. Right now.”

Flynn blinks. “I – ”

“Be quiet, I’m talking. I’m not even going to ask you what you were doing this morning, though frankly I would be entirely within my rights to do so, but if you keep bellowing and stamping and posing like a bull in the ring, I might change my mind. Denise is here as a favor to Wyatt. She doesn’t have to be here, she didn’t have to spend most of the morning listening to us, and she definitely doesn’t have to sit there and swallow you acting like a jackass. We barely have any allies in this as it is. Are you going to drive them off because they’re not you? Or maybe you have some better idea about who we should be talking to, some other contact who’s willing to come out here and work this through? Or are you just acting like this because Wyatt brought her, and you have some kind of hangup about Wyatt right now? More than usual, that is?”

Flynn flinches. He opens his mouth, then shuts it. Finally, he says, “I – I didn’t – ”

“Just don’t.” Lucy feels incredibly tired, in a way far deeper even than the first-night fatigue of dealing with a baby. “Either answer her questions like a human being, or tell her to go, if you’re somehow so sure we can do this without any outside help at all. For the record, I don’t think we can. But you’re the expert here, aren’t you?”

Flynn flinches again. A dawning awareness crosses his face that yes, he done fucked up, and he looks at the floor. Finally he says, “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Lucy isn’t going to hold out to punish him more, tempting as it might be, because that would go against what she just told him to do. “These people are on our side. Don’t lash out at them just because our enemies aren’t yet in reach.”

She sees a sigh shudder through him from head to heel. Again, quietly, he says, “I’m sorry, Lucy. I didn’t – I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.” Lucy steps closer and rests her hands on his chest, as his arms come around her waist. The usual way they find themselves standing when they’re close, tucked up in two neat halves. “I’m just – I’m worried sick, my mother just betrayed me, we have a newborn, and we’re trying to launch an investigation into these evil people, and those are only our somewhat ordinary problems. I need you to be there for me, Garcia. I need you. If any one man in the world could fight Rittenhouse, it’s you, but…” She stops. “Lily and I need you to be more than the soldier, all right? We need you. Just remember that. With what we’re doing, there can be secrets, but there can’t be lies. Not between us. All right?”

Flynn hesitates, then nods. Reaches up with one hand, takes hers, and raises it to his mouth to kiss her fingers. “I don’t think either of us want a fancy wedding,” he says gruffly. “Though if you do, we can work it out. Still, even if it’s just at the courthouse, I want to properly marry you.  That is, if you – ”

“Me too.” It’s not a very traditional proposal, though they’re far from a traditional couple, but Lucy feels a smile wide enough to hurt her face starting to spread across it. “I – I want it. Very much. Now can we go back and finish talking to Denise properly?”

Flynn nods, bends down to kiss her quickly, and that’s it, that’s all the discussion they need. They walk back to the kitchen, where everyone looks slightly thrown by the delighted grins – they definitely were not expecting for Lucy to drag Flynn off in trouble and them to then return engaged – but decides not to ask. Flynn sits down and answers (most of) Denise’s further questions in a markedly more conciliatory tone, as Wyatt catches Lucy’s eye and is clearly very curious to know what happened there. Lucy mouths later, goes to the living room to check on Lily and Amy, and glances occasionally at the kitchen to see if she needs to run interference. Amy, spotting her face, says, “That’s not exactly the expression I thought you were going to have, to be honest.”

“I… told him off. It felt good.” Lucy shrugs awkwardly. “And we decided to actually get married, so there was that.”

Amy snorts. “Deciding to get married in between an argument about the best way to take down Rittenhouse? Sounds like you two.”

“I guess.” Lucy thinks of Noah’s first proposal, which checked all the romantic boxes: sunset on the beach, champagne, rose petals in the picnic basket and a ring tied with a tulle ribbon. Sweet speech that started off with how some author or poet had once defined love, and explaining how she fit that for him. It was nice and he had clearly put thought into it, and she felt very bad about turning him down. Saying that she really liked him, but they were still young, and it felt early. He took it as best as he could, and they sat awkwardly side by side without talking much for the rest of the night. Tried to stay in the relationship for a few more weeks after that, but a failed marriage proposal is kind of a sign that you aren’t on the same page, and they decided to go their separate ways. God, that feels like forever ago. Looking back on herself, trying to get back together just because she didn’t want to be lonely, makes Lucy feel vaguely embarrassed. And yet, a little frightened. Her relationship with Flynn is nothing like her relationship with Noah; she knows beyond a doubt that whatever time she has, she wants to be with him. But what if she ends up alone anyway? Or worse.

Fine, Lucy tells herself. She’s a big girl, an independent woman, she can live without a man. She’s certainly not wishing she picked Noah just because he might have a longer shelf life, and she doesn’t have any regrets. Anything she can do to tie herself and Flynn more concretely together, another reminder to the universe that they’re supposed to be this way, they chose it and they’ll keep it, also seems appealing. As he said, they don’t need fuss. Her mother was the one who envisioned a big white wedding. A courthouse ceremony is fine.

Hearing the interview winding down, Lucy gets up and goes back into the kitchen, as Denise is shutting her notepad and thanking Flynn for his cooperation in a still slightly pointed tone. As she’s reaching for her bag, she thinks of something, and glances at Lucy. “Your mother is Carol Preston? Former Stanford professor of women’s history, Carol Preston?���

“Yes.” Lucy grimaces. “As I said, she… can’t be trusted.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Denise unzips her purse and puts her things in. “I’ve read all your mother’s books, I very much enjoyed them. She shaped a lot of my thinking. I know it’s nothing to compare to what you must feel, but it’s disillusioning for me as well.”

“She… shaped a lot of my thinking too.” Lucy’s throat feels raw. So much of who she is, for better or for worse, as a woman, a scholar, an academic, is filtered through Carol’s lenses. They’ve been things Lucy has liked about herself for a long time. Even when her leave ends, can she just go back to Stanford and continue in that legacy? It feels like it would be very difficult to set foot in those hallowed halls again, much as she loves them, and keep pretending that she doesn’t know what she now knows. As if she already knows that she can’t go back. To that life, or that job, or that person, or that home.

Denise shakes their hands, tells them that she’ll try to see if she can pull anything solid out of it, and she and Wyatt leave. Once they’re gone, Lucy checks that Lily doesn’t need anything, then shuts the kitchen door and turns to Flynn. “Okay. Where did you go this morning?”

Flynn grimaces. “I thought you said you weren’t going to ask?”

“Yes,” Lucy says. “I know. And if there’s some very good reason you can’t tell me, I won’t ask again. But if it wasn’t getting the backup Rittenhouse evidence, then… where?”

There’s a long pause as Flynn leans against the counter, arms crossed. As usual, he looks too big for the room. Finally he says, “I was testing information.”

“What information?”

“Last night.” Flynn sounds reluctant, but he is keeping his promise not to lie to her. “I got a strange call, that’s why I got up. I don’t know who it was on the other end, it was scrambled, but it told me that the name I was looking for was Wes Gilliam. Repeated it several times to make sure I had it, then cut off. I don’t even know if it was a real person, it didn’t sound like one. I assume that the name is the one I promised Wyatt. About who is responsible for his wife’s disappearance.”

“Wes Gilliam?” Lucy blinks. “Is that who you were looking into?”

“Yes,” Flynn says. “I’m not some local cop. I still have my sources, my strings to pull, even without the safe house. Wes Gilliam is currently in jail in San Diego, he’s responsible for killing at least two other women. The blood at the crime scene that wasn’t Jessica’s, it was his. He wasn’t in prison when she went missing, so at least theoretically, he could have killed her. But they found the bodies of Gilliam’s other two victims, partially dressed and – ” He pauses briefly. “Sexually abused. They still haven’t found any trace of Jessica. It’s not quite his modus operandi. So I’m still not entirely sure.”

“But it’s a name,” Lucy says. Thinks of Wyatt’s anger earlier, that he’s been boxed in like this and is desperate to do something, anything, to put an end to the hellish limbo. Even possibly stealing a time machine, at which he might well agree with Flynn that that is the only way. “We promised him some kind of lead, any lead. We’re using too many people, Garcia. We can’t just take what we want and give nothing back.”

“If we do give this to him, though.” Flynn restlessly pushes off the counter. “What does he do, huh? What does he do? Probably quits the Rittenhouse investigation on the spot and goes AWOL. He knows about the time travel now, knows that just killing Gilliam won’t solve the Jessica mystery. I don’t think he’ll stop there.”

“You’re not really one to talk about going AWOL,” Lucy points out. “Or quitting investigations to take up others.”

Flynn shrugs. “I’ve been going back and forth,” he says, after a long moment. “Whether we need Wyatt or not. But for now, unavoidably, we do. I can’t give him this information and tell him to sit peaceably and not do anything with it. It’s sure as hell not what I would do, and I’m not a hypocrite. I promised it, I intended to follow through. I still do. But if we give it to him now, and he runs off and fucks everything up, then – ”

“It’s his wife.” Lucy feels obligated to emphasize the fact that Wyatt wouldn’t exactly be ditching them to run off and hit the Strip in Vegas. “And he did hold up his end of the bargain. If he hadn’t – ”

“Rittenhouse might have scrubbed my records anyway,” Flynn counters. “It’s what they wanted, for me to stay here and in sight. So no matter what he did, they might not have come us for the sake of – ”

“We can’t do that.” Lucy puts her hands on the counter and turns to him. “We can’t play the what-if game. That’s exactly what they’re doing, that’s what is going to get us into trouble. I don’t care if things could have turned out differently or Wyatt could have done more or literally anything else. He did do that. We owe him what we promised.”

There’s a brief silence as they stare at each other. Then Flynn says, “Fine. You’re right. We should tell him. But not over the phone, and not for him to go off and do something stupid. I’ll drive over to his and Rufus’ apartment and tell him in person, try to get ahead of it as much as I can. I don’t think he knows the first damn thing about the details of the time travel part, but it won’t surprise me if that’s what he wants to try. He might also want to go to San Diego and interrogate Gilliam first. Could be I can work that angle for some kind of clue as to whether Gilliam himself is Rittenhouse, or just a useful fall guy.”

“So you’re only agreeing to tell Wyatt because you think you can mine the situation for intel?” Lucy isn’t sure she should be surprised. “Never just about altruism for you, is it? About doing the right thing?”

Flynn shrugs. “Altruism without pragmatism is always what gets the heroes fucked. I don’t care about playing by anyone’s milquetoast rules, especially right now. I’m going to tell him, but I need to keep an eye on him and see if I can work out why Rittenhouse gave us that name now. It had to have been them somehow, it’s not an accident. They’re pulling something with it, whether to separate Wyatt from the investigation or otherwise trip us up. Will you and Amy be all right for a few days?”

Lucy bites her lip. “I’m sure we can manage taking care of Lily, yes. But anything else. . .”

“Do you still have the gun I bought for you?”

Chest tight, she nods.

“Get it. Keep it somewhere you can access it easily, just in case. I don’t think Rittenhouse is coming after you here, not if they’re occupied with getting the time machine ready to hurt us more permanently, but I won’t take any chances. I’ll try to keep Wyatt from botching this too badly, but if he does – ”

“What?” Lucy raises both eyebrows. “Knock him over the head and stuff him into a broom cupboard?”

“Something like that.” Flynn is unfazed. “I feel like Rittenhouse is counting on him turning against us, or just dropping out of the hunt, but we’ll see. I also need to ask Rufus more about the technical capabilities of the machines. But when I get home, let’s go and get married, eh? Run down to the courthouse. Whatever else happens, I want you to be my wife. Rittenhouse may very well try, but I don’t think they can truly take that away from us.”

Lucy looks at him, as ever struck by how he can move from coldly talking tactics and strategy, the best way to work through what is undoubtedly a Rittenhouse manipulation of some sort, and with very little regard for Wyatt’s feelings on the matter, to telling her that she is the most important thing in the world to him, and literally all of time and space cannot take that away. She pauses, then steps forward, raises herself on her tiptoes, and kisses him. “I want to be your wife too,” she says, when she pulls away. “I love you, Garcia. So just – whatever you’re going to do, whatever you have in mind, whatever you think is necessary – remember that, all right? Remember that.”

He looks down at her with all the tenderness in the world, overflowing from his eyes and face and soul. “I love you too, Lucy,” he says. “And I believe that we can defeat Rittenhouse, we can save each other, and our daughter, and our family. Get the gun, eh? Get the gun. Then I’ll see you soon.”

Lucy doesn’t want to. As if she holds back on this one thing, she can stop the planet from turning, hold it in place with her bare hands, make time stand still, and nothing else would ever have to happen. The future would not rush at them like a freight train, the past would never seem so terribly unsteady, and the present would stay as it was, just this, just them. But she has to and she gets it, and Flynn kisses her one more time, ferociously. Then he picks up Lily and kisses her too, and closes his eyes as if to wish the tears out of existence, because his gaze is cool and focused when he opens them. And he says goodbye, and he goes.

It's mostly a quiet afternoon after that. Amy and Lucy sit on the couch watching more nineties movies again, Lily snoozing on Lucy’s chest (she seems to mostly be willing to go back to sleep once the immediate needs have been attended to, which is all you can really ask for in a baby). Her tiny hand is curled on Lucy’s shirt collar, her little body molded soft and boneless into Lucy’s as if she’s still part of it, and Lucy kisses her fuzzy dark head and strokes her back, joggling her absently. They finish up with Hook and to continue the Spielberg theme, are about to start E.T., when Lucy’s phone rings.

Startled, Lucy pushes herself upright with one hand and reaches for it. It’s Rufus, which surprises her for some reason. No reason it should, though. “Hello? Rufus?”

“Hey.” He sounds terse and abstracted. “Lucy, do you have a minute? I need – I need to tell you something.”

She frowns. “Is everything all right? Are you at work?”

“I – yeah, I’m at work, but…” Rufus hesitates, as if trying to gin himself up for something, and then it spills out in a rush. “Lucy, Connor made me spy on you for Rittenhouse. I didn’t want to do it, I’m not sure I even realized what it was for, but – I did. I did it. I’ve had a recorder in my pocket, it’s been picking up all our conversations through until the last time I was at your house. I had to turn it over to Connor last night, he said that if I didn’t, the consequences would be. . . it’s not an excuse, I did it anyway, but. . .”

“What?” Lucy’s chest clenches into a cold fist. “Rufus – what are you – what are you saying?”

“I spied on you,” Rufus repeats, agonized. “For Rittenhouse. Everything I was around for when we talked about it, they know it now. Lucy, I am so sorry. I can’t begin to make it right. You invited me into your hospital room, to your house, and I. . .”

Lucy can’t answer. Her throat has closed as well, and she can hear ringing in her ears, as she slides Lily off her chest and hands her to Amy, then gets up and walks into the kitchen hallway. “I trusted you,” she says, half wonderingly, half because nothing else seems to come to mind, nothing that she can get her tongue around. Extended Rufus access on Wyatt’s account, knows in the back of her head that he would not have had a choice, if Rittenhouse (whether via Connor Mason or otherwise) knew that these meetings were happening and needed to insert a mole on them. She half-wonders if Rufus is recording her right now, waiting for her to blurt out something he might not know – does he know about the Gilliam thing? That was after he left, and as far as she knows, she’s the only person Flynn told. And yet. Logical considerations, the rule and reason of her life, have flown directly out the window. In a croak, she repeats, “I trusted you.”

“I’m sorry.” Rufus sounds even more anguished. “I – I couldn’t live with not telling you, and I – Lucy, I needed to warn you. If Rittenhouse knows about what Flynn was – is – planning to do, then – ”

“I need to call him.” All at once, Lucy realizes sickeningly, if Rittenhouse already knew what Flynn was planning when they called to give him Wes Gilliam’s name last night, that could have been the final piece in their puzzle. However they were expecting him to react, whatever they wanted – she wants to shout at Rufus, even though she knows he’s much a victim here as the rest of them, but there is not time for that. “I’ll – talk to you in – later.”

With that, she hangs up and dials with shaking fingers, praying to every higher power she knows for Flynn to pick up. As she does, she unlocks the drawer and pulls out her gun, wondering if the time is about to come to use it in earnest. The phone’s still ringing, but he’s not answering, it’s like a nightmare where everything has stretched out and turned slow. She doesn’t even know if it’s only been a few rings, because every gap between her heartbeats is taking a thousand years. Jesus, Jesus –

And then, there’s a crash from the living room. Sounds like breaking glass from the patio door, as Lucy has to make a choice: gun or phone? Right now, with her sister and her daughter in danger while she can’t see them, and the knowledge that the trap is sprung, the culmination is complete, she doesn’t have time to think. Drops the phone, still spitting tinny echoes of its rings into the air, and runs back in, pointing the gun, as –

“Hello, princess.” Emma Whitmore looks almost amused to see her, standing in the rubble of the broken door. She’s holding Amy by the hair with one hand, as Amy is frantically clutching a screaming Lily, and twisting a heavy gun into her temple with the other. “Caught up with hubby dearest the other day, but I’ve been looking forward to seeing you. First, you’ll want to put that down, unless you want both of them to die. And then – well. We have a lot of unfinished business. I think it’s time to take a ride.”

[writinanon]

Honor the Dead

This is one of the first pieces I did and I’m thinking of overhauling it and retooling it a little bit. I like Witch Dep and have toyed with the idea of her having to fight against the Seeds and the Seeds being literal Demons and this being a method for them to gain more power (In modern context Demons are evil but in a lot of ancient texts they’re just powerful creatures that exist and some times they even aid Angels or God’s Chosen, not always willingly but sometimes they do I tend to view Demons in a mixed range).

The Rebels couldn’t believe it. Over the course of a year the Junior Deputy Rook had not only liberated the outposts that the Seeds took, but the homes, people, and life of Hope County. She stood strong in the face of impossible odd. She set aside her fervent belief that everyone could be saved, that all life was sacred, when given no other option. Her duty was to Hope County, to protect and serve it. She never drew out the fights or deaths, like others would have. Quick, clean, blood staining her hands redder and redder. More often than not Jerome Jefferies, the local catholic priest, found her in his now run-down church, washing her arms raw in the holy water left behind. In those times he would calm her, remind her that she hadn’t had a choice but to take life so that she might protect others. The Seeds sought to kill any and every one against them. The evidence of that rested in the scars that now littered her body, in the tattoo pressed into her chest. It didn’t make her feel better but made her feel calmer. She would never see killing as justified, even when it was.

When she arrived back in Fall’s End after a few days, almost a week, of being missing he is the only one not shocked by the new ink gracing her skin. She had been carrying Jacob’s rifle since she slayed him. Joseph’s rosary was wrapped around her left wrist. Now her right wrist had a flower chain and a lone Bliss stalk. The word WRATH had feathers surrounding it, and a small plane tucked away that one had to look carefully at.

“What the hell?” Nick muttered after she left the Spread Eagle, work was never finished for the Deputy and Sharky couldn’t light anything he wanted on fire anymore. “I mean seriously?!”

“Why would she want to honor them?” Mary May sneered. Jerome held his silence for a moment before looking at the Sheriff. Earl Whitehorse looked at Shiloh Rook like a daughter and was perhaps the only other person to actually know her mother, that Rook was raised by a Wiccan.

“In her beliefs death is not something to revel in. It must be accepted and happens but causing the death of something on purpose isn’t something to be proud of. The dead are to be honored regardless of what they did in life, without respect for the Dead the balance of Life is thrown off.” The Pastor informed them. That got them to be quiet on the matter. The Sheriff nodded to him before heading out after the Deputy. She was slowly healing, being the instrument of Death was not what Rook set out to be, she was a protector yes but her heart was kind.

Sharky and Hurk found the large weird book inside of Rook’s house, she’d asked them to feed her animals while she was away, Peaches and Cheeseburger refused to leave their new Lady.

“Maybe we should put it back Sharky.” Hurk muttered nervously, mind being dragged back to Kyrat. Magic was real and that small room had looked like a witch’s alter.

“No way man look, it’s talking about how to be able to summon fire!” Sharky grinned pointing at the passage. Hurk thought that it would be cool to do and pushed aside his reservations. “This would be so useful why didn’t Shorty use it to fight the Seeds?” The pair never heard the movement behind them, nor did they see the small group of Peggie stragglers coming. Rook sensed that something was wrong. She couldn’t put her finger on it but there was something unbalanced and it carried the scent of Death in the air. She headed in to work and frowned as she saw Sharky and Hurk nervously waiting outside her gate.

“Boys?” She asked, knowing they’d done something and they wanted her to wiggle them out of trouble. Hurk elbowed Sharky, who elbowed him back and they were about to brawl in her yard. “Gentlemen.” She snapped and they parted.

“We uh… We borrowed one of those fancy books of yours and uh some of those Peggies that haven’t been caught yet, they took it.” Sharky muttered rubbing the back of his neck. She took two strides forward and grabbed his sweatshirt and shook him slightly.

“What book?”

“Uh it was the uh…”

“Charlemagne what book?”

“The black leather one with the fire spells.” He managed and she stepped back. She took a breath before whistling. Her three Familiars were at her side in moments.

“Cheeseburger guard the house. Peaches go hunt for the Peggies. Boomer you’re coming with me.” She’d have to stop in and tell the Sheriff she needed to go hunting.

“We’re sorry?” Hurk asked and she pinned them both with a glare.

“You will be if they figure out how to actually use that Book.”

“We just wanted the cool fire powers.”

“Sometimes fun things are not good things and hurt people.” She sighed and rubbed her temples. “Just go home and don’t cause any trouble or I’ll send Hudson after you.” They jumped and barreled into their truck waving as they took off. They had no idea what those Peggies could unleash on the world. She climbed into her jeep and Boomer took his place in the passenger’s seat. She started the car and headed for the Station, the feeling of dread continued to sit like a weight in her stomach.

The Sheriff gave her a lecture.

“Next time have me or Hudson feed your pets!” He was afraid, because he knew what was in her mother’s books. Rook nodded and he gave her leave to go hunting.

She didn’t arrive until it was too late. The blood smears on the ground and the over turned candles and cooking pot said everything and nothing. The problem lay in that the book was nowhere to be seen. There were photocopies of it, she bristled at the carelessness at the complete disrespect for her mother’s work light was damaging to paper and ink. One had been resurrected. John Seed walked the Land again.

The Man knew nothing, nothing of who or what he was. Just that he needed to find a Woman, the image he currently held of her labeled her as Sinner. That sparked something in his chest but he didn’t know what. He also knew that he had siblings, siblings that he needed. The people, servants? Friends? Food. Groveled and had been working to summon his siblings.

The Beast didn’t stop killing until Kin called to him. He knew his little brothers. He looked at the trembling meat before him and smirked, showing off bloody fangs.

“Kin. We need them to bring back the others.” The Man murmured and the Beast huffed but accepted the clothing that was handed to him. He wanted to tear everything apart until he found his Family or Her. “When we have them we can look for Her together.”

The Sister ripped the thing leaning over her apart and took a much needed drink. She sat up and looked around. She was in a field of something. It smelled familiar but she couldn’t place it. Not too far away were her brothers. One was missing and so was She. She stood and walked towards her brothers.

“Where are they?”

“We have to wake the Father and then we can find Her.” The Man promised and offered her a dress. The Beast was eyeing those that had awakened her.

“Weaklings.” He hissed as they trembled away from them.

The Father opened his eyes and found himself looking at the night sky. His kin stood over him. The only thing missing was Her. He sat up and looked around them, they were outside of a church.

“Welcome.” They chorused and offered him the neck of one of the fleeting creatures, nervously gathered with them.

The Peggies had been trying to distract her were now openly seeking her protection from what they brought back. They had not completed the ritual. The dead could not stay in the land of the living without being bound to something. They bound them to their flesh. But the soul would corrupt, would twist into something that only craved more and more.

“What are you going to do?” Hudson asked as she explained what had happened.

“They will seek me out eventually. I am what killed them, I ruined their lives.” She could see them gearing up to try and protect her. “I will complete the ritual.” She scratched behind Boomer’s ears.

“What exactly would that entail?” The Sheriff asked warily.

“The less you know the safer you are.” She remarked and then stood up. She had work to do.

They arrived not long after darkness fell, drawn to her call. Peaches and Cheeseburger growled but did not move from their Lady’s sides. Boomer was safely locked inside, his devotion to his new Lady his desire to see those that would harm her dead was too deep for him to remain at her side. Rook appreciated it, was grateful that the first Familiar she took was so devoted so loving especially since she wasn’t his first Lady. The Seeds sat across him her, unable to cross the protective line. They weren’t really the Seeds, not anymore. She ached with it. She cut her palm and held her bloodied hand out to them. This would be the deciding factor.

Faith was the first to awaken, licking the taste of copper out of her mouth. She vaguely remembered the Deputy injecting her with a fatal dose of Bliss, it hadn’t hurt like she thought it would. Was she in Heaven now? She felt a sharp pain in her hand. She supposed not then. But she remembered dying. She looked over and found the Deputy sleeping peacefully against the Cougar she had freed in her Region. There were bandages around her palm, in the place that Faith hurt. She looked down at her hand and there was no wound. She looked over and found her brothers at her side. They were at a ranch that she’d never seen before. Jacob jolted awake next to her, looking ready to fight. His eyes narrowed when he saw the Deputy but he did nothing, checking over John and Joseph before checking her over as well.

“Are you hurt?”

“In my hand but there’s no wound.” She murmured and he frowned, looking at her right palm. “What do you remember?”

Jacob remembered first a sniper battle with the Deputy, tricking her into killing Eli Palmer, and then and then he remembered an arrow in the throat. She held him as he died and apologized. He then remembered waking up in a field naked and tearing through some of Joseph’s followers, several of them in fact. He only remembered stopping because John, not that he knew it was John, had called to him. Could they have really been resurrected?

“She’s a lucky shot.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it.” The Deputy said and both turned to look at her. Honey brown eyes were open and watching them.

“What has happened to us?” Faith asked, imagine of herself draining the blood of a Child swimming passed her mind’s eye.

“You should shower first. And wait for the other two to wake up.” She said and sat up, rousing the mountain cat she was sleeping on. Luminous eyes glew in the dark of predawn light. Jacob didn’t like that but couldn’t help but follow the unspoken command. He motioned to the house to Faith. He would wait for his brothers. She hesitated before kissing the crown of his head and heading into the house. “Treats are on the table.” The Deputy called after her. From within the house a dog barked.

Joseph opened his eyes feeling himself again. He remembered staring at the Deputy, his offer for them to walk away being rejected as she shook her head. Proclaiming herself a servant of the County and its People and that he was a threat to them. They fought. He was disappointed in her but more importantly he was disappointed that the Voice had been wrong about her. She would not join his family, she had destroyed his Family. When she shot him, he had known it was fatal. He had not expected her to rest him on her lap and pray with him. And now he was alive and whole and she was sitting across from him, Jacob next to him protectively though she had only a bowie knife, it was bloody and lay at her side untouched. As the sun began to shine he noticed that his rosary was wrapped tightly around her left wrist. Were he more cynical like his brother he would think that she kept trophies, indeed the thought almost took root until he saw the flower in stunning detail on her right arm. A ray of gold highlight her and around John’s revelation of her Sin was the gift of flight. The only thing missing was Jacob but in the light Joseph could see it was indeed his knife that lay beside her. He would have questioned her, questioned the bloody imagines that were flickering through his mind, but John chose that moment to wake up.

John felt the knife piercing his heart and then he felt warmth. He was in some sort of field. Jacob and Joseph with him. Faith was missing. Maybe she survived the Deputy. He tried to summon bitterness for her, anger at her, but all that came was the image of her crying and gently wiping the blood away from his chin as she sat with him in death. He shot up and looked around. There was the blasted bear and the cougar and between them sat the Deputy. She gave a small pleased smile.

“Well you’re not as far gone as everyone thought.” She mused before standing up and collecting the knife beside her. She pointed to the house. “Showers, food. Then we’ll talk.”

A Soul could be restored to life, even put back in its own body if one was quick enough. However, the price for that was you must Feed the Soul. You became the source of their Life for they were Dead. It was the origin of Succubae and Incubi. And that was what Rook now had. Three Incubi and one Succubus. 

[loki-hargreeves]

Loki, Illusions - Chapter 7

(chapter 6)

Your P.O.V.

All the Avengers were so close, all ready to attack Loki if needed. My heart was beating harder and it was obvious because the heart monitor was still attached to me. Everyone was quiet, the only sound being my heart. Thor was in front of them all and Loki was beside me, almost protectively.

''I'm not here to fight'' Loki groaned, obviously tired of people growing so tense around him. ''How can we trust you?'' Thor fought against his brother. ''You two! Stop!'' I yelled, honestly getting pissed off of this constant fighting. ''He's your brother, adopted or not you're family'' I reminded Thor seriously. I could relate to this situation.

The others changed looks silently as I stared at Thor. ''She's smart, you know'' Loki spoke up with amusement evident in his deep voice. Thor groaned and lowered his hammer, causing everyone else to relax a little bit. ''Fine'' He gave in which made me happy. ''Are you serious?'' Natasha seemed shocked and she walked up to Thor. Great.

''Yes, I am. We're going to get the tesseract and I'll take all of us back on Asgard'' Thor promised the woman who seemed like she wanted to fight Loki. That's when I looked beside me, facing the God of Mischief. He seemed a little relieved yet he was tense. ''It's okay'' I mouthed as I looked at him. As I slowly began to calm down, I began to focus on the pain once again. Luckily, it wasn't as intense as earlier. Loki's magic had done miracles on me.

''Do you remember what he did to Clint?'' Natasha asked Thor and they both looked at the man with arrows. ''Natasha, let it be. Yes, I remember it but-'' Thor attempted to speak but he was interrupted again. ''I thought we were a team'' Natasha chuckled sarcastically and walked towards me and Loki. ''You are a monster! I can't understand how you bleached a woman's mind to ever even consider to defend you!'' She let out a small outburst which wasn't the smartest thing to do.

Loki stood up and caused her to take a few steps back. Instead of getting angry, Loki smiled which was creepy for some. ''Back off, missy. Do not forget that what I've done to your precious friend, I can do to you'' He warned her with a mischievous hint in his voice. Natasha nearly gasped, which was a strange sight. Before the situation got heated, someone got in between. It was Clint. He just nodded and just like that, they walked off. The scientist guy left as well, leaving Iron Man and Thor here with me.

''Y/N, can we speak?'' Tony spoke up and his iron suit turned into a damn suitcase. He left it on the floor and walked further inside. Loki looked at Tony madly and stayed beside me which was alright. I simply nodded, not feeling too ecstatic about seeing Tony Stark. ''Look, I'm terribly sorry for what happened. It was never my intention'' He sighed and looked at his feet, crossing his fingers at the same time.

It pinched my soul as he apologized. Yes, it was an accident but he did try to hurt Loki. I had mixed feelings about this situation and it sucked. ''You better be sorry'' Loki hissed which surprised me. I never expected him to care about me personally. In the beginning, I was convinced he wanted to find me so he could use my powers later. Now it seemed like we were actually friends.

''I wish I would've hit you'' Tony fought with Loki. It all began again. ''Apology accepted, now shut up! I don't want to listen to you fighting!'' I groaned tiredly and rubbed my face with my hands. Everyone grew silent for some reason. As I looked around, I realized that they were all staring at me. It didn't take long to find out why.

My hands were glowing again and a slight purple colour lit up the room. I gasped in shock as I stared at my own hands. I couldn't control my powers at all. It's like the second I lost focus of myself, they tried to flow out of me. ''Calm down'' Thor attempted to help me. I looked at him wide-eyed and suddenly, I was afraid.

Ever since I first used my powers, they had wanted to be controlled. ''I d-don't know..how to stop this'' I admitted quietly, afraid as the light appeared around a few small objects in the room. Everyone stood up now, looking at me worriedly.  ''Loki, I think you should help her'' I heard Thor whispering.

The objects levitated in the room and I began trembling, hoping that they could just fall down. The light gathered around Thor's hammer and that's when my brain screamed at me to stop whatever I was doing. Thor's eyes widened and he probably thought I could lift it. Just in time, Loki got in front of me and he put his hands on mine, allowing his green powers to cover mine.

The objects fell down on the floor and I felt normal again. I closed my eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. ''That's it, just breathe'' Loki reminded me seriously, causing me to nod. ''That was intense'' Tony whispered from the door, probably surprised. ''We have to get back to Asgard as quickly as possible'' Thor realized and walked closer to us, allowing Tony to leave. This wasn't earth business anymore.

''She's unable to control her powers unless...We need a big space where I could teach her'' Loki told Thor. Seeing them speaking to each other was strange. They weren't even trying to attack each other yet the tension was obvious. Thor was mad at his brother and vice versa. ''Loki'' Thor said his name seriously. I listened to their conversation curiously and a little nervously.

''Do you think you're safe on Asgard?'' Thor raised his eyebrow. What did he mean? Loki smiled and huffed, almost offended by his questions. ''What do you mean?'' He then asked angrily. ''Our father is going to be mad at you'' Thor let him know. Here we go again...

I lied down on the bed and pulled the blanket above me, once again finding myself overwhelmed by my life. I had two Asgardian princes beside me, arguing. ''You don't know the truth!'' Loki defended his actions. Although I wanted to listen to them, I couldn't. All these drugs had taken their toll on me and I shut my eyes, falling into a deep sleep quickly.

***

The next morning was slightly better than I expected. I woke up alone and that's when Natasha decided to pop into my room with clothes and a towel. ''Good morning again. You're probably going to go through hell today so I suggest you take a shower'' She smiled rather kindly and put everything down on the nightstand. ''Thank you?'' I thanked her questionably. ''Thor told me about you. I guess you're not evil after all'' She then admitted and looked around.

So people thought I was evil? ''Steve has made breakfast. You can walk around after you're done'' She continued and turned around to leave but I stopped her. ''Who is Steve?'' I asked and attempted to stand up, wincing in pain as I moved but I could handle it. ''Cap'' She explained shortly and left. I assumed she talked about Captain America.

That morning I took a long, warm shower, feeling nice as I got clean. I put on the clothes Natasha gave me and I actually liked them. I got black leggings that didn't add pressure to my stomach and a grey hoodie that smelled like a man. The bathroom on this ship was simple yet it had make-up and hygiene stuff there. I did my morning routine without asking for permission to use these things.

After an hour, I walked out of the room I had been stuck in. The ship seemed super modern. Most things were grey, especially in the corridors. I followed the smell of pancakes until I found a door. It opened by itself after scanning my face and that's when I reached the kitchen. Everything looked normal, like a regular small kitchen. The Avengers were in normal clothes and they ate breakfast. Natasha, Clint, Tony, the scientist guy and Steve sat around a huge table. Suddenly, they all turned to look at me.

The doors opened again and I looked behind me, seeing both Loki and Thor walking in. ''Good morning'' Thor broke the awkward silence and walked to the kitchen island to get breakfast. I faced Loki and smiled slightly. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me but I could almost swear he checked me out. It caused my cheeks to warm up.

''Good morning Y/N. It's good to see you out of bed'' He admitted. As he moved, I heard the sound of chains. Immediately, I looked at his hands. He had the same handcuffs as I had had yesterday. They seemed Asgardian. It hurt to see them on him. Thor didn't trust Loki enough to let him be free.

As I looked at Loki's face, his happiness was gone. ''I'm sorry'' I sighed, feeling a little guilty. This mess was partly my fault. As I looked back at the others, they were sitting down and talking about everything and anything, completely ignoring the two of us. Naturally, I felt left out but I had gotten used to it before in my life.

''I'll help you with breakfast'' I offered Loki kindly and walked to the island, grabbing two plates and two cups. Loki followed me silently, but I could tell he appreciated my help. I put food on our plates and then I poured coffee to both of us. We sat down around the kitchen island because we felt like the rest of the people here didn't want us to join them.

''Did you sleep well?'' I asked Loki as I sipped my coffee. He shrugged and started to eat. ''Did you?'' He asked me after a while. Something about this moment made me fall quiet. I just stared at the handsome misunderstood man next to me. My heart swelled with pain as I thought of his situation. I just wanted to comfort him.

A confused smile appeared on his face. ''Hello?'' He spoke again, probably reading my mind. ''Yeah, I guess. I slept like a rock'' I answered and looked away from him. Realization hit me and I giggled, finding that moment odd. What the hell was wrong with me? He was my mentor for fuck's sake.

  Breakfast passed quickly. Loki and I ate in silence as we listened to the others speaking like old friends. Once we were done, I offered to load the dishwasher, partly because Loki struggled to do anything. No one even noticed when we walked away so we could discover what the ship had on it.

The corridors were long which was fine. It seemed like a huge place. Eventually, we found a room that resembled a small library. It had some chairs and four huge bookcases. Loki and I sat down and then I sighed, deciding I could finally ask him the question that had been running through my head for a while now.

''How are you?'' I asked him and looked him in the eyes. ''I'm quite good'' He answered and gazed around us. He was lying. ''No Loki, how are you for real?'' I made myself clearer. It took him by surprise. Loki looked at me with confusion evident on his pretty face before he looked at his hands. I could sense that he knew what I meant.

It hurt me that he didn't answer my question. I was afraid I would scare him off. It seemed like it was hard to win his trust. ''Loki, you can talk to me. I'm your friend, at least I hope so. Friends support each other and I can tell you're going through much'' I continued seriously and felt how adrenaline pumped through my body. I was really nervous but I brushed off my own foolish feelings.

''You don't want to listen to me rambling about my issues, Y/N'' Loki spoke darkly, only digging his hole deeper. He tried to push me away but I wasn't having any of it. ''I do'' I answered him seriously. He narrowed his pretty eyes and we were quiet for a while. Then he sighed and shut the door before sitting down once again. ''I see you're actually serious'' He spoke up and raised his eyebrows quickly.

''Why do you want to know?'' He asked me, still not telling me the truth. I noticed how my hands were trembling now. ''It seems like you're in a lot of pain'' I admitted as honestly as I could. I was afraid to look at him and I gulped and stared at my fingers. Nervously, I played with my nails and waited for him to speak.

''Did Thor say something to you to make you think like this?'' Loki asked me a little madly. That's when I forced myself to look at him. ''I wondered about your well being long before Thor mentioned it'' I told Loki. I could almost swear that my words surprised him. If I could remember right, his mother had been the only person for a while who understood him. I wanted to build our friendship so strong that he could speak to me too. Loki seemed like he needed a trustworthy person in his life.

''Why of course, he just wants you to believe I've gone mad so you'd be on his side'' He laughed and then bit his lips together. The way he was thinking was toxic. Before I could defend myself, the doors opened. I saw Thor who was holding a strange box with a blue cube inside of it. ''We need to go'' He informed us seriously. Loki and I changed looks full of confusion, partly forgetting our earlier conversation.

Suddenly the ship shook wildly, causing some books to fall down on the floor. I gasped and held onto the chair with my hands. A few seconds later a warning beep began to play through the speakers. 'Engine two has been targeted. We're under attack' a man's voice echoed everywhere. ''Let's go'' Thor spoke again, this time quite harshly. Loki stood up and helped me up as well, taking my wounds into consideration.

''What happened?'' I asked Thor as he led us back to the corridors. ''Eh, the Midgardians want the Tesseract and Loki so they're attacking us'' Thor explained quickly and he raised his hand, making his hammer fly to him. ''We're going home'' He added after walking a while. His words sent a cold shiver to run down my spine.

I thought we wouldn't leave so soon! In my mind, I had pictured myself saying goodbye to my family. I thought I had time to gather my belongings and tell people they wouldn't have to worry about me. My heart almost shattered in my chest and my stomach felt heavy. I froze, suddenly unable to follow them. Loki noticed that I stopped so he turned around.

''Y/N, are you coming?'' He asked me, making Thor stop as well. A lump appeared in my throat and it even hurt. Would I ever see my foster family again? The realization of leaving earth hit me and I wasn't ready at all. The two brothers exchanged worried looks. ''Y/N we need to move before they're going to destroy this ship'' Thor told me harshly. I blinked and then stared at him in shock.

This couldn't be real. No, I couldn't possibly go to another planet without saying goodbye! But according to Thor, they had a one-way ticket back until they could fix the Bifrost. It was the tesseract.

Loki cursed underneath his breath and then he walked over to me, awkwardly placing both his hands behind my back so he could make me move. I walked forward a little grudgingly but soon, I decided to move and bottle up my emotions. My reality silenced as I followed them somewhere. We reached a huge area that looked like an office. People were running around in panic and the Avengers were in their hero forms.

Everyone was yelling orders to one another. We took a big elevator up until we were on top of the ship. My breath hitched in my throat and I was scared. I saw the blue day sky and the clouds around us. Military planes were surrounding the ship and lights were targeting the three of us. ''We're going to leave!'' Thor yelled to the people in the planes. I pushed myself close to Loki to seek comfort. This was terrifying!

It's a miracle the ship somehow moved slowly, allowing us to actually stand outside without falling off. Some of the Avengers climbed up as well and looked at us worriedly. That's when Thor told us to hold the tesseract. Loki and I grabbed the loop on it and Thor grabbed the other end.

''Stop right away!'' Someone yelled through a speaker from the plane. We completely ignored that demand. I wasn't sure what the hell was going on and I was scared of what would follow. I looked at the Avengers who waved at us. The cold air hit my face and made my hair flow with it. Thor and Loki twisted the loops of it surely. Immediately, a bright blue light surrounded us and I felt weightless. I gasped as the world around us vanished and we were off to somewhere.

I didn't even get a chance to realize what the hell was happening until a new world appeared around us. The blue light faded and the first thing I noticed was a golden hall. My eyes widened once I saw how huge this place was and it was all golden! My eyes travelled up to where I saw a round painting with both Loki and Thor on it with a beautiful woman and a man with a long beard. Around it, I saw several other paintings.

''Home sweet home'' Thor broke the silence and pulled the Tesseract away from us. His words confirmed my thoughts. A few seconds ago we were on earth but now, we were on Asgard. My head felt heavy and I felt like panicking and crying- but I did nothing. I was as still as a stick. The sound of several footsteps made me flinch and I saw people in golden armours holding shield surrounding us.

''It's us, don't worry'' Thor told the people I assumed were guards. My heart was beating really fast and my gut felt bad. That's when I remembered another thing. My wounds. It wasn't my gut that felt so sick but it was a real, physical pain. It stung madly and my legs began to tremble. Suddenly, all my strength vanished and with the support of my shock, I fell to my knees. My arms clenched around my stomach and I whimpered in pain, unable to do anything else.

''Y/N'' Loki breathed out my name and hurried down to my side. He touched my jaw gently so he could face me. I was in so much pain that I squeezed my eyes shut and gritted my teeth. I was convinced that transporting from earth to here had done bad things to me. ''Brother, she really needs the healers'' Loki said and his words echoed in my head.

Something was truly off now...

(Chapter 8)

[alterlifes-a]

sacrificial lamb. this is still a huuuge WIP because this is still the first out of five kisses BUT here’s a preview of the first part ... TW FOR A BRIEF ALLUSION TO G.ORE. nothing descriptive, it’s just ... there. i also added a glossary-like thing at the end because i mention a lot of japanese terms. they’re at a shrine, so ... ye. lots of words that you either can’t really translate well, or words that would take 5 english words to describe ( and that adds up gradually ).

        ACT I, SCENE 1.  1863, isonokami-jingu ¹  /  the courtyard.  japan is entering an era of westernization — a concept which emperor komei vehemently fights against. 1854 : the island nation, borders forcibly ripped open by american commodores  /  the convention of kanagawa. march 11th, this year : an order to rid the country of impurities  ;  尊皇攘夷  (  revere the emperor, expel the barbarians  ).    perhaps it is a bout of comedic irony which makes you want to laugh  (  after all, it has been mere days since you, yourself, have decided to take up the role of dispelling your own demons — or rather, his  ).  nonetheless, this scene opens a little like this : shide ², folded crisply into a shirakawa ³, zig-zagged style, hang from a shimenawa ⁴ ; rice straw bounded against red pillars encasing a staircase which leads from the shrine's main hall into this open space. sugi ⁵ trees, a canopy of pinprick leaves shield any straggling visitors from the outside world's prying eyes. they emit a woody smell ; mutedly minty. the scent wafts through the air, and it smells vaguely like home  (  funny how you can note this ; home was never a notion you were all too familiar with   ). it is evident this place is pure. holy.  (  but perhaps these symbols mean naught ; perhaps they are placed so as to defend something defiled and destined for desecration  /  cremation   ). the shide flutter gently in the wind. faintly, from the distance, a chime.          enter one sakai korekiyo, revered miko ⁶ and martyr-to-be for his people. alongside him is ito hikaru, precocious prophet / puppet to the gods he serves.  (  but, ah … you should know by now that seeing things from a third-person perspective does nothing to ease you of the fact that you have been placed on a pedestal. you were born from a second-person perspective  /  and you shall die that way, too. let us try again, then ?  )

         you were born into this world as sakai sayano of the sakai clan — retainers to the tokugawa shogunate, and granted the ability to peer into the heavens by the stars. but you have never felt holy. instead, you find your place balancing precariously between this world and the world of yokai. you were not made for this role. you are still just a child, at 18 years of age. you want to find home.          your name is sakai korekiyo, and you want to find home. perhaps the closest synonym to the word walks alongside you.          today is special for a number of reasons : firstably, the fact that you are able to spend time with hikaru is in of itself a blessing. you can practically count on your fingers just how oft these instances come, what with how the gods love to monopolize his daily routine. perhaps you can empathize with that, too — separating "have to"s from "want"s. you both have known, from an age not made to handle such burdens, that you cannot want anything. you are not allowed to.  (  still, being able to have some alone time is nice ; you always eagerly await the next time you two can meet.  )  it is special for that reason, too, as secondly : today is the day you steel your resolve. henceforth, you two will have so much more time to talk. enjoy each other's company. live as humans and not as expectations.

         today is the first day you are going to slay a god.

         perhaps this is tied to your inherent nature as the supposed vanquisher of evil spirits, but you know this is a rational decision in an irrational situation ; you've ruminated over it many times, have thought up scenarios — chewed and swallowed the soft entrails of a guilt you've yet to even experience. in actuality, it is a simple, almost childish equation : they hurt him. so you will make them hurt, as well. though the details of it are much more gruesome than you would like to admit, you know that this is the only way you can build your own happiness from the ground up. it is why you find this proposed expulsion of barbarians so funny ; the emperor intends to rid this supposed ' plague ' of outsiders, but you know that the real disease festers within. it is found in empty gods with empty heads full of empty promises. it burrows its way like a worm into soil, wriggles deep within gold-stained flesh. but this blood is impure ; it is pyrite deception, destined for pyres built from arrowheads and expired " love ", gone black from mold. there is nothing more deplorable than a degenerate who thinks he can play the role of deity — who treats a child like a pawn simply because he is a soothsayer whose words can soothe and smooth over the suffering of sacrificed souls —- HE, like you, at the mild age of 18, when boys should be preoccupied with how to find love, instead forced to carry on his shoulders the weight of two worlds. HE, a gentle child, born with a heart that beats so muffled, now smeared against the walls of this damned and wretched place. HE, whose palpitations beat irregularly to the tune of a wrongly taught notion of love. HE, plucked from his garden at such a young age, barely a bud, and now stagnated from growth.  (  if they know nothing of mercy, then you sure as hell aren't going to give it to them. this world has no need of such unjust gods.  )          … HE, the one you love most.

         you know only two things : your name, and the fact that you love him.          your name is sakai korekiyo, and all you want to do in this messy life is find a person to call home. you think you've found him.          now you must fight for that happiness.

         dancing a duet with the air around you, a rustling noise takes centre stage as the sagi's sharp leaves rain down with each step you take. tap, tap, tap. sting, sting, sting. the waves of wind remind you of the ocean's shore — an even, lulling noise, just like that of a heartbeat. you bite your tongue a little, shove it against the inside of your cheek before you become a little cheeky and say something you ought not to  (  ' it's almost like we're taking a romantic walk, you and me '   ). instead, you lace your hands behind your back, turning around to open a conversation with a big grin on your face. truly, this is a genuine sort of gaiety ; one which you've only been able to grasp in temporary strands.          (  but perhaps, starting from here on out, that won't be the case anymore.  )          "  do you have plans tomorrow ?  "  your grin grows wider, eyes squinting slightly as your cheeks threaten to take up more space on your face.  "  i have a mission, but when i'm done, we must definitely spend more time together ! call it what you may — perhaps an intuition of my own, but ...  "  a hand moves over to your mouth now, fingers curled into a fist, with the thumb and index now covering the sly smile you've transitioned into.  "  … i think your schedule is going to be a little lighter from now on.  "  your features fall a little after such a pompous statement, arms coming to rest at your sides as you stop in your striding.  "  but … if you have the time,  "  a much more serene smile given, tone vulnerable, volume at barely a whisper,  "  we can spend the night together, too.  "          hikaru looks a little smug, and you're tempted to ball up the tabi socks on your feet and shove them into his mouth. you already know what he's going to say, so you brace for impact —- and yet never collide.          "  i'd love to.  "  it's almost as quiet as your own voice moments ago. you think perhaps he understands the brevity of your statement.  (  ah, but of course he has. he has known things about you before they even happened. it goes without saying that he knows of this, too.  )          for once in your life, you find yourself not fiddling with your hands. your arms, still bound to your sides, only move when hikaru outstretches his own. and when your fingers slide hesitantly over the palm of his hand  (  it's warm, like him  ), he pulls you in close. cups your face. dips you down — slightly so. and presses his lips against yours so kindly, you think perhaps he were pressing, with the same gentility, blooming forget-me-not between silk-screen scroll paper.

         it is the first time you have ever kissed someone.          it is the first time he has kissed someone of his own volition, as well.          you make a promise that night with hooked fingers to see each other the next day.

ACT I, SCENE 2.  1866. It rains gold today. The gods left on my doorstep that eve, 2 years ago, soft entrails — chewed and spit out. I've already forgotten ; was your love always stained with such dazzling lustre ? Was your love something more than just lust, or … ? What did your face look like ?          I keep searching for you  /  but I cannot find you.

NOTE.

isonokami-jingu — a shrine in nara, japan. it is known for housing the shichishitō ( translated to "seven-branched sword" ), which allegedly was given to the first emperor of japan during a time of need. the shrine serves futsu-no-mitama-no-ookami, a deification of the sword. shide — zig-zag shaped paper streamers hung near places that have been purified, particularly shinto shrines shirakawa — one of three styles that shide are folded into shimenawa — rice straw or hemp rope usually bounded onto torii ( gates ) or spiritual landmarks. the presence of one indicates that the area it is bound to is sacred or pure. sugi — japanese cedar miko — a shinto priestess

[nezzfiction]

ENMY Chapter 45 - Top of the Wanted List

Chapter Synopsis: After pissing off three of the four Kingdoms, Team ENMY is officially declared enemies of the state, and practically, the entire world. 

Team RWBY is disbanded, and Yang must find herself new allies. For her, that might very well be yesterday’s enemies. Joining up with the likes of Emerald, Mercury, and Neo, the four will comprise Team Enemy.

Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net

Or hit the jump below

Top of the Wanted List

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What is born between Hammer and Anvil.

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“You’re early,” said one of the weapon dealers.

“By the looks of it, I came right on time,” replied the buyer. “So how about we get down to business, shall we?”

In the back alley of one of Vale’s shadier neighborhoods, two groups of gangsters met for an arms deal. With the seller brought four of his affiliates, while the buyer brought one other. Each of dealers seemed especially paranoid and eager to finish the deal as quickly as possible.

“Money.”

On a large crate, the buyer set down a briefcase and showed it was full of lien. In response, the dealer checked it, flipped through the bills, and even took the time to smell it. When he was satisfied, the man presented a brown bag.

“A brown baggy? Really? I’m not buying drugs or some kid’s lunch, am I?”

“It’s less conspicuous!”

“It is?”

“I’m more surprised with you! Bringing a briefcase full of cash, to this part of town, with only one guy? If it wasn’t a two-bit thug that robbed you, I’m surprised they didn’t.”

“Who’s they?”

“You know who. Those wack jobs at Junior’s place.”

“Oh, Team ENMY or whatever. Uppity kids trying to make a name for themselves.”

“Yeah. Them.”

“Don’t tell me they’re the ones that got you all strung out.”

“Geez, you really are from out of town. Haven’t you heard? They’ve been smashing and grabbing every big weapon’s deal this side of Vale lately.”

“I dunno. From what I’ve heard, they don’t sound so tough. Bet me and my partner could take ‘em.”

“Whatever, pal. Enjoy your merchandise. Unlike you, I don’t plan on pressing my luck.”

“Wait a minute.”

“What? You want to put another order? Cause I ain’t got the stock no more. That was my last bit of serious hardware. Check again in a few months.”

“Sure, but not about that. Why’d you risk doing this in broad daylight?” the buyer glanced up, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Not afraid of the cops or some average schmo catchin’ the show?”

“No. Not compared them. They don’t work as much in the day, so the rumor goes.”

“Funny how a group of brats got you and half this city’s criminals spooked, ain’t it?”

“Naw, man,” the dealer answered, refusing to fall for the taunt. “It ain’t funny at all.”

He motioned to his crew. “Let’s move.”

The two groups went their separate ways, down their own respective alleys.

…

“Wha—?!”

The dealers paused as they came face to face with the exact same buyers as before.

“How the hell did you guys get over here?”

“What do you mean?” asked the buyer. “We’re right on time for our deal. You got the merchandise?”

“…….. Shit.”

The dealer opened the briefcase he had accepted earlier with a panic.

Only pieces of newspaper popped out, and was carried into the breeze.

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* * * * *

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Along the streets of Downtown Vale, Emerald made a quick purchase at a clothing store, and dropped the brown bag into a shopping bag.

“Now, that’s inconspicuous.”

Town is bled dry.

“I know, Neo. I caught what the guy said too. No weapons. Guess Vale’s armies emptied the black market too.” Emerald snatched two apples from a fruit cart they passed by. She bit into one, and tossed the other to Neo. “Not that it matters, since I doubt we’ll be able to crash any weapon deals after today.”

Too famous.

“Yeah. Even the dumbest thugs are getting wise to us. I mean, gun deals in the day? Some people have no consideration for timing.”

Neo nodded her head disapprovingly.

Right then, a slip of paper flew close by. Neo caught a glimpse, and swiftly used the point of her umbrella to pin it.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” Emerald muttered over the small girl’s shoulder.

“The outlaw in my blood is telling me it’s time to blow this stand.”

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* * * * *

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In the past few weeks, Junior’s club had gone through major renovations. Not only did they buy up and incorporate the buildings around them, security had also been significantly upgraded.

The place had more cameras, more guards. And those guards carried weapons of an impressive grade. Not to mention on the dancefloor, an actual Paladin mech was DJing the music.

It could be said the owner’s recent success was due to a certain number of individuals living above his club. Among them, a genius engineer by the name of,

“Masa,” Yang called.

The girl sat at a table with a soldering iron in her hand. She was in the middle of putting the last touches on the weapon in front of her. On another table, Masa and Mercury were doing the same.

“Yes, Miss Yang?” Masa replied, as she went over.

“I’m having some trouble finishing this up.”

“I do not understand. Recently, you no longer required my assistance for such easy work, this one evaluates, averse to the idea of having to hold your hand through upgrading measures again.”

“Hey! We are helping you, you know.”

“I am aware.”

“And you know why I’m having trouble.”

“Please state your problem in a concise manner.”

Yang went silent for a moment. A slight nervous twitch in her bottom lip. As if she were still contemplating to bringing the issue up.

“You knew my mom, the one who raised me when I was little. You knew Summer Rose… What was she like?”

…

…

“…………. Why would you ask such an uncomfortably heavy question of this one?”

*Sigh!*

“You know what? Forget it. This was stupid,” Yang breathed with frustration and turned back to the soldering iron.

…

Masa pulled up a chair to sit with her.

“You wish to hear about your mother?”

“Yeah…” Yang flashed an uneasy smile. “I don’t remember much from when I was young. And I didn’t understand a lot of things, because I wasn’t old enough.”

She paused, frowning at the weapon before her. The soldering iron placed to the side.

“I only remember the best things. I didn’t notice her flaws, what she was going through, the problems she had. She was just ‘super mom’ to me. Now, I know there was more to her. But after she disappeared, me and Ruby only grew up on the bits and pieces dad told us.”

“Hmmm… interesting, this one ponders. Raven has not spoken anything regarding Summer?”

“I tried asking once—like how they met— but all she said was they had the ‘worst meeting ever’, and didn’t want to talk after.”

“I see… Summer was indeed a truly exceptional individual. This one can understand the excruciating emptiness she could leave in any person’s heart.”

“Heh…yeah…”

Yang’s fingers traced the blade on the desk till they almost cut. It was a familiar-looking red scythe that was near its completion. The only thing left, was to take a few choice parts of an older weapon, and incorporate it.

The older weapon that sat nearby was a silver chakram. Its hoop was the diameter length of a person’s leg, giving it an unwieldy impression. Its circular blade was forged with elegantly curved edges that mimicked thorns and vines. Among the countless weapons Yang had ever seen, this one was the most beautiful—which made it all the stranger knowing who its previous owner was.

One chakram of a pair, which the Huntress Summer Rose once wielded.

Eclipsing Rose.

…

Masa held Yang’s hand without a word, and guided it along the weapon’s surface.

She could only guess how her mother used to fight with something like this. The scars and mended portions gave voice to hard fought battles. Moments weighed between life and death, defeat and the willingness to refuse surrender. A deep impression in the grip screamed volumes of a warrior’s repeated effort to steel her resolve in the face of overwhelming adversity.

Masa once said she could learn more about a person through their weapon, than talking to them. Yang was beginning to understand that.

As she held her mother’s weapon, she wondered what the Huntress had gone through to leave such impressions. How much she did not know about the woman who fought the darkness more valiantly than any who came before her. Yang could sense it in its ringed steel.

A white cloaked figure that stood tall against the evil that threatened to consume everything. Unwavering, uncompromising, defiant—a flicker of shimmering light in the world’s darkest hour. There was no trace of fear in the end. A gentleness that was ever-present. A kindness. An honesty. A guardian.

Yang set Eclipsing Rose down with a forlorn smile.

She could not be any more different from Summer. She had compromised. She knew there were shades of dark to her soul she never hesitated to admit. It was a stinging contrast, but this too, Yang accepted in its whole.

Masa stepped away from the table with a knowing look, and Yang went to refitting the blades of Eclipsing Rose to Crescent Rose.

…

…

…

After a few hours passed.

“Okay, Penny. Run diagnostics.”

[Running….]

The laptop next to Yang, booted up a few graphs and values. At the same time, the crimson weapon surged with a glow. Right before it cut through the table and part of the floor. A few rose petals left in its wake.

“Whoops.”

[Diagnostics complete. Weapon: Functional.]

“Thanks, Penny.”

[…]

“…Penny?”

[Friendly Subject Identified: Yang Xiao Long. Match for Ally Database.]

Yang hung her head low. Her hand, smoothing the edges of the computer screen.

“Still trying to pull off the ‘she’s a real girl!’ routine?” Emerald suddenly came in, and spoke over her shoulder. Neo following from behind.

“She’s in there. I swear, she’s in there.”

“Face it, kid. She’s a computer. All zeroes and ones.”

“She could generate an Aura, Em. That has to count for something.”

“A phenomena this one has yet to decipher,” Masa joined from across the room. “It is said the manifestation of Aura is evidence of a soul. But then, one must ask what is a soul, and if it alone constitutes a living—"

“Hey, Maz. I got you the thing you wanted,” Emerald interrupted, while tossing the brown bag at her.

“Satisfactory.”

The weapon tech took out the handgun inside, and swiftly smashed it to pieces with a hammer. From the wreckage, she used tweezers to salvage a tiny microchip, before sweeping everything else into the trash.

“…….What, this one asks, curious of all the faces you are making.”

“I did all that, so you could smash a gun, for a tiny little microchip inside?”

“It is the only important component.”

“Of course, it is.”

“You will be compensated, as per usual agreement.”

“Guess, I can’t argue with that.”

Following the events of Masa’s rescue, Team ENMY had been helping the weapon engineer complete a long queue of job contracts that had built since going into hiding. The reason being, the weapons tech refused to do much else until prior obligations had been seen to. Her reason citing she had a reputation to uphold.

As such, to help meet the number of work orders, Team ENMY was frequently hired to acquire rare weapon components. Their methods usually took the form of crashing an arms deal, and stealing the merchandise. But as evidence of the afternoon’s incident proved, their enterprise was least likely to continue.

“Hope that was the last extra, special, tiny part you needed, cause there won’t be anymore,” Emerald told Masa.

“Something happen without us?” Mercury questioned.

“No. The grift went off without a hitch. To be honest, I’m gonna miss the fun of just stealing. You know, without all the muscle, and explosions, and the testosterone you and Yang always bring to the table.”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself while Yang and me are being enslaved by Maz.”

“Yeah, it’s the best. Conning people is the best. Just makes me feel so alive.”

“Clepto,” Yang snickered from the side.

“Hey, everybody’s born with some sort of gimmick. If there’s a patron star for thieves, I was definitely born under it. Too bad the streets are dry now.” Her mischievous smile faded into a more serious expression. “BUT more importantly,” she pulled out the paper they picked up a while ago, along with some others she found. “Looks like everyone finally settled on a bounty for us…”

Multiple chairs screeched across the floor as the rest came for a look.

There, they saw photos of all of them. Separate wanted posters issued by each different Kingdom: Vale, Atlas, and Mistral. A monetary sum of lien printed at the bottom of each of their pictures, captured dead or alive. A list of crimes held accounted for. And a small description included a few of their skills and traits.

“That’s… retiring money—for any one of us,” Yang awed. “Are bounties even allowed to be set that high?”

“I thought it would’ve been lower, but they must’ve upped it after we took Masa. Apparently, our engineer is treated the same as a national asset,” Emerald suggested.

“Hmph, ‘Considered among the top enemies of the state,’” Mercury read and chuckled. “Is it bad to say I’m proud of us? Cause I am. Top of the Wanted List has a nice ring to it. Buuuut I don’t know about Yang’s bounty being the highest. Is that cause she’s our leader on paper?”

“That’s why I put her there. The less bullets meant for me and meant for her, the better.”

“Hey!” Yang complained.

“Anywho, fellow enemies of the state. It’s time we made ourselves scarce, real soon. All our go-bags were restocked recently, right?”

Neo nodded.

“So, we’re good to go on the dime.”

They smelled something burn behind them, and turned. Masa installed the microchip into a weapon she was working on, and breathed a satisfied sigh.

“This weapon completes the last of my commissions. As promised, this one will begin dealings with your group, this one announces with fatigued motivation.”

“Finally!” Emerald groaned.

“What work does your group wish to commission?”

“Yang needs a new arm and I need to upgrade my Semblance.”

“Ah, yes. The foolish one’s arm. An adequate replacement will be constructed until a true weapon can be forged. As for your unorthodox request, improving your Semblance may prove impossible with my skillset, this one points out the obvious flaw of asking a weapons technician for advice, normally sourced to a Huntress or Professor.”

“So you might not be able to help,” Emerald turned and glared at her teammates. “Well, that was my main reason for saving your butt…”

“Nonetheless, your requests have been accepted. A bill will be sent as soon as this one calculates proper compensation.”

“Why do I feel like this is gonna cost us?”

“Because it will, this one confirms your suspicions.”

“”We helped you complete your work orders!”” Yang and Mercury shouted.

“…… A small discount shall be subtracted.”

Team ENMY only continued to stare.

“…… Very well. The fee will be waived.”

They breathed a collective sigh.

As Masa watched them, only one thing crossed her mind,

Not to mention it stands in this one’s best interests to stay on your little group’s favorable side.

A price is always collected in due time.

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* * * * *

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Perched on the rooftop of a building six blocks away from Junior’s Club—and outside of the gang’s territory—a large man spoke into his scroll.

The one in question was adorn with a set of heavily mechanized leg armor. In contrast, the top half of his body was “bare”, save for the thin plates of metal embedded into his very flesh. His muscles bulged with years upon years of training, which led him to be able to move with all his augmentations. His arms were stained with burn scars. His face was ugly and distorted, which he usually hid behind the iron mask of a bearded man.

“Yes, yes, I understand,” he moaned into the scroll. “I know not to underestimate them. I read the report. Have I ever failed you before, brother? Have I? Hm?”

…

“Yes, I’ll send you a selfie with the corpses once I’m done—if they’re still recognizable, that is. Vulcan, out!”

The man ended his call and turned to the small army of gangsters and mercenaries behind him.

“Sorry ‘bout that, boys. Where were we?”

One of the mobsters with sunglasses stepped forward.

“You were about to go over the plan.”

“Right! The plan. Real fuckin’ simple, this one. I go, then you go. Eh? S’good, right?”

“…That it?”

“That’s it. I go after the team. You fodder, keep the other fodder busy downstairs. Won’t be hard. The second you start movin’ past this block, the whole gang’s gonna be on you.”

“We aren’t fighting the team? You said we’d get a share of the bounty.”

“Right. Look, you lot got your asses handed to you just weeks ago! Has anything changed since then? Anything? Don’t be shy! Raise your hand if ya got somethin’ to say. No? Right. So I’m thinkin’, if ya fight them again, you’re all just gonna lose again. Am I wrong, or am I wrong?”

No one responded.

“No? I got it right? Sure? I kinda just shat on all you, but okay. Moving on, I fight them alone. Don’t worry about me, I’m a pro. Real true and blood assassin, I am.”

The gangsters looked him up and down, mainly at his giant figure and rippling muscle fiber.

“You… don’t look like an assassin.”

“Ey! I kill, who I need to kill. Bein’ all sneaky is just a misconception of me profession. Anyway! You lot, will still get your share of the reward. Truthfully speakin’, I’m not in it for the green. It’s a family thing, don’t ask. So! All’s you are getting paid just to scrap it with Junior’s thugs. Easy ‘nuff, aye? The team, you leave, with me. Synch?”

“Uh… what?”

“Oh, for the luv a—When I say synch, you say synch. You see this? I’m tryin’ a learn you some bit a’ professionalism, you read me?”

“Yes?”

“Synch?”

“Synch.”

“And the rest of you lot?”

“”Synch””

“Alrigh’, then.” Vulcan turned, hoisted three packs over his shoulders and a larger than life hammer. “Bloody, fuckin’ amateurs…” he whispered low.

“WAIT!” the same gangster shouted.

“What, now? Can’t you see I’m tryin’ to get into me zone?”

“What’s the signal?”

“The what now?”

“The signal—to attack.”

“…… Have you lot not been payin’ attention. I said, synch. You said, synch. That’s the fuckin’ signal. It’s go time, chum. This was simple, and now you’re goin’ ahead, muckin’ it up. I’m fallin’ off me rhythm. I mean, hey. Okay, is my fault, ya? Shouldn’t’ve expected so much. You want a signal? I’ll go ahead and give you one.” Vulcan pulled the man to the ledge. “See, right there?”

He pointed at Junior’s club.

“As soon as I get over there, you lot, fuckin’ get over there. Got it?”

“Yeah,” the nervous gangster nodded. “I mean, synch.”

“No, that’s not—! Urrgh! You lot are drivin’ me mad as bat shit. Here we go,” Vulcan backed up.

“Wait, how are you getting over there?”

Not listening anymore, the gigantic assassin walked to the other end of the roof. Once there, he turned, and started an all-out blitz to the other side. Running past the confused gangster, the heavy-set man leapt off the building.

The rest of them could only stare blankly.

.

* * * * *

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[Enemy Detected. Approaching immediate vicinity.]

“Penny, report enemy location,” Masa replied.

[Incoming in 5… 4…]

“Maz?” Yang asked.

“A problem with the code? None of the other security measures have been triggered, this one—”

At that moment, the whole loft was knocked sideways from the impact. The ceiling collapsed, the east wall was decimated. And from a burning hammer; lava, fire, and explosives seared the bodies of Team ENMY and Masa.

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NOTE

Double-chapter release.