#flipping between hunt and Fiasco

[swiftsaltsweet]

Me: I'm not gonna post any new fics right now. Only updating what I currently have out!

Brain: Ok but like.....you had this fic you really wanted to do before you decided that (or even started writing Two Knives), and you have the first chapter done and it's like.....episodic with short chapters....I think you're safe to post that....

Me: I am once again a filthy fucking liar.

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday & Understand My Family in 5 Minutes Template

Tagged (ages ago, according to my drafts) by @imogenkol for the Understand My Family in 5 minutes Template.

Tagging @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @cloudofbutterflies92 @josephseedismyfather @direwombat @noodlecupcakes @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @raresvtm @derelictheretic @cassietrn @aceghosts @davrinsgriffons @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @softtidesworld @yokobai and @seedsplease + anyone else who want to join.

Music Monday for The UnTitledverse and Life, Despair & Monsters series and a Understand My Family in 5 Minutes Template for The Silver Chronicles. You can listen, read and find the blank template below the cut:

In my More Than Bargained For? WIP, the main premise isn't just about freeing the souls of the dead children with their happiest day, nor is it just about the reunion between Mario and Charlie, and neither is it just about Lena having fun with her animatronic buddies. Ultimately the main premise surrounds itself around bringing down Fazbear Entertainment, and ending the tragic madness of both William Afton and Henry Emily's feud and legacies. Like there's two-and-three-quarters of arcs to this WIP; first arc is gathering all the animatronics together in one place which, unbeknownst to Lena and her mentor Mike, is under Paragraph 4, though Lena's friendship with the children gives some of them the peace to move on from their animatronic pals. Fair warning, there's also parts in-between some chapters of this arc where she has really weird dreams. The mini arcs come during a timeskip after Lena's fired from Fazbear Entertainment after the fiasco that is being framed by Ennard for the murders of the technicians (Mike's unfortunately been scooped by Ennard); she comes to help Mike put to rest the remaining dangerous animatronics, although is there to save a few that she doesn't believe deserve to be destroyed or were mistakenly caught because they seem to fit the qualities of Paragraph 4 but truly don't. These mini arcs also involve going on a rescue mission down in Hell too (but there ain't enough time to unpack that right now). After those we get to the "Bringing down Fazbear Entertainment permanently" and "more efficient damage control over the remaining legacies of both Afton and Emily". This leads her to espionage the VR games, the Special delivery services, and lastly the Megaplex. In this particular arc, she... discovers familiar faces and remnants of old friends...

"Well, hello again! Here we go again! Start the show again! You thought it was over, but you know that it will never end It's awful lonely in the code that we've been living in But now you're home, we want to hold you 'til the bitter end So, we got a few bugs, we got a few glitches You know the best hugs always leave a few stitches Pull a few plugs, gotta flip a few switches Built to give love, we just need a few fixes Our arms are open nice and wide, why don't you try us on for size? We'd hate to spoil the surprise Go check the corner for your prize Our favorite game that we've devised is hunt you down each time you hide And now we're right before your eyes We promise not to crawl inside ("We promise not to crawl inside")

You've been away for, oh-so long No games to play when you were gone But now you're here where you belong And we are back together We're going right back to the start When you left, it broke our hearts But if it's you who's torn apart We'll put you back together We'll put you back together."

"Grave is melting away to entropy Beta Tester, please save the rest of me Tapes sequested away are meant to be played Or else they enslave what's left of me In the lines of the binary Recombined as my lifeline's syphoning From the mind I am mining for hiding in Don't be frightened, comply and invite me in."

"Uh, hello, hello? Now you've gotta fix the vents below Simulations are safe, y'know Although, maybe don't trust a telephone."

"Oh, my! What a muddle! It only was a cuddle Now you're long gone, crushed into a puddle Hey, Bon-Bon! Better get a shovel! Really want some love, but I'd snuff you with a snuggle."

"Yar-har-har! We're in VR! You can try to run, but you won't get far You'll begin to wonder why you ever pressed "Start" What you get for plundering a bunch of dead parts, he-he!"

"You may wonder how we stand this hell But I promise you'll adjust to the acrid smell Beta Tester? Or plate of tasters? An attack should include a few snacks as well, ha!"

"Mind if I hop on for a solo Don't you worry, I'm not coming for you during a show tune! Hurry up, you've got a party to go to! You know you're gonna be the star of the show soon!" ("You're gonna be the star of the show soon. Yeah!")

"So long you have been away Oh, won't you promise to stay? Make it our happiest day Now we are back together We're going right back to the start When you left, it broke our hearts But if it's you who's torn apart We'll put you back together We'll put you back together!"

"...My first appearance in Pizzeria Simulator and then again in Ultimate Custom Night And I was hoping for some sort of token appearance in the VR title Now, that didn't happen, sadly And I remember saying to my good friend Orville I said, 'Orville, this is going to be an issue if I want a continued presence within the franchise'. So we went out to get some..."

"Come on, kids! Don't be scared of me! Just a funny bunny! Remember Jeremy? Did you think I wouldn't leave a legacy? Take death? Escape my destiny? Corroding the code of your own autonomy Laugh at the traps you've employed to conquer me Nice headset you've spoiled to come for me All that blood might void the warranty!"

"Another long night And another hall roamed Another song chimes Sends another one home You know it's all lies It's a wonderful show There's nothing inside We're just lovable drones."

"Quite a chain of events you're tangled in In the vents, don't let the Mangle in Back in action, have you been practicing? Just one more toy you've trapped us in."

"So tired, we just wanna sleep But you're determined to keep Finding ways to bring us back from the grave We've been burned, we've been beaten Torn apart, we've been eaten In a loop, here's the scoop You won't ever be saved ("No, you won't ever be saved.")

"We lost our lives to an arcade But now it's us who's being played So step inside, don't be afraid And put us back together We're going right back to the start When you left, it broke our hearts But if it's you who's torn apart We'll put you back together!"

"We'll put you back together!" "We'll put you back together!" "We'll put you back together!" "We'll put you back together!"

More on More Than Bargained For?, Lena's vendetta against Fazbear Entertainment stems from their inherent inability to take responsibility for the disappearances (and deaths) of the missing children (and doing the bare minimum to stop it again), plus their own corruption and greed in covering up their own hand in the tragedies for the sake of milking their brand dry, and their lack of punishment for the injustices for the many employees who died under their watch. Fazbear Entertainment is the greater-scope antagonist of this WIP, with William Afton & the Mimic being the main threats towards Lena and her friends. Lena, after surviving many death traps and being framed for two co-workers' murders and having to say goodbye to her ghostly pals (either voluntarily or involuntarily), has had it with Fazbear Entertainment's ability to weasel back to life time and time again just to repeat the same mistakes and choices of cutting corners and being shit employers. In this arc, Lena goes into espionage with some help to take down the company from the inside-out. However, her troubles come when Glitchtrap catches wind of this, and once being aware that Lena wants to take down his only source of flesh puppets, he decides to take action by taking advantage of Fazbear Entertainment's new "Special Delivery Service" to send Lena (and her girlfriend Cassandra) a very lovely animatronic home invasion.

"There was a place many years ago Where the children would come for a meal and a show Oh, the horror, in the corner The quartet of terror returns

There's Freddy, and Foxy, and Bonnie, and Chica The band's back together and playing the deep cuts And when the curtain comes to close They'll find you

There is a bear who bears no introduction And a chick who's thick from reconstruction There is a bun who's gunning for the air shaft And a fox who gawks behind an eye-patch

Unserviced servo turning Refurbished fur perturbing It doesn't matter where you go They'll find you

Find the mascots Check your blind spots Put the mask on Turn the lights off

Wind the toy box Check the game clock Shun the dark thoughts It's a long shot

They'll find you They'll find you We will find you Terrorize you And ensnare you In a bear suit."

In Life, Despair & Monsters, there is an Unnamed Poppy Playtime WIP, where there is Playtime Co.'s warehouse from the game, but also an abandoned sister location known as "Rosemary's Trinkets & Collectibles" that was shut down years prior before Playtime Co.'s own closure. In this WIP, the protagonists find that both locations are connected to each other, and find the co-founder of this location and the founder of the sister location, Frederick Rosemary, may not be as dead as originally thought, and has been trying to bust into Playtime Co.'s warehouse to get himself their unique toys for his sick pleasures and devices. Plus to help out his good friend Sir Enigma Malvolio too, doing the dirty work of experiments that Malvolio himself can't be inclined to do himself.

"We are machine, but in-between We are conscious, full of life Don't think twice, we play it right Built for laughs and grins The show takes its toll on our soul Itching for some way to free Every plea, the lights flee All together, we're complete

Come together now We've got the night all to ourselves Let's show them what we allow Unified, we arrive We know just what to do To prove to them that we're alive

Hide from us, you can't trust The noises coming from the halls You peer in, we break in We can't say if you'll live or die Just come out, leave all doubt For we are real and awake End daytime, it's playtime We are the ultimate fright

We are the ultimate fright

Left underground, quiet sound Heard from every corner We seem to be nice, but she Draws the dark to cave in With her grin, watch her spin Every second counts, for we More than three, always see Altogether we're complete

Come together now We've got the night all to ourselves Let's show them what we allow Unified, we arrive We know just what to do To prove to them that we're alive

Hide from us, you can't trust The noises coming from the halls You peer in, we break in We can't say if you'll live or die Just come out, leave all doubt For we are real and awake End daytime, it's playtime We are the ultimate fright

We are the ultimate fright!"

And lastly here's my "Understand My Family in 5 Minutes" for Silva and Faith, plus Azriel and Mercy, during Old Dusk (New Dawn arc):

And here's a blank template (with links) to both read above and use below:

Template by @/marissources (ImageFlip made their credits a bit too small).

Here's the download link to download it if you can do what I clearly can't.

[superluigiglitchy]

Just finished rewatching SMG4 What-if? and now im having feelings

aka Fuzzy Meggy au based on that fucked up Fuzzy Desti au @duckapus made where Mr. Grizz found Desti's body in the ocean and decided to do the trial runs for the fuzzy ooze which brought her back to life but fucked her up BIG TIME but like its Meggy instead (here)

(Long post ahead)

a few things before I start explaining away

Since Meggy's death each member of the gang have started wearing an article of orange in they're usually outfits (Saiko's twin tail ribbons are orange, Tari has an orange arm band on her hoodie, Mario has an orange Inkling patch stitched onto his overalls etc.) as a way to commemorate her

The three pieces of Meggy's head gear went to Luigi (beanie), Mario (headphones) and Tari (goggles) all three of them guard these pieces with they're lives

So many people blame themselves for Meggy's death that it can give someone chronic depression (read: me) but here's a few people of note

Axol: Despite the reassurances of the gang (including that of Desti's) Axol deeply blames himself for not knowing that Francis had made another Sephiroth and being able to erase it before it went and killed someone

Paige: Since their older sisters death they have double down on being the NSS's Captain and have worked harder than ever before much to the other agent's worry and concern, they have sever survivor's guilt an a guilt complex and as much as the other agents and cuttle fish try to help they either outright refuse or avoid them however that may change soon during the NSS's exploration of the ancient human settlement known as Altera

Tari: having lost her best friend and in the throws of grief she decided to learn to be stronger earlier than in canon with the help of Saiko surprisingly out of everyone she seems to have gotten a control over her grief, she still deeply wishes Meggy were still here with them but she knows that's not possible however she's been having strange dreams lately of her late friend but surely those are just that, dreams... Or are they?

Luigi: Since Meggy's death he has learned to not be as much of a scaredy cat and to pull his weight around in the team he still deeply misses her but he also acts as a rock for whenever the grief of the others gets too much for them, Especially for Mario however he like the others misses her greatly and often tries to 'think like Meggy' as he puts it when stuck in a pickle

Mario: Out of everyone he has the most grief over the lost of his best friend and sister, because of this it was like a switch was flipped and now he acts more subdued and not as chaotic (think of him as a mix between his memey self and pre-smg4 self) (which deeply disturbs everyone, even Peach surprisingly enough) however he is still the Avatar of the universe so he still gets dragged into insane adventures because of it only with a more subdued attitude and more responsible and smart (again deeply disturbs everyone) he often wonders that if he didn't instigate the anime challenge would none of this have happened? Luigi tries to assist him in processing the grief and guilt and help with his depression but it doesn't seem to be quite working

Desti: she is currently on the hunt for Sephiroths head and to get revenge so she has too much anger right now to process her guilt and grief which can rival even Mario's if not surpass it

Peach: since the fiasco of the anime arc Peach has become more thoughtful to others and careful in her decisions regarding Mario's antics and feels responsible for this mess having happened (she WAS the one responsible placing the ban in the first place) she acts much like her canon self here, everyone has mixed feelings over her however, Saiko especially who personally blames Peach for what she sees as causing the death of her friend Saiko hasn't really expressed this as not to aggravate the others but Peach sorta knows with how often Saiko shoots the Stink Eye at her

And that's about it now onto the au itself

During Splatoon 3's story mode (or at least this universe's version of it) the NSS find themselves stalked by a cat-like creature covered in scars and brown fur

(honestly they wouldn't really have noticed if not for Captain 3 halting everyone from moving pointing out that they were being watched by something and ironically enough the thing showed itself) shockingly though it began to smother Captain 3 with affection and purring like crazy much to Paige's annoyance and confusion and Callie and Marie's amusement

Callie: hehehe, it looks like it likes you captain

Paige being smothered with affection furiously by a purring cat creature: I am aware of that agent 1- HEY NO LICKING!!

Anyways now the NSS has this weird ass cat thing that's very clingy to their captain (the amount of black mail Andi has now is insane) and seems to have grown a liking to Andi as well ironically enough and ends up helping in the space battle quite a lot

Meanwhile as this is happening harbor and 8 end up helping Desti who was on the back ropes to defeat Sephiroth (much to her reluctance and stubbornness) and ends up taking her back to homebase cause 1. Cuttlefish were worried sick about her and 2. They ain't letting her disappear for several months again and it's here where they find out about the giant cat monster thing that the NSS have came to call Fuzzball instead of Subject 001 (which was the codename Mr. Grizz gave her) who takes an extreme liking to Desti MUCH to her confusion

Desti being cuddled to death by Fuzzball: what the fu-

Paige covered in orangey brown fur: you get used to it

Anyways something something the NSS and the smg4 crew have they're monthly meet up with a giant fuzzy cat thing in tow and because of E. Gadd shenanigans they find out that Fuzzball is actually Meggy *insert moment of disbelief and tear it filled moment here along with a bunch of reactions*

So anyways thanks to a combination of E. Gadd, the NSS, some help from Marina's memeverse and memery fuckery cause why tf not, they are able to find a cure for fuzzification for both the affected octarians and Meggy

But because of how long she's been trapped in Grizzco. and how long she's been experimented they weren't able to cure her all the way so now she's a cat bear squid human thing but that's just fine by the gang because they'll always love Meggy no matter what and BOY did they miss her

Bonus Megdesti:

[icantthinkofanythingcool3]

traitor (pt 4) (final part)

The next day I kept my word and went back to school. I saw Stiles and Lydia waiting impatiently at my locker.

“Hey guys!” I said sneaking up on them.

“Oh god, I’m so glad you’re back. I missed you.” Lyds said, hugging me.

“I missed you too! Thank you guys for caring so much. It means a lot to me.” I said, nudging Stiles with my elbow and opening my locker. He smiled at me as I got my stuff out. The bell rang for first period and Lydia waved goodbye and Stiles and I went to English.

“I’m glad you came back today.” Stiles said to me.

“Me too, now can you fill me in on what’s happening?”

As we sat down, Scott and Stiles started telling me how Danny had been poisoned by mistletoe and how the sacrifices had moved on to healers. They said that Isaac and Boys had gone to Derek’s loft to try to fight against the Alpha Pack. At least I wouldn’t have to see him next period. Algebra was fantastic without Isaac. I can’t remember the last time I had been so excited about math. I made my way into Chemistry and sat in front of Stiles and Scott. After Ms. Blake told us she was filling in for the missing/sick Mr. Harris, Stiles started.

“Hey, my dad said that the ER attendant wasn’t strangled, but did die from asphyxiation. They just don’t know how.” Stiles said to us.

“Do you think the on-call doctor could still be alive?” Scott asked him.

“I don’t know, but Scott, there’s gotta be at least 20 other doctors in that hospital. At least! Any one of them could be next.”

“This really doesn’t sound good, guys.” I inserted the obvious.

Scott got a phone call, and Stiles and I just looked at him, trying to hear his hushed whispers. Then suddenly, he ran out of the classroom. Stiles just looked at me and I nodded my head as he followed his friend out of the room. Ms. Blake looked to me and I just shrugged my shoulders.

When the boys got back at lunch, Stiles texted me to meet them in Ms. Morrel’s office. She told us to find Deaton, we had to use Lydia. Scott went off one way and Stiles and I took another trying to hunt her down. We found her with Cora, who was clearly trying to threaten her. We found an empty classroom. After nothing worked, Scott came in holding his shoulder, telling us that Danny was a target, but not a sacrifice. Scott went off to Allison’s and Stiles left for the hospital. Lydia and I stayed in school and waited for them to tell us what was going on.

third person pov

It was a whirlwind after Scott and Stiles met Lydia, y/n, and Cora in Deaton’s office. They figured out the spot where Deaton was most likely being kept using Danny’s paper. Scott split to go find him, while everyone else went to Derek’s to try and help. When they got there, they had to figure out a way to get the electric back on, hoping for the original plan to work. Cora, Lydia, and y/n flipped on all the switches as Stiles texted Isaac. Cora and Stiles bolted up the stairs as Lydia and y/n finished flipping the breakers. They followed closely behind.

y/n ran up, on Lydia’s heels slightly out of breath. She saw Cora kneeling over Boyd’s limp body, Stiles hand on Derek’s shoulder, and Isaac next to Ms. Blake. She gave Isaac a sad look, knowing how the boy must be feeling. First Erica and now Boyd as much as she hated him, she wouldn’t wish this on her worst enemy. She knew the agonizing things Isaac had been through.

He stood up and looked at her, with tears in his eyes, something she hadn’t seen since before he turned into a werewolf. It was a simple gesture really, y/n held out her hand for Isaac to grab. He only held it for a few moments, but it was enough time. They all missed the jealousy that flashed in Stiles’ eyes, except Lydia of course. As soon as the moment between y/n and Isaac started it was over. She made her way to Stiles and Derek as he walked over to Boyd’s body.

y/n thought Stiles would drive her home, but he had asked Lydia without her knowing.

y/n pov

“Do you know why Stiles didn’t drive me home?” I asked Lydia, hoping she would have some more insight than me.

She pursed her lips at me, “You really don’t know y/n/n?”

“Nooooo...I wouldn’t be asking you if I knew.”

“Well what happened between Isaac and you back there?” She gave me a pointed look.

“What do you mean? Nothing happened. He was sad, I could tell how he was feeling...so I squeezed his hand for like 2 seconds to comfort him. He wasn’t going to show anyone else how he was feeling. I caught him in a moment of weakness. I hate the guy, but he doesn’t deserve another one of his best friends dying. Especially like that.”

“Well...maybe you and I understand that, but I bet someone else doesn’t.”

“What? Stiles...why does that matter?”

“Oh come on, he totally likes you! You should have seen the look in his eyes”

I looked at her in disbelief, “What? No, what do you mean? He doesn’t like me...he has a crush on you doesn’t he?”

“Maybe he did a while ago...but it hasn’t been like that lately. He looks at you the way he used to look at me, I can promise you that.”

I was so confused. How did I not notice this before? Usually Lydia knew what he was talking about...but how could I not have known? I’d always liked Stiles, I feel like I connected to him the most...even more than Lydia. And honestly, he was cute, super cute, although his sarcasm could be off-putting at times. There was just no way, Stiles couldn’t possibly feel that way about me.

After Lydia dropped me off, I debated calling Stiles. My mind was going 100 miles per minute. Was it too soon to like someone else? Did Stiles even like me? What if I’m debating this and then embarrassed myself because he didn’t feel that way? Why was I even freaking out about this? It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world….

I picked up my phone and searched for our texts.

[me]: Hey, I kinda need to talk. Do you think you could come over? You can use my front door this time! :)

I put my phone down and waited, I don’t know why I was feeling so stupid nervous.

[Sti :)]: sure, be there in 10.

Now I was even more nervous, damn it! Why did Lydia have to go and put this shit in my head. I paced my living room, waiting to hear the jeep pull up. Do I just straight up tell him what Lydia told me? Do I try to dance around it? Before I had time to lose my mind some more, he pulled into my driveway. I waited for him to knock before I went to the door so I didn’t look like a psycho waiting for him.

“Hey Stiles.” I said to him, opening the door for him to come in.

“So what’s wrong? Why’d you call me over at 11 o’clock?” He said sitting down on my couch.

“Nothing is wrong exactly…” I said, still not knowing how to continue. Stiles looked at me expectantly. “Okay, well listen, Lydia said something to me on the drive home tonight...still confused why you didn’t take me home by the way. And I guess I just don’t know how to feel about what she said…”

“I just had some things to do. So what is it that she said?”

“I can tell when you’re lying Stiles, especially since you would have just said something to me if that was the case…”

“Listen...you said you needed to talk, I didn’t know I was getting interrogated…” He said, clearly annoyed.

“I’m not trying to interrogate you Stiles, I guess I’m just trying to figure out if what she said was true, before I embarrass myself…” I looked at him with nervous eyes, hoping that he would understand I wasn’t trying to be accusatory, I just wanted the truth.

“Well I guess,” He started standing up and pacing my living room , like I had been doing not 10 minutes ago, “I saw what happened between you and Isaac, and listen I know I have no reason to have any type of teeling towards that, but after seeing what went down during the breakup...I don’t know. I guess I felt like he didn’t deserve your kindness. And well, I guess I was a little jealous. And don’t take that the wrong way, I know you just broke up with him and you guys had been together for a while, but…”

Instead of letting him ramble, I interrupted him, “So you like me then?”

“I…” He looked at me and I smiled at him, seeing him pacing and rubbing his chin.

“I think I like you, too.” I said feeling more confident about my feelings.

Wh….wh..you..what?” He sputtered.

“Yeah, I think I do. I mean Isaac and I just broke up, but I had known it was over for a while. I don’t want to rush into things. I don’t want you or anyone else to think it’s a rebound or something, but I do like you. And I would like to see where this could go...if that’s what you want?”

He smiled down at me, “Yeah, I would definitely like that a lot.”

third person pov

Between Stiles and y/n, Allison and Isaac, and figuring out about the Darach life seemed to be flying by for the group. y/n and Stiles said they were going to take it slow, but that lasted all of two seconds, they went on a date the day after their conversation. And boy was it a real date, Stiles spent all day freaking out because he wanted it to be perfect. Not that it was, a lot of shit went wrong. He had planned a very intricate, multi-part date.

First, they had an early lunch in the park, where a bird stole most of their food and shit on them.

Second, Stiles had planned an arcade/bowling date. The machines kept eating their tickets and the pins got stuck after every single turn they took.

Third, they had a reservation at a nicer restaurant in town...but the bowling fiasco made them late and they lost their table.

Fourth, and finally, Stiles had taken y/n back to the same park they had started at. He laid out a blanket so they could look up at the stars. When he finally thought something was going right, the sprinklers turned on and soaked the pair.

As they ran back to the jeep, Stiles was silently cursing everyone he could possibly think of. He was so pissed, he wanted this to be perfect. He wanted to impress y/n, he wanted her to know she was fucking important. Meanwhile, y/n was thanking everyone she could think of. Even with all the ‘issues’, they had so much fun. She had enjoyed herself more than she had in a while. She was truly, entirely happy. She felt important.

“I’m so sorry about all of this...it was supposed to be perfect.” Stiles said running up the hill with y/n’s hand in his.

y/n stopped him, ignoring the sprinklers that were soaking them, “But it was Stiles, just because everything didn’t go as planned doesn’t mean it wasn’t perfect. I had the best time I’ve had in a long time. You literally did all this for me, I don’t care about all the problems. You made this such a special night.”

Stiles smiled at y/n, “You really mean that? I just wanted to show you that I was really serious about this, whether it takes weeks or months or whatever.”

“I know you are Stiles and I am too. You’re very important to me.”

Instead of saying anything, he stepped closer to y/n and looked into her eyes. He knew this is what he wanted. His feelings were confirmed as soon as Isaac and y/n broke up and he let himself think of her as more than a friend. He hurt for her when he witnessed the way Isaac treated her in the hallway the day they broke up. He wanted to do nothing more than drive to her house and comfort her that day and every day since.

y/n was staring up at Stiles. She couldn’t describe the feeling she had, she just felt entirely happy. For a few hours she had been able to forget about all the drama with Isaac and the sacrifices and all the werewolf shit. Stiles had made her laugh and smile all night. Before Stiles could make a move, y/n stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to Stiles’. He gasped a little before he relaxed into her kiss. They pulled away and smiled at each other, it wasn’t quite a kiss in the rain, but it was close enough for them. They walked contentedly back to the jeep, Stiles was no longer pissed at the night. He was excited for what was to come.

[grumpyhedgehogs]

those who are left behind (share the grief between them)

Summary: Cody goes to find Rex. Ahsoka finds him first. AO3. Part 2 of “scraps” series. Part 1. Part 3, Part 4, Part 5.

Warnings: Grief/mourning, canon-typical violence.

Cody tries to find Rex.

It’s the only thing he can think of after he manages to get off the Death Star--a feat in and of itself, as he knew it would be. He’d had a couple close calls; he knows he was on the list to be transferred to a teaching job for new initiates, and clones as a whole were kept under close watch. Too many of the vode had killed themselves or disappeared or went berserk and killed their commanding officers. (Cody thinks about those brothers now and wonders how crazy they really were.) He’s not sure if he was under closer observation than most post-Order 66, due to his place at Kenobi's side for years; those memories are hazy, and upsetting besides. Obviously Vader didn’t think he’d be more of a problem than anyone else now, because even with the close watch Cody’d been able to slip security and hitch a ride on a stolen emergency shuttle with little fanfare. The fiasco with the droids weeks earlier taught everyone exactly how much the Empire let slip between the cracks.

The lightsaber was tempting. It still is. But Vader keeps it in his secure chamber, hoarding it like a Krayt dragon. Cody didn’t even try.

So he gets away and goes to find Rex. Rex, who had told him about the chips. Rex, who Cody had dismissed. Rex, who was made commander and promptly had everything else taken from him with Order 66. Rex, who Cody had seen hide nor hair of during his tenure as CC-2224. Cody tries to find Rex.

Ahsoka finds him first.

He's on some backwater planet, somewhere bleak and angry looking; drab grey roads and trees with no foliage against a blood-red sky. The people here live in hovels and call themselves lucky. Cody closes his eyes as he leaves the tiny fishing market on the edge of the docks. The smell clogs his nose and makes him want to retch, but for a moment he can almost feel the weight of Obi-Wan’s hand on his shoulder. He can picture the exact curl of Obi-Wan’s mouth, the twitch of an eyebrow as he tells Cody to find the beauty in the small things. The people here are born with silver scales lining their cheekbones, their fingers webbed with thin, iridescent skin that catches the light just right and turns to millions of colors. There are children who actually play in the street here. There are no stormtroopers raiding the stalls. Happiness comes in small packages, Obi-Wan would say. Cody exhales the smell of dead fish and wraps the robe tighter around himself.

It was probably too big on Obi-Wan by the end; it fits comfortably around his shoulders, and although Obi-Wan was a little taller, he certainly wasn't wider than Cody even on the best day. He’d slimmed down during the war too; they’d had few rations going around in the hard times--it was always a task getting the general to eat when his men were going hungry. Cody nearly put him on an IV a couple times.

The robe covers what’s left of his stark white stormtrooper armor well enough. He’d stripped the leg armor off immediately, stole some fatigues from a clothesline when he’d landed on the first planet he could find and slipped those over his blacks. He’s been planet hopping for a while, chasing rumors of rebels and crossing imperial battlegrounds. They’re burial sites now. Cody doesn’t know enough about the Force to do more than read the fallen their last rights and ask them to be well as they pass on. Every place is the same; empty, except for bones. The Mando’a prayers spill from his lips easily but his voice is rusty and Cody usually settles for a silent vigil instead. There are so many dead.

After the first graveyard, Cody stripped off as much of the white paint from his vambraces as he could. It’s a shoddy job, but it’s the best he can do. Paint is a luxury he can’t afford. Cody doesn’t have a credit to his name.

He bows his head to the small woman who pushes a package filled with row after row of tiny fish into his hands and chatters at him in an unknown language. Places like this, even as untouched by the Empire as they seem, know hardship. The people here are kind. Obi-Wan would be proud to have met them. Cody tries to be proud too, but his chest is so hollow now. The robe flutters and whips against his knees as he walks away.

He’s outside town limits, thinking about a campfire and shelter, when he hears it. There’s the scrape of a boot on rock somewhere above him in the hills that line the dirt road. He should have gotten off the path into the treeline when he’d had the chance. The hood is good cover from the light rain but it gives too much of the movement of his head away; by the time Cody whirls around, there is no one behind him. He scans the trees anyway and counts how many bolts he has in his blaster. He’d taken out those troopers on Florrum weeks ago. A couple of hunting trips when he couldn’t beg or work for any food in townships. He’ll have to make the shots count.

But before he can do more than pull the blaster from his sleeve, they're upon him. There’s a sound of ignition, one that has Cody thrown years into the past, and then a flash of white. A figure in dark clothes bears down on him with a white lightsaber, and Cody doesn’t mean to react how he does, he really doesn’t, it’s not red but—

But he’s spent years as a slave to a lightsaber wielder dressed all in black and he can’t do that again, not after watching Obi-Wan fall. He can't go back to the Death Star. Cody pulls his blaster and fires a shot, dodging to the left and then feigning a stumble, hoping to get around to the attacker's other side. The other fighter, also cloaked and hooded against the rain, is spry and wiry--perhaps female--and obviously trained. One of those Knights of the Empire they were talking about training? They dodge another bolt as Cody curses and then a second ‘saber lights up and--the handles are the wrong way around.

They’re holding their lightsabers wrong. Cody nearly does trip this time, only just scrambling back from a slice that surely would have taken his head off. As he does, the figure speaks.

“Where did you get that robe?” They hiss, and prepare to strike again.

“ Ahsoka?”

“Wh-- Cody? ”

“Oh, Force,” Cody says, feeling like he did when Longshot knocked all the air out of him during a sparring session. He pushes his hood down hurriedly. Rain splashes down his forehead, rolls off the end of his nose, fills his mouth. “It is you. You’re alive!”

He’d been so afraid of being alone.

Ahsoka, older and leaner and sadder than he’s ever seen her, lowers her own hood. One ‘saber stays in her hand. Good. “Cody. You’re...you.”

“I remembered,” Cody chokes out. It’s hard not to vomit when he thinks about it for too long. “Who I was, before the Order. I remembered.”

Ahsoka’s eyes are sharp. Her mouth is a thin line. “Good men lost their lives that day. Dead men walked among us for years afterward. I--I’m sorry for your loss, Cody. It has been a long time.”

“I’m sorry too,” Cody says. It tastes like ash in his mouth, like the pyre he should’ve given Obi-Wan and never got the chance to. “The vode weren’t the only people lost that day.”

She softens, if only just. The lightsaber is hooked onto her belt under her own robe. “It really is you. Come then, I have a fire.”

They settle around her campsite, small and remote, on a perfect vantage point, before she speaks again. Cody is waiting for her when she does. He unwraps the fish, ignoring the mud splashed onto the scales from their impromptu fight, and lays them out on a flat rock in the fire. They are too small to debone individually; they’ll have better luck eating around the skeletons and hoping for the best. (“If you kill my grandpadawan via choking on a fish bone I will never forgive you,” jokes the Obi-Wan in his head and Cody suppresses a snort.)

“The robe.” Ahsoka murmurs. Her lekku twitch, in apprehension or agitation Cody isn’t sure. The pit in his gut, always there, yawns wider. She’s Obi-Wan’s family. Next of kin. He by all rights should give it to her, but… “It has Obi-Wan’s Force signature infused in it, but I recognized that yours was different. I thought…”

“I’d taken it off his body.” Cody finishes for her. Ahsoka nods, grim. He nods too and flips the fish. “You’re almost right. He didn’t leave behind a body, just his lightsaber and the robe. Vader killed him; it’s what woke me up. Chip’s stopped working, I guess. Too old.”

“I felt him when he went.” Ahsoka’s eyes are far away when Cody snatches a glance at her. She sits, back ramrod straight, unyielding, steely. He thinks Obi-Wan would have been like this in the end; untouchable, almost. He was statuesque, carved from marble, right up until the moment he died. “His light went out; that day the Force got much darker.”

“Wasn’t sure it could get darker.”

“Obi-Wan spoke once to me,” Ahsoka tells him after a long silence. She takes the food offered and nods her thanks. Cody’s heart is dead, has been since he left the Death Star, but he curls his fingers into the robe’s edges and listens anyway. He never stops hurting these days. “Through the Force, I mean. It was right after--right after. Just a fleeting thing, a feeling. He wanted to make sure I was safe, that I knew he--”

Cody doesn’t move when her words cut off. He knows. She knows.

It is like stripping off his own skin with a dull blade when Cody shrugs out of the robe and offers it up. “Here.” His voice is hoarse, tortured, not his own. “I just--you’re his family, but I can’t... please.”

Ahsoka is beautiful even when she cries. The robe looks worn, dingy in her hands, but she holds it close, like a child. She has to work hard to get the next sentence out. “You loved him.”

Cody nods. His face is wet too. “Still,” he whispers, almost inaudibly over the fire. “Still.”

“It’s yours,” Ahsoka promises. “Let me meditate with it, just once, and then--it’s yours. It’s yours.”

Ahsoka goes still; her shoulders stop hitching after a while, her cheeks dry, her breathing evens. Cody does not sleep, but he does drift. He knows she will not mind the salt water on his own face when she wakes. Obi-Wan would tell him to release his grief, perhaps that Obi-Wan is not worth it; Cody holds on almost greedily, bottles up the pain and sorrow and regret and keeps it with him, cold as ice in his chest.

He knows she comes back by the small cry that slips past her lips; she jerks in place, nearly toppling from her meditation pose. Ahsoka straightens again and clenches her hands in the robe, head bowed. “Alright?” Softly, softly. He knew her when she was just a child.

“Meditation is rougher than it used to be,” Ahsoka admits, and, reluctant, passes the fabric over in a bundle. “Thank you.”

“I miss him too.”

“What are you doing out here?”

Cody smiles without real feeling. “Following you. Or the Rebellion in general, I guess. Thought maybe I could find Rex that way.”

Ahsoka raises her eyebrows. “The Rebellion hasn’t been here for months; I’m just here checking up to make sure refugees we helped are still doing alright.”

“You guys got a head start on me.”

Her laughter is quiet, like Obi-Wan’s used to be. Cody looks away, twists his hands in the robe.

Wait.

He knows Obi-Wan won’t mind. He lost so many during the war anyway, went through them like tissue paper. It was a game among the 212th, who could find them on the battlefield first.

Cody looks up, eyes Ahsoka shrewdly. She’s taller, more muscular than she used to be. He’s no seamstress. “Scarf or sash?”

Ahsoka blinks at him. He presses his lips together and nods. “Sash. Won’t get in the way.”

The sleeve comes apart at the seams easily enough. Cody ignores her protest, and tears the other sleeve away too before pocketing one--someone else will want it, someone else who can hold vigil with Cody and Ahsoka both. Then he tears open the remaining sleeve and flattens it, before holding it out to her. “Through the belt loops,” he advises, blandly, like the tears on both their faces don’t exist. Her eyes are the size of dinner plates in her head. “Won’t get in the way when you pull your weapon.”

Ahsoka’s lips tremble when she takes the scrap of fabric. Cody doesn’t watch her loop it through her belt, taking the time to wrap the rest of the robe around his shoulders in a makeshift poncho; the hood hangs down his back still, and the ends of the robe are still long enough to cover most of his breastplate, some of the only trooper armor he has kept. There is a scratch on the shoulder from when an overconfident Jawa took a shot at him on Florrum.

Ahsoka gasps when he looks up. She gestures at his chest. “You…”

Cody splays his hand where she indicates, over the insignia he painstakingly etched into the armor covering his heart. The lightsaber was tricky to overlay on the 212th logo. It took him hours. He has a lot more time on his hands now that he’s not being controlled by the chip, though; it was worth it.

“Yes,” Cody answers. “I--I don’t want to forget again. Never again.”

Ahsoka reaches out and takes his hand over the fire that gutters low in their makeshift hearth. A thousand lives lie between them, and a thousand deaths. Her hand holds his so carefully. Cody squeezes back and feels Obi-Wan smile. “Never again,” Ahsoka vows.

[bitterlikesweets]

Love Bites Ch 4

This is the fourth chapter of a modern/vampire AU ereri fanfic. You can also read it on Ao3.

Prev | Next

“Armin, what the fuck?”

Armin freezes in the doorway to Eren’s apartment, readjusting the massive stack of books in his arms as he looks up at his friend, confused.

“What?”

“Why did you bring an entire library with you?” Eren asks, moving out of the way so that his blond friend could come inside.

“Well, you said you wanted to talk about vampire stuff, so I thought it would be a good chance to go over what I’ve been researching. I just wasn’t sure what to focus on, so in the end, I brought everything.”

Armin smiles sheepishly, setting down the stack of books on the floor by the door. Eren's apartment is small—a desk, bed, bathroom, and a kitchenette. Armin's precariously stacked books nearly rise to the height of the desk they were placed beside. Eren shakes his head in disbelief, angling his head to scan the titles on the spines.

“I just… Got ahead of myself. We haven’t talked about it in detail since…”

Armin falters, biting his lip, and Eren kneels down by the books, in a hurry to find something to help him change the subject. One harrowing walk down memory lane was more than enough for Eren; he has no desire to lose his cool twice within one week.

His gaze locks on a book with an image of a pair of pale hands and a red apple on the book’s spine.

“Armin,” Eren says, wiggling the book to pull it out of the stack without sending the whole thing toppling to the floor. “You brought Twilight?”

Armin flushes pink, snatching the book out of Eren’s hand.

“I just—I needed to check everything, okay? If vampires are real, then it’s possible that any references in pop culture have some truth to them!”

Eren laughs and Armin throws the book at Eren’s shoulder, which just makes him laugh even more. Armin eventually sighs and settles onto the floor beside Eren, who is still examining the stack of books.

“You look better,” Armin says, and Eren tilts his head curiously when he turns to look at his friend.

“Better?”

“I mean, like, physically. You have a bit more… color.”

“Ah,” Eren says, and now it’s his turn to blush. He turns his head away, hoping his hair will hide his face from view. “I, uh… That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll explain when Mikasa gets here,” Eren says, grabbing an old copy of Dracula and running his fingers over the worn cover. He's cautious with the book, making sure to keep his grip light, wanting no repeats of anything like the table fiasco back at Kuchel's Kitchen.

He can feel Armin’s gaze on him, but Armin doesn’t ask for clarification just yet, so Eren breathes a sigh of relief.

“What exactly are you researching with all this stuff anyway?”

“I was just trying to contrast books and legends against what you actually experience,” Armin says.

Armin reaches towards the bottom of the stack, where a spiral notebook is trapped between the floor and the rest of the books, managing to pull it out, though the stack sways precariously for a moment.

Eren leans over Armin’s shoulder when he flips the notebook open.

“Sunlight and garlic are a danger to you,” Armin says, pointing to a list of possible dangers on the page.

Sunlight and garlic have little checkmarks next to them. Eren’s eyes quickly scan the list. He sees holy water, mirrors, and bricks listed, though he has no idea what special quality about bricks makes him more susceptible to them as a vampire.

“There’s the classic threat of wooden stakes,” Armin continues, his finger sliding down the page, “though we have no way to test that without risking your life.”

“Put a check next to that one,” Eren says.

Armin blinks and looks up at Eren with a frown.

“How do you know? What trouble did you get into in the week that I haven’t seen you?”

“No trouble!” Eren says quickly, but he winces and rephrases. “Not bad trouble anyway.”

Armin frowns and sets the notebook down on the floor, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Eren.”

“That’s also part of what I need to explain once Mikasa—”

He’s cut off by a sharp knock on the door, and Armin is the one who rushes to answer. Mikasa steps in with a grocery bag over her arm, though she frowns as she takes in Armin’s expression.

“What?” she asks, but Armin just whirls around to face Eren.

“Okay,” Armin says, “time for the explanation.”

Eren sighs, setting Dracula on his knee before gesturing for his friends to come closer.

“Sit down,” he says. “This might take a while.”

~ ~ ~

“I’ll do it,” Mikasa says as soon as Eren has finished his recap of the situation.

Eren frowns.

“Do what?”

“I’ll be your partner.”

“Oh.”

Eren stares dumbly at her, and Mikasa frowns, bunching her shirt in her fists.

“I mean, unless you’d rather not—”

“No! No, it’s not that, I just…” Eren takes a breath. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she replies with a firm nod. “I mean, you’re going to need blood either way. It might as well be me.”

“Me too!” Armin pipes up. “There’s no rule against multiple partners, is there?”

“I doubt it,” Eren says. “Levi didn’t say anything about it anyway.”

He thinks of their conversation, about concerns about drinking too much. Perhaps two people would even be better. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to them. Maybe they could alternate weeks, that way their blood would replenish, or however the fuck this worked.

“Uh,” Armin begins after a moment, “does it hurt?”

“Does it matter if it does?” Mikasa asks him, and Armin quickly shakes his head.

“I would help either way! I just… I mean, I would like to know if it does hurt. Just to be prepared.”

Eren reaches up to the scar on his neck, to the bite mark he knows is there. He doesn’t remember it that well. He also doesn’t know if there’s something different about biting just to drink and biting to turn.

He wonders if that’s why Levi is always offering his wrist instead of his neck.

“You’d have to ask Levi that,” Eren says eventually, and Mikasa scowls.

“I don’t trust that man.”

“What? Why?” Eren asks.

“I mean, you said he’s a vampire hunter. Why would he help you? What if he put garlic in your lasagna on purpose? He could’ve ignored that no garlic message from the waitress and just pretended he didn't understand. Maybe he’s just pretending to be innocent so he can kill you later.”

“He said he doesn’t hunt anymore,” Eren says. He unconsciously raised his voice and tries to tone it down, unsure why he’s trying so hard to defend the man he barely knows. “Why would he give me his blood if he was trying to hurt me?”

“All I’m saying,” Mikasa says, holding up her hands, “is that I doubt a vampire hunter would just quit and basically switch sides for no reason. Until we know that reason, I want you to be careful.”

“Why don’t we go with you next time?” Armin suggests. “We have questions we need to ask, and it’ll help Mikasa worry less.”

Eren casts a wary glance in Mikasa’s direction, but he eventually nods.

“When are you going?” Armin asks.

“He just said to come the next time I’m thirsty,” Eren says with a shrug.

“Then, let us know when that time comes,” Mikasa says, and Eren nods, though a frown pulls at his lips.

Eren thinks about the way he cried after talking about his mom, about the table he flung across the room after getting upset. Those are details he conveniently left out of his explanation—also Levi pretending to throw a massive stake at him—because he didn’t want to worry his friends too much. He doesn’t want to put his friends in any danger, especially while he still doesn’t know what he’s capable of.

“Actually,” he says after a moment, “can you guys hold off for a bit?”

Mikasa frowns.

“Why?”

“Because, uh…” He scrambles to think up an excuse. “Because I don’t want to spring it on him! I don’t really have any way to contact him, and I would prefer to warn him before I just bring people to our vampire lessons, you know?”

Mikasa continues to frown, unconvinced, but Armin nods, and Eren takes that as all the answer he needs.

“That’s fine,” Armin says, and he nudges Mikasa with his elbow. “Right, Mikasa?”

She huffs and looks away, but after a moment, she nods.

“If he hurts you,” Mikasa begins, her voice low, “I’m going to go over there and shove a stake right up his—”

“Anyways!” Armin exclaims loudly, pointedly ignoring Mikasa’s glare. “Since that’s settled, let’s talk vampires. What should we have Eren ask Levi?”

Armin flips to a new page in his notebook, pulling a pen from his pocket.

“Does being bit…” Armin mumbles as he writes, “hurt a lot? There.”

He hands the notebook and the pen to Mikasa.

“Are there any restrictions about numbers of partners?” she says as she writes, and Eren is genuinely surprised that her question doesn’t have any insult worked into it.

When the notebook is passed to him, Eren glances at the stack of books, skimming the titles. He knows so little about vampires that it’s hard to think of a single question.

A book he pulled from the stack earlier catches his eye, and Eren grins.

“How much of Twilight is accurate?”

“Eren!” Armin exclaims, snatching the notebook away.

Mikasa’s gaze shifts to the stack of books, her eyes settling on the novel in question.

“...Didn’t know you read that sort of thing, Armin,” she says.

“I don’t! It was for Eren that I even brought it!”

“Dracula makes sense to me,” Eren says, “but come on, Armin. Twilight?”

“Oh, Dracula!” Armin exclaims, his voice an octave higher as he frantically tries to change the subject. “You don’t need to be invited into buildings. I’ll cross that off the list.”

Armin moves to flip the page, but it’s Mikasa who takes the notebook into her hands to write something down.

“Do vampires get offended by humans who think Twilight is accurate?” she asks, the pen darting across the page.

“Mikasa, not you too!”

Armin lunges for the notebook, but she quickly passes it to Eren who holds it up and out of reach, laughing.

"Do vampires sparkle like they do in Twilight?" Eren asks, dancing out of the way of Armin, who is still desperately attempting to take the notebook back.

Mikasa picks up the book and skims through the pages, her subsequent hum sending Armin lunging at her next.

"Does a vampire's sense of smell work like it does in Twilight?" Mikasa manages to ask before Armin tackles her to the ground and sends her into a fit of laughter as they wrestle over the silly book. Eren grins and takes the chance to scribble all their idiotic questions into Armin's notebook.

“What other Twilight related questions could I ask…” Eren muses, tapping the pen against his chin.

A well aimed book is thrown at the back of Eren’s ankles, and despite the pain, Armin’s attack just makes Eren laugh even harder. The blond groans in frustration, burying his face into his hands.

“I’m never helping you with anything ever again!”

[haberdashing]

What A Tangled Web We Weave (11/?)

TMA AU diverging from canon at the end of episode 92. Jon is forced into an arranged marriage by Elias; Martin does what he can to help.

on AO3

Martin went back to his desk silently, and though he could feel Tim staring at him, Tim neither said a word nor made any sign of getting up. The tension in the air was palpable, though. Martin kept glancing over at Tim, checking to see if he was still there, to see how bothered he looked about being back in Martin’s presence, and Tim kept glancing back at Martin in return, though his glances were really closer to glares.

A few times, Martin caught Tim looking over at someone and opening his mouth, but not actually saying anything before he closed it again. Once, Tim caught Martin watching this happen, and if looks could kill, Martin would very likely have been struck dead on the spot.

(He’d offered his help, though. He’d offered Tim a way out. How much of all this was still his fault given that Tim had refused his offer?)

Tim wasn’t the only one Martin had to think about now, though. Maybe Jon would put together the pieces, figure out the truth that Tim had been alluding to, whether intentionally or accidentally. Maybe any real bond to be found in their relationship had just been broken before it could even form.

Should he have told Jon? Would it have been any better, admitting the truth of the situation now rather than putting it off indefinitely? Could he have told Jon, given Jon’s unfortunate choice of wording in his question? Was lying by omission bad enough that Jon would hold it against him when all was said and done?

Martin didn’t know the answers, but just thinking about all the questions was enough to make his head swim.

It was not Martin’s most productive day at work, but then, that was rather to be expected, wasn’t it?

The evening after work went by in a blur, and soon enough it was morning, time for Martin to return to the Institute, and Martin knew it was probably a bad sign that he almost missed lying in bed unable to sleep for hours on end, because at least that had given him some time to himself, even if he ended up sleep-deprived as a result...

Tim wasn’t there when Martin first arrived in the archives that day, but he turned up in a matter of minutes, glancing over at Martin before... sitting down and starting to do some research, by the looks of it. Tim actually doing his job shouldn’t have seemed like such a surprise, really, but apparently that was just the point they were at these days.

(To be fair, while Melanie worked hard enough on the research front, and Martin did try at least despite many distractions and shortcomings, Basira, despite being an official archival assistant for days now, had yet to do anything besides read; she was on another new book today, by the looks of it, a nice thick hardcover whose name Martin couldn’t quite make out.)

Martin briefly thought about talking to Tim, trying to make conversation about what he was working on, but quickly thought better of it. Instead he remained silent, as did the rest of the archives for some time, the only noise made the flipping of pages or clicking of buttons.

Martin missed the old days, when it was him and Tim and Sasha (back when there had been Sasha) and they were all friends, and they’d joke around in between tasks or chat about how things had been going, how their weekends had been... back when weekends meant something, as the archives crew had more or less given up on them some months back now...

The phrase All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy occurred to Martin suddenly, and he shook his head as he tried to focus on his work again, to get that phrase and the implications thereof well and truly out of his head.

It was getting close to lunch time when Jon finally made an appearance, but he only stuck his head out of his office for long enough to say that he needed someone to go hunt down a few books in the library for him, even though it’d probably take a bit due to the library’s idiosyncratic organizational scheme. (Not that the archives staff really had much room to talk there...)

Martin really wished he had it in him to be surprised that Tim volunteered for the task immediately after Jon offered it up, rushing off to the library without even a hint of hesitation.

Martin gently sighed as Tim vanished from sight, but just as he was going to pretend like nothing had happened and go back to work, Melanie spoke up.

“What’s the deal with you two, anyway?”

Martin glanced briefly at Basira, who seemed as lost in her book as ever, before looking back at Melanie, who had gotten out of her seat and taken a few steps towards Martin’s desk.

“What d’you mean?”

“I mean, you keep staring at each other without saying a word, like you’re each waiting for the other to- to sprout another head or something, it’s honestly kind of creepy-”

Martin scratched the back of his neck nervously. “...that obvious, huh?”

Melanie snorted. “You’re not as subtle as you seem to think you are.”

Martin gulped. “G-good to know, I suppose.”

“Especially with how Tim kept avoiding you after you asked about him, and after Tim went into Jon’s office he asked for you right after-”

Martin hadn’t actually considered how that must have looked to Melanie (and Basira) before, and he could feel his face heat up as he realized the implications there. “Yeah, I, I know how it all went down, don’t really need the reminder.”

“But you still haven’t answered my question.” Melanie took another step closer to Martin. “What’s going on between you two?”

Martin hesitated, his mind racing, and Melanie spat out, “And don’t tell me it’s nothing, I’m smarter than that, thanks.”

“You’re right, it’s, it’s not nothing, but-”

But Martin wasn’t sure exactly what it was, and what he did know he certainly wasn’t going to tell Melanie right off the bat. Luckily, he was pretty sure he could cobble together a story that would make plenty of sense just the same. It didn’t have to be perfect, after all; it only had to last a few weeks at most.

“Just don’t-” Martin stopped himself from finishing that sentence, paused for a moment as he reconsidered his words. He wasn’t going to risk accidentally commanding Melanie like that, not when he’d seen what a mess it made before, when the fiasco it had caused and the divide it had cemented between him and Tim was the very subject he was discussing with her. “I’d- I’d appreciate it if you don’t go blabbing to Tim about all this? I think he’s a bit, er, sensitive about the subject, especially at the moment.”

Melanie put one hand on her hip, leaning slightly towards Martin in the process. “’The subject’ being?”

“Us? I mean Tim and myself-” Melanie made a strange face at that, and Martin could see exactly where her mind had went, and he hadn’t meant that, hadn’t anticipated that, and though it fit the story he was crafting well enough he scrambled to correct that impression. “Not like that, not like that! That’s actually kind of the problem, really, that it’s not like that.”

Melanie raised one eyebrow. “Problem for which of you?”

“Tim, I suppose? Though now both of us sort of, since things are all kinds of awkward between us now and- I’m not explaining this well, am I?”

Melanie shook her head, loose strands of dark hair clinging to her cheeks. “You’re really not.”

“Right.” Martin let out a choked sort of laugh. “So, so it started before you joined us, back when I was living in the Archives, and Tim burst into the room I was staying in and started speculating about me liking someone, which- which is not the point here, but the point is, he made it very clear that if I were interested in him, he’d be interested right back.”

At least, Martin was pretty sure that’s what Tim had meant with the whole “dance card’s open” thing, though it wasn’t the most common way of phrasing such a sentiment.

The best lies were based on the truth, at least in part, after all. Martin had learned that well enough already.

“I see.” Melanie still looked a bit skeptical, but her eyes were locked on his, focusing on his every move.

“And then he just... left the room after saying that, and we never really talked about it after that? At least not until, well, until Sunday happened. And the thing is Tim’s a great guy, don’t get me wrong, he’ll be a catch for whoever he ends up with, but that’s not going to be me. I don’t feel that way about him, I just don’t.”

“Christ, it’s like living in a romcom, isn’t it?”

The laughter that escaped Martin’s lips wasn’t entirely false. Melanie wasn’t wrong, after all, was she? Though this would have to be a very strange romcom indeed...

“It is! And now we have to work together, and it was easy enough when we were just friends, but now...” As Martin let the statement trail off into oblivion, a thought occurred to him. “Actually, you know what, if you see Tim, maybe tell him that for me. Not the whole story, no need to rehash it all, but just- I miss being friends with him. Just friends. And I’d like things to be that way again, if, if we can make that work somehow.”

Melanie hesitated, and for a brief moment Martin remembered how Tim had hesitated when Martin had told him not to tell anyone about his extra eyes, and Martin started frantically hitting his mental rewind button, trying to figure out if he’d managed to do the same for Melanie just now despite his best efforts-

“No promises. If I wanted to be stuck in the middle of a romcom, I would’ve made a lot of different life choices over the years.”

Martin let out a sigh of relief and a bit of nervous laughter. “But you might tell him that I’d like to be friends again?”

“If it comes up, sure, that’s a definite maybe.”

“Well, I’d... I’d appreciate that, Melanie, I really would. Thanks in advance.”

“Again, no promises. But you’re welcome, I suppose.”

As Melanie headed back to her desk, she spoke up one last time.

“God, I’m glad it’s something normal like that. I mean, I’m sure it sucks for you and all, but it’s good to know that in between ghosts and monsters and all that there’s still some regular old office drama going on, yeah?”

Martin bit his tongue a little as he forced down the laughter that threatened to surge up from within him.

“Yeah, I think I know what you mean.”

[earlybirds-atla-au]

What are the dynamics like between the water tribe trio? And what's their relationship with Aang like? Does Aang have a crush like he did with Katara?

I answered the crush question here.

~~~

“Oh no.”

Aang stopped petting Momo to look up at Kya. She’d paused in sharpening her hunting knife to squint across the campfire at Hakoda and Bato, who were chatting quietly and using a stick to draw in the dirt. Well, Hakoda was drawing in the dirt. Bato was tilting his head and staring at whatever Hakoda was doing.

“...What?” Aang asked.

Kya gestured with her knife. “They’re scheming.”

Aang blinked.

“Well, Hakoda’s scheming,” Kya amended. “Bato isn’t much of a schemer, but unfortunately he’s a good and loyal assistant.”

Aang blinked again. “And...why is that bad?”

“Well, it’s not always bad,” Kya backtracked. “I mean sometimes it’s good. Hakoda’s come up with lots of good ideas! Hunting traps, and better ways to train the dogs, and when he fights he can get...very imaginative.” She smiled fondly. “Also his ice dodging test was very impressive.”

“Okay,” said Aang, who still didn’t really understand what the big deal with ice dodging was. Momo made an annoyed chittering sound, and he scratched the lemur’s ears. “So what’s the bad part?”

Kya’s smile fell. “Nine times out of ten Hakoda’s planning is going towards a prank.”

“Oh, fun!”

“No, not fun. He’s a master, Aang. He tried to lasso an arctic hippo. He put an octopus on his head and convinced his mother he was a water spirit. One time he released an arctic hen in town hall right before my father’s State of the Tribal Union. Remember those blubber bombs we used back when we got you off that prince’s ship? We didn’t invent those for war, Aang.”

“I’m getting the feeling you invented those for a prank war,” Aang grinned.

Kya shuddered. “We do not speak of the Great Blubber Fiasco, Aang.”

Aang kicked his feet against the log they were sitting on. “It sounds like fun!”

“You would. You’re just an innocent kid. You haven’t been through the horrors that I’ve seen. The only people here for him to prank are you and me, Aang! I do not want to get caught up in” - she waved at Hakoda and Bato - “whatever this is!”

“Aw, c’mon Kya,” Aang wheedled, “you should have some fun. I bet you’re great at pranks.”

“I’m fantastic at pranks,” Kya said. “Unfortunately, someone has to be the responsible one around here, and no one else seems to be volunteering so it’s gotta be me.”

Aang kicked his feet again, but it was more contemplative this time. “You are really responsible,” he said quietly, in a way that sounded like he was saying too responsible.

Kya shrugged. “Someone has to be,” she said again.

“We all can be!” Aang insisted. “Hakoda and Bato might be a little rambunctious, yeah, but they’re smart and helpful too and - well, they went ice dodging, didn’t they?” He might not understand ice dodging, but it seemed to be a good argument. “And I’m...a goofy kid, yeah, but I’m learning!” Just the other day he’d remembered to not immediately blurt out that he was the Avatar to the first villager they met, that had to count for something, right? “You don’t have to feel like you’re the only responsible one here, Kya.”

She mulled it over. “You’re right,” she said after a moment, and she stood up.

“Uh...where are you going?”

“I’m going to see if the boys are coming up with anything useful in that dirt, and if they aren’t I’m going to remind them that it’s their turn to do the laundry. Thanks, Aang.”

“You’re welcome!”

~~~

“They are...probably going to ban me from cooking for a while,” Hakoda said gloomily.

Aang watched Kya and Bato on the other side of the smoking remains of the campfire. They were all covered in dirt and so was dinner, but at least nothing was on fire anymore. “You did kinda start a grease fire. And make it worse. And ruin dinner.”

“I tried to fix it,” Hakoda grumbled. “How was I supposed to know you don’t pour water on it? It’s fire. Water puts out fire!”

“Not a grease fire!” Aang said cheerfully, examining the mechanism in his glider staff. “Doesn’t the Water Tribe cook with oil?”

“I’ll be honest, Kya and Bato cook more than I do,” Hakoda admitted. “I’m more of a cured meat kind of guy.”

“So water and oil don’t mix,” Aang said, opening and closing the glider wings. They hadn’t been hit by the flames, thank the spirits. “And oil is lighter than water and floats on top. So when you pour water on burning oil…”

“It sinks to the bottom of the pot,” Hakoda surmised. “And...explodes, apparently.” He thought it over. “Wait, no - it flash boils, doesn’t it? It boils and the steam tries to escape through the oil and ends up flinging burning oil everywhere.”

“That’s pretty much what happened,” Aang nodded. “Bato had the right idea throwing dirt on it after it spread, but next time just smother it with the lid to the cooking pot. Fire can’t burn if it can’t breathe!”

Hakoda stared at him. “...Aang, when you use your airbending to put out fires, are you removing the oxygen from the air?”

“Sometimes!”

“Sometimes?”

“I mean it’s really tricky and removing oxygen from an area can be dangerous, we need that to breathe you know!”

Hakoda stared at him. Aang busied himself with his glider, carefully opening and closing it, and waited for the questions about airbending that he wasn’t sure how he could answer. The little wooden mechanism that made the wings work was holding up alright, but Monk Gyatso had impressed the importance of proper glider maintenance onto him. Aang doubted there was anyone in the world who could fix it if it broke.

Hakoda watched the glider wings fan in and out a few times while he digested what Aang had just told him. Across the dead campfire, Kya was griping at Bato while she piled up fresh, non-oily kindling. Bato was nodding along to whatever she was saying while doing his best to rescue dinner.

“Hey, Aang?”

Aang looked up. “Yeah?”

Hakoda hesitated, and then he said, “So, grease fires. If there was more grease...and I’d thrown on more water...it would’ve been a bigger fireball, right?”

“Uh...probably?” Aang said. “I’ve never really experimented with it. Actually that’s the first grease fire fireball I’ve ever seen! And it was pretty impressive as it was.” He gestured at their ruined campsite.

Hakoda eyed the circle of soot. “There has got to be a way to weaponize this.”

“NO!” Kya and Bato shouted, so loudly that Aang and Hakoda both jumped in their seats.

Aang recovered first. “They’re probably right,” he snickered, opening his glider wings again.

Hakoda sighed. “Yeah, probably.” On the other side of the campfire, Bato and Kya exchanged glances, rolled their eyes, and went back to their work, grumbling under their breath. Hakoda turned his attention back to Aang’s glider. “...So, have you ever taken that thing apart?”

Aang snapped the wings shut and held the staff close to his chest.

~~~

“And there they are, the future of my tribe,” Bato sighed. On the other side of the campfire, Hakoda and Kya were...sparring was too dignified a word for it. Kya had lost her club and Hakoda had strategically thrown his machete to knock her boomerang off course half a minute ago, and the whole affair had devolved into something more suited to five-year-olds than to great warriors of the Water Tribe. There was hair-pulling involved.

“You’re the future too,” Aang said, biting into a fruit Bato didn’t know the name of and enjoying the show.

“Yeah, but they’re the future politically,” Bato said, wincing when Hakoda dodged a punch Kya had aimed for his shoulder. That looked like it would’ve hurt had it landed.

“...What?” Aang asked.

“Kya’s dad is our tribe’s chief,” Bato said, watching said daughter of his chief practically flip Hakoda over her back. “And Hakoda is practically...his apprentice at this point. Kya’s got a head for leadership, but Hakoda has a passion for it. He’s been following Chief Oomailiq for years learning how to run a tribe.” Said political intern was desperately trying to get Kya in a headlock, to no avail.

“So...Hakoda’s gonna take over your tribe?” Aang asked.

“Well,” Bato said, “if he gets elected.”

“Is that hard?”

“It might be, but he’s getting plenty of experience under the chief, and he’s got a good track record on the few projects he’s helped with. Give him a few more years of leadership experience and I’d definitely feel confident voting for him.” 

“Will Kya run for chief?” Aang asked. “Since her dad is and all. I bet she could give him some stiff competition.” 

Kya had Hakoda in a headlock and was aggressively noogying him.

“She probably could, but she doesn’t want to,” Bato said. “She can take charge but she doesn’t want to be in charge. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does,” Aang said. “Water Tribe politics sure are cool! I think it’s great you guys choose your own leaders. The Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation just kind of hand their thrones to whoever’s next.”

“That’s crazy,” Bato said. “What if the next person in line is an idiot? Or mean? Or just not a good leader?”

“You know, I asked Kuzon and Bumi that once, and they looked at me like I was the crazy one!”

There was a shout from their friends across the way - Hakoda had managed to catch Kya’s wrists in his hand, holding them up. She used the leverage he afforded her to kick him in the gut.

“How did the Air Nomads do it?” Bato asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Well, we had the councils,” Aang said. “Each temple had their own. They appointed their own members, but we could nominate people we wanted to see appointed.”

“Huh,” said Bato. He wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of that, but he wasn’t going to interrogate a 12-year-old genocide survivor on the intricacies of his people’s politics. Aang probably didn’t even fully understand his people’s government - and Bato didn’t want to remind the poor kid about yet another aspect of his culture he wouldn’t be able to resurrect. “That sounds interesting.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s probably closer to what the Northern Water Tribe does.”

“What the - what?”

“Uh...you know, how the Northern Water Tribe has their chief, who appoints his council members?”

“Wait, what - ?” Bato was only vaguely aware of Kya swiping Hakoda’s feet from under him. “What kind of a democracy is that?”

“Uh...I’m pretty sure chiefdom in the Northern Tribe is hereditary?” Aang said.

“What?” Miss Kanna had definitely left that part out when she’d regaled their tribe’s children with tales of her distant homeland. To be fair, they would’ve found politics to be boring bedtime stories.

“Oh, hey, look, I think Kya won!”

Bato glanced across the campfire and had to do a double-take. Kya had pinned Hakoda to the ground, and was smiling down at him fondly. Hakoda looked far too relaxed for a man whose wrists were in a deathgrip, gazing up at Kya with a goofy grin.

“Oh my moon,” Bato groaned, reaching out to cover Aang’s eyes.

The kid dodged his hand easily. “I’m not a baby, Bato, yeesh.”

“My tribe’s future power couple,” Bato sighed, gesturing at his dumb friends.

“I’m sure they’ll be great leaders,” Aang said.

[nightqueendany]

GOT 8x02 Trailer Breakdown

The trailer starts with a meeting in the Great Hall of Winterfell with something that looks almost like a trial for Jaime...but it’s likely just a war council meeting and he’s a part of that. First item on the agenda, get update on how castle preparations are going. Second item on the agenda, decide whether to murder Jaime or not. That kind of thing. (I’m kidding. More on that below)

Jon, Dany, and Sansa are leading this meeting which surprises me because I hadn’t expected Jon to be “well” enough after the parentage reveal to attend this. But, as I keep saying and keep saying, GOT doesn’t allow it’s characters time to process things so in that sense, of course Jon would be here. He’s just silently suffering in the corner. Dany tells Jaime in the preview, “When I was a child, my brother would tell me a bedtime story, about the man who murdered our father, and all the things we would do to that man.”

Of course we’re meant to think Dany will want to kill Jaime, but my guess is this is just how she starts her speech to intimidate Jaime, after which she will tell the room what Tyrion told her about why Jaime killed the Mad King - I believe Tyrion told her about the wildfire plot back in 6x09 or something. But point is, Dany knows. She knows what her father planned to do, she isn’t going to be angry at Jaime for killing the Mad King.

But she still has a right to be angry that Jaime didn’t protect her, her mother, Viserys, Elia, and Elia’s children after Aerys was dead. This could be mentioned in the meeting but I doubt it. Although I wish it would be, because this was Jaime’s real crime. Not protecting the family he was also sworn to protect. (I would die though if Dany brings up Elia and her and Rhaegar’s children right in front of Jon, reminding him he had siblings he never had the chance to meet. UGH give it to me! But they likely won’t).

We’ve got the typical shots of Dany and Sansa looking upset:

In the snippet above, Sansa appears as if she’s about to cry. I have a very strong feeling that after Dany forgives or even thanks Jaime killing Aerys, Sansa will say something about “And what about why you pushed my brother through a window? Did you do that to save a million people?” The look on Sansa’s face here is the exact same look she had when Baelish was on trial, when she finally knew the truth about what Baelish had done to her family and she’s now looking at Jaime that same way. Sansa would hate Jaime knowing what he did to Bran and how much of the conflict between the Starks and Lannisters is also half Jaime’s fault (the other half having been started by Baelish). Actually, thinking about all this now, I’m nearly convinced that this little impromptu questioning of Jaime will greatly mirror Baelish’s trial!

Tyrion may try to come to Jaime’s defense, he appears to be looking at Sansa here, or maybe Dany, who knows.

But, of course, Bran will straighten everything out and remind everyone of priorities:

Bran didn’t die, he needed Jaime to push him so he could become the Three Eyed Raven, it was fate, Jaime is now in Winterfell to help, the dead are coming, none of this petty political nonsense is important.

Jaime will be told, probably by Bran, about the Wall coming down and the Night King and Army of the Dead marching on Winterfell:

After the trial, Sansa and Dany retreat to the library to continue talking:

Dany tells Sansa, “He never should have trusted Cersei,” and Sansa replies, “You never should have either.”

However, it’s unclear here which “he” Dany is talking about because it could mean either Jon, Tyrion, or Jaime. Arguments could be made for each, the two strongest candidates being Tyrion and Jon, but Tyrion is my best guess.

Tyrion was the one who came up with the wight hunt plan in the first place, all so Dany wouldn’t fly to King’s Landing and burn down Cersei in the Red Keep. In the scene above, Sansa will likely tell Dany that that was exactly what she should have done. It’s certainly what Sansa would have done, with her knowing Cersei much better than Dany and knowing what Cersei is capable of, don’t @ me.

This will be when Sansa and Dany start to find common ground. I already SPECULATED that Dany and Sansa would discuss/bond over Cersei:

(GODS I love when I’m right). I think in this conversation, Dany and Sansa will have a Dany/Olenna-like moment. Sansa is already suspicious of Tyrion, telling him to his face in 8x01 “I used to think you were the cleverest man alive” or whatever she said. NOW, she’s really going to be suspicious of him knowing Cersei was indeed lying. Sansa may even try to convince Dany to leave Winterfell and go quickly take care of Cersei by “being a dragon”, burning down the Red Keep, etc.

Anyway, after this meeting, the Dany/Sansa tension will be eased a little bit. They’ll at least have a certain respect for each other that wasn’t there before even if they’re not “friends” yet. 

We’ve got a curious shot of Jorah unsheathing a sword to look at it:

MANY people have analyzed the shit out of Jorah’s sword and believe it’s Heartsbane, the ancestral Valyrian steel sword of House Tarly. I haven’t really looked into that but as per the shot above, I’d say it’s at least a new sword to Jorah, hence why he’s examining it. If Sam did give Jorah Heartsbane, it was likely right before this, Sam telling him something like Jorah’s a true warrior, he needs a true sword, Sam’s not a fighter, can’t wield it well anyway, something like this.

Also, if Sam gives Jorah Heartsbane, it means their friendship is still intact after the Dany-Tarly fiasco. Jorah may even be the one to help Sam come to not entirely hate Dany for killing his father and brother. After all, after everything Sam’s been hearing about Dany since way back in S5, he appeared to have had admiration for her until he found out what she did to his family. So his hatred of her, I don’t believe, will last.

Dany visits Jon in the crypts:

And as has been pointed out, Dany appears to be coming from further back in the crypts IF Jon is indeed standing in front of Lyanna’s statue. Even in 8x01, we saw Sam come in from Jon’s left and Dany comes in from the Jon’s right. As we saw baby Sam, Gilly, and Varys hiding in the crypts, it’s possible she and Jon were down there making preparations and Jon left early to go stand in front of Lyanna and when Dany leaves from prepping the lower crypts for people to hide, this is when she finds Jon.

I still believe she won’t know what’s going on with Jon yet, she’ll likely ask him because my guess is he’s been distant toward her since Sam told him the truth. My best guess for how Dany will react is that she’ll be shocked, but she won’t be mad. This will be quite the thing to have Dany process as well because she had long thought she was the last Targaryen and had no family left and now she’ll find out that, in fact, she was never alone and has had Jon all along.

As they flew the dragons together in 8x01, I think she’ll bring this up with Jon, maybe say it’s fitting that he rode the dragon that was named for his real father. Dany could even bring up that Jon reminds her of Rhaegar, or at least, what she’s heard about her brother, all his goodness.

It’s unclear if Jon and Dany will reconcile this in this episode. I can’t imagine them fighting over this but Jon maybe still be distant with Dany, needing more time to process. He’ll likely reiterate that he doesn’t want to be King, she is his queen. Rumor has it the name of this episode is “The Rightful Queen”. That’s not backed up with evidence at all but it would make sense if Jon names Dany the rightful Queen. Dany may insist Jon is the heir if he’s Rhaegar’s son - this is the only thing I can imagine them fighting about, Dany pushing Jon to embrace his heritage, Jon either being really confused or telling Dany he doesn’t want anyone else to know about this.

Next we get some shots of the Winterfell courtyard and though these scenes had these flipped in order in the preview, I think we get this shot of Jon first:

Jon looking toward the gate because one blast sounds, announcing Tormund and the Night’s Watch‘s arrival. And then we get this scene next:

Where Tormund tells Jon how much time they have:

“How long do we have?” “Before the sun comes up tomorrow.”

I find Tormund’s words strange. “Before the sun comes up tomorrow.” Uhh...so when exactly will the AOTD arrive? Later that night before the sun comes up? Will they arrive the next morning? We know the battle is a night battle so if the AOTD arrive in the morning, does that mean they just stand there until it turns dark and then they attack the castle?? I’m seriously so confused.

But regardless, after Tormund arrives, Winterfell has one day to prepare for the battle. I think the dead will arrive later that night because Jon is wearing the same thing he wears in the clips we’ve seen from the season trailer of the battle. So it makes sense Jon wouldn’t have time to change into that blue boiled leather outfit.

We get the above brief clip of Jon, Ed, and Sam, the three original remaining Night’s Watchmen. This is when Jon and Sam will have their exchange, “Think back to where we started,” “Now it’s just us.” It’s just those three left, they are the watchers on the Wall. It looks like the AOTD is possibly in the background. Or maybe that’s just trees. Who knows.

And the trailer ends with a shot of Tyrion on the battlements of Winterfell in a shot that is incredibly reminiscent of when he was on the battlements of King’s Landing before the Battle of Blackwater back in Season 2.

I’m thinking this is where the episode will end or it will end when the dead start to march on the castle.

Some thoughts/predictions I have about the episode that were not shown in the trailer:

Dany’s pregnancy. We could get hints of this this episode but likely, it won’t be revealed until after the battle. Dany will be injured, Wolkan or someone else will tend to her wounds and realize it and tell her or Jon or both.

Arya/Gendry. In the preview, we did hear Arya’s speech about how the God of death has many faces - I think she’s talking to Gendry as he gives her the spear he made for her. I have a weird feeling that Bran told Arya she would need a dragonglass spear otherwise, why would she need one? And getting super tinfoily, this could be what Arya uses to defeat the Night King (because I have a feeling it will be Arya who lands the fatal blow to him). Aside from the spear, I really think we will get an Arya/Gendry kiss in this episode, I’m praying for a sex scene or at least, an implied sex scene.

We should get our first Arya/Dany scene in this episode because they haven’t shared a real scene together yet. Who knows what they’ll talk about, Jon likely and all the brooding he’s been doing. Neither of them will know what’s wrong with him and if Dany does, she wouldn’t tell Arya as per Jon’s wishes.

More Davos bringing up wedding stuff and more Tyrion trying to ignore it. Bonus if Sansa is there and Tyrion’s aversion to a Jon/Dany wedding makes Sansa even more suspicious of him, because why would he be opposed to such an idea?

Gilly, hopefully, and Ghost. Bonus if they’re shown together (as we’ve seen Ghost protect Gilly before). Extra bonus if this is when Dany meets them both for the first time.

I’d love some private Jaime/Dany talk or Jaime/Jon talk but we likely won’t get it. My fingers are crossed though.

Definitely Jaime/Brienne. Bonus if we get jealous Jaime once Tormund shows up and won’t stop eye-fucking Brienne. Extra bonus if the Hound sees all of this and tells Jaime something like, if he wants Brienne, he better claim her now or else Tormund will.

Probably Bran/Dany, him telling her everything she’s done has brought her home. I’m really hoping for this. Fingers crossed!

Maybe Sam/Dany with her trying to explain why she did what she did and Sam not being open to listening to her. Probably Sam/Gilly though with Gilly trying to talk some sense into Sam because we all know how Gilly felt about Randyll Tarly.

Possibly more Night King symbol stuff. As Beric said, he’s sending a message, we just don’t know what that message is yet.

Let me know what you guys think!

[stormquill]

One Equal Temper | chapter two [V/Reader]

As hell itself wreaks havoc upon your city, an angel lands on your doorstep—one who doesn’t seem to realize he has wings.

Author’s Notes: Follow the blog @one-equal-temper.

Notes: I told myself this was going to be a fun, light series. I told myself I would do some basic setup work and go on to write the fluff/smut I wanted to write from the beginning. I told myself I wasn’t going to get existential. I have failed on all accounts by chapter fucking two.

Your headache had never really gone away.

Since the moment you awoke alone in the hospital, the ringing within your skull only ever seemed to ebb and flow in tides. On good days, the ache would retreat to a dull buzzing behind your eyes—an annoying, albeit tolerable inconvenience.

But today was not a good day.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been lying here, spread-eagle on the floor beside your open balcony. When your eyes were open, pain blurred the edges of your vision; when you closed them, sparks flashed behind your eyelids in time with every aching throb. Having already exhausted your stock of pain medication, you had little energy to move, let alone hunt around neighboring apartments searching for more.

You were lying perpendicular to the balcony’s sliding door, angled so that your view of the outside was upside-down. The hardwood floor was cool against your skin, the morning breeze soft and welcoming. You watched through narrowed eyes as your flowers swayed in the wind, their freshly-misted petals glinting in the cloudy sunlight. They were holding up well, all things considered—they were weaker than you would’ve liked, but they were surviving. Existing.

That was the best you could do, for now.

With great effort, you sat up to grab a small bag of chips from your scattered piles of scavenged supplies. You probably shouldn’t have been eating these, sick as as you were, but junk food would help you feel better in all the ways Ibuprofen could not.

You lied back down on the floor, and as the upside-down vision of the outside returned to view, you realized a familiar feathered form had appeared on the flat of your balcony.

“Still alive, gravedigger? You’re more stubborn than I thought.”

“Oh, hey,” you brightened up. “You again.”

“In the flesh!” he said, puffing up. “Miss me?”

“Like a pebble in my shoe.” You popped open the bag of chips on your chest. Several spilled onto your shirt. Your life was an abyss. “Not dead yet, sorry to disappoint. Come back in a few hours, you have full permission to chow down on my rotting corpse then.”

You had no idea a bird could look so offended.

“Do I look like some kinda vulture to you?” he snapped. “Rather starve than resort to eating your nasty ass, thanks. I happen to have a very refined palette.”

(He was definitely eyeing your chips.)

“Don’t you have anything better to do than come up here and pick on me?” you asked, possessively hugging the snack to yourself.

The way you closed the bag on him seemed to ruffle his feathers. “Don’t flatter yourself, treefucker. Wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t V askin’.”

“...you know V?”

“Did he not tell you about me? Figures.”

Though he was clearly trying to shrug it off, the smallest hint of disappointment tainted his voice.

All at once, you felt terrible.

You reached into the crumpled bag on your chest. Stretching an arm out above you, you held out a single, nacho-cheese-flavoured olive branch, and you told him your name. “What’s yours?”

The demon’s beady golden eyes glanced at you, then at the chip. Wary, he waddled forward a few steps to approach your outstretched arm. You found his caution hilarious, as he was the one with the serrated, razor-sharp beak that could tear your arm clean off in half a moment’s notice; dangerous as it was to have your fingers anywhere near the demonic bird’s mouth, he took the snack from you with a mindful gentleness that was damn near adorable.

“Name’s Griffon,” he mumbled, holding the chip between his beak. “I’m one of V’s familiars.”

“The most handsome one, I’m sure.”

“You’re goddamn right.”

You continued feeding him for a while, offering one chip at a time. Griffon really was a gorgeous bird, in a terrifying, haunting sort of way, like a cryptid from some forest folktale told to frighten children. A ‘familiar,’ he’d called himself. Like the kind witches had. At this point, your theories regarding V’s identity had ranged from vampire to angel to warlock—and after the taste of supernatural phenomenon you had thus far, you no longer wrote anything off as impossible. Had V sent Griffon to see you the first time, too? Why send him again, several days later?

“Y’know, gravedigger,” Griffon said, mouth half-full, “maybe I had you pegged all wrong.”

You sneered. “Food changed your tune pretty quick.”

“Not as fast as yours did when you found out I knew V.”

Your surprise must’ve been obvious—he responded with a sinister chuckle filled with too much mirth for comfort.

“Oh sure, I know all about that awkward fiasco. Sharin’ your tragic backstory, makin’ goo-goo eyes at him over your little tea party. ‘Will you read to me?’ Eugh. Like Shakespeare needs any more enabling.”

You were mortified. Where could Griffon have possibly been hiding at the time? Had he overheard everything? And what of the impression you made? Had you really been so transparent, egregiously outing yourself as some sad, lonely weirdo desperate for human contact? Just because it was true didn’t mean you had to be so obvious about it.

Ignoring your reaction completely, Griffon approached the bag you let slide off to the side of you. “I mean, don‘t get me wrong, he’s a good kid—but what you see in him, I do not know. Maybe all that pollen’s finally gone to your head.” He nudged through the bag’s contents with his beak. “Anyway, V ain’t the brightest bulb in the toolshed when it comes to this kind of stuff, so I spelled it out for him, nice and clear. You’re welcome.”

“...what did you say?”

“That you’ve got the hots for him, what else?”

That’s what you were afraid of.

“This is ridiculous,” you said, unsure of who you were trying to convince. “We’ve had one conversation. He wouldn’t give a shit what I think, he’s got more important things to deal with.”

“Then why the hell’s he been standing outside your door for the past ten minutes like he’s forgotten how to knock?”

Paling, you bolted upright. “Why didn’t you open with that??”

Griffon had his head fully in the bag, now. “Just wanted to watch you panic!”

The mental image of V standing nervously outside, so reluctant to bother you he sent Griffon up first, made your heart race in way that only worsened the painful pulsing in your head.

As you scrambled to your feet and approached the door, you became hyper-aware of the sleep in your eyes, the chip dust on your shirt, and the general dishevelment of your entire being. You tried to get your act together as quickly as you could without a mirror—patting off your shirt, adjusting your floor-flattened hair—all while trying to suppress your headache through sheer power of will.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.

The dark-haired stranger had indeed returned to your doorstep. The soft shadows around his eyes made him look slightly more tired than before, but he didn’t look like he was anxious to knock, and certainly not like he was any the wiser of your heart’s premature betrayal. As you stood there before him, flushed and flustered for no apparent reason, the most obvious questions sprang to the forefront of your worry: did V not know, after all?

Had Griffon made all that stuff up just to mess with you?

As if on cue, you heard a nasty little cackle from behind you.

To think you shared Doritos with him.

The treason.

You tried to keep your tone nonchalant. “Good morning.”

“Salutations,” V said, because of course he was someone who still used that word. “Glad to have caught you at home.”

The blatant sarcasm put a smile on your face. “You know, I was just about to head out.”

“Ah, a pressing engagement? Shall I try again later?”

“No need, I should be able to reschedule.”

A slow smirk graced his lips at your banter, doing nothing to ease your still-quickening heart. You felt an unexpected, overwhelming sense of gratitude towards Griffon, of all creatures, for having known of your inclinations but choosing to keep his mouth shut. You didn’t want V to think differently of you.

You didn’t want to scare him away.

V shifted his weight, leaning more heavily on his cane. “I was hoping you would grant me the opportunity of repaying you for your hospitality, the other day.”

You laughed, going a little red around the ears. “You don‘t have to, it was just a cup of tea.”

“A cup more than I had prior, nonetheless.” He stepped aside and gestured beside himself, making room for you through the doorway. “Will you walk with me?”

“What—you mean like, outside?” The thought alone made you take a step backwards into your apartment—your safe, well-stocked, demon-free-except-for-the-one-bird apartment. “Yeah, no, I—I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“The surrounding area is safe, for now.”

Griffon swooped over your shoulder and into the hallway. “Oh, yeah. We made sure of that.”

As V walked away, he shrugged his head, motioning for you to follow. “Come.”

The instant rise of panic was at odds with the sudden urge to follow his lead. Had you heard them correctly? Had they killed a bunch of demons together for the express purpose of walking with you? Was this some kind of trap—trying to get you to a secondary location, maybe? But if they wanted you dead, why go through all this trouble? Were they just being nice? To what end?

You swallowed, hard.

Only one way to find out.

-

As you had barricaded the main entrance to the apartment building, the fire escape was the only way in or out.

From the moment you stepped foot onto the winding steel staircase, your internal switch flipped back into frantic survival mode, a behaviour you hadn’t adopted since the night you escaped the hospital. You made as little noise as possible. You checked your corners before rounding them. You kept your eyes and ears strained for signs of movement in your peripheral, almost too afraid to blink in case you missed something.

V seemed to pay your high alert frustratingly little mind; leading with his cane, he strolled at a leisurely pace without a single care in the world, as Griffon kept watch from overhead. At one point, Griffon snuck up and scared the shit out of you, cackling madly and gliding away when you weren’t fast enough to smack him in retaliation.

You stayed close to V at first, following his flat-sandaled footsteps through crushed streets of rubble and exposed wires. However, as several minutes passed and the complete absence of enemies allowed your mounting caution to ease, V noticed you straying further from him.

He watched with careful interest as you processed the wreckage of your new reality.

Gradually, your attention shifted from your own frenzied survival to the extent of the damage done to the city, taking in the scale of chaos you hadn’t yet seen beneath daylight. These were places you knew well, streets you crossed every day, rendered unrecognizable by the carnage of recent events. He watched you drift through broken alleyways like sections of a museum, from the frantic graffiti of the now-dead to the hollow, blood-drained shells of the civilians left behind, as you maintained a silent reverence for the destruction all the while.

You spotted a crowbar sitting on cracked cement, beneath the broken window of a shop you’d passed by often but never had the chance to visit.

“Where are we going, anyway?” you finally asked, crouching down to pick up the length of metal.

“You tell me.”

You weren’t sure when you’d taken the lead on this excursion, but V had given it to you, willingly, curious to see where your legs would take you without you knowing.

A glance across the street made your blood run cold.

The nearest landmark was a single-story brick building, half-collapsed and lifeless, a large section on the far end somehow still on fire. Colourful drawings lined what was little was left of the tall windows. Papers and textbooks layed scattered and singed around the grounds. Though the field was slightly uneven, the playground out front was surprisingly intact.

Noticing you’d stopped and stared, Griffon flew down and hovered next to you. “Little old for fingerpainting, ain’t you?”

“Quiet, you,” you mumbled, and you headed for the swings.

As you took a seat, Griffon landed on the support pole above you, his talons sounding heavy as they clasped around the metal bar. You hadn’t expected V to claim the swing next to you; he leaned on his cane for support as he sat down, retrieving his book from his coat and reading from it in silence. You were side-by-side on the swingset in the middle of a half-ruined field, facing the flaming wreckage of an elementary school in all of its still-blazing glory.

And it was peaceful, somehow.

“Are you feeling better?” V asked, not looking up from his book.

“I am, yeah.” You didn’t bother questioning how he knew you’d been ill. “Do I look that bad?”

“No, but I cannot imagine forced isolation does one’s health any favours.”

“I think I just needed some fresh air.”

Griffon scoffed from above. “Fresh air ain‘t gonna cure what you got.”

Embarrassed, you thought he was taunting you, making a sly reference to what he knew, but you noticed V’s expression had gone rather stern.

“A moment of privacy, if you would be so kind.”

With those words, V raised his arm and withdrew Griffon, dematerializing the bird into a cloud of black particles; the vapour then redrew itself onto patches of his skin you hadn’t realized were barren, with the demon’s swirling sigils camouflaging effortlessly within the rest of his tattoos.

You didn’t even bother trying to look away. “Woah. Just when I thought I had some part of you figured out.”

He smirked, returning to his reading. “You are in no danger of that, I assure you.”

Tearing your eyes from him, you prodded the rocks beneath you with your newfound crowbar, rocking gently back and forth in your swing. Every moment you spent with him seemed to raise more questions than answers. Who was this guy? And why was he here, with you? From what you gathered from his demeanor, you knew he wouldn’t be inclined to answer any prying questions from a complete stranger he’d met all of twice. Besides, he hadn’t asked you anything too personal yet, either—who were you not to extend him the same courtesy?

You enjoyed his company, even if most of him was a mystery.

“How goes the demon-exterminating?” you asked, trying to make conversation with what little you knew of him.

“I have been gathering as much information as I can about the current plague,” he said. “Extermination is endgame, but we are still far from finding permanent resolution.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

The question seemed to amuse him, more than anything.

He was just about sure what to make of you.

Since the attack, V had spent the majority of his time assisting with citizen evacuations and military efforts, as futile as the latter continued proving to be. And here you were, one of the final living civilians in Red Grave, a human who escaped a hospital and traversed a demon-infested city to barricade themselves in their apartment and live on stolen rations, asking if they could help with his quest. The past two weeks had given him much experience dealing with humans in terror, humans in grief, humans who believed being bold and trigger-happy was enough to keep them alive, but he hadn’t yet met anyone quite like you—someone so desperate to survive, yet so indifferent to the prospect of their own demise.

He chose his words carefully, keeping his eyes to his book as he spoke. “You have no intention of leaving this city, do you?”

Your initial silence spoke volumes.

“Can’t,” you settled on, finally. “I’ve got a garden to tend to.”

“Those flowers must be very important to you.”

“They’re all I have left.”

He did not pry further.

Your passive suicidality already confirmed his suspicions. You only fought to survive because you wanted to die on your own terms. It was something he recognized quite clearly.

It was something he saw in himself.

Even though it was barely noon, you already felt like the day had gone on for far too long. You weren’t sure what you were expecting from this walk, but you certainly hadn’t expected V to read you so goddamn clearly, outlining your existential crisis while you didn’t even know if he had a last name. What you wouldn’t give right now for one minute without a headache. One shower with heated water. One good meal that didn’t come out of a can.

“God, I miss french fries,” you said.

That seemed to get his attention. “Pardon?”

“French fries,” you repeated. “I would kill for some french fries right now. What’s your favourite food?”

(Did he even need to eat?)

“...I must admit, no one has ever asked me that before.”

“...you don’t really talk to a lot of people, do you?”

“Not if I can help it, no.” V considered your initial question, even taking a moment to look up from his book and focus on some indeterminate point in the sky, like he was recalling something long-forgotten. “Chocolate, I suppose.”

“Chocolate?”

“Yes.” He returned to his reading and flipped the page—his expression was somber, as if the memory he’d uncovered was bittersweet. “I remember quarreling over it, as a boy.”

Though you figured you should’ve known better than to assume anything about him, you didn’t expect him to have a sweet tooth. You tried not to think about just how adorable him liking chocolate was. You failed.

“Is there anything else you miss about your old world? Other than food?” he added with a smirk.

‘Your old world,’ he’d said. Such detached phrasing. As if he hadn’t been a part of it.

“Of course,” you replied. “They’re...not the things I thought I’d miss, though. Everything before the accident—everything I stressed over and worried about, every day of my life—it’s all so meaningless, now. I’m not thinking about my job, or my debt, or my future. It’s all the little things I’ll miss the most.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, your hands tightening around the chains of your swing. You suddenly felt sheepish. “Late-night trips to the corner store? Hanging out with my neighbor’s cat. I miss listening to music. I miss how the rain used to be. It used to make me feel happy, excited for the start of a new day—now whenever it rains, it feels...dangerous. Like it’s hiding something.”

“Some things are not shown proper recognition until they are gone,” he said. “Having such experiences to miss in the first place is something worth cherishing.”

Your brow furrowed—he was using weird, abstract language again, like he had nothing tying him to this world. “There must be something you miss, too.”

Closing the book in his lap, he nodded, wearing the same forlorn look as before. “I used to play the violin.”

“Really?”

His dark green eyes drifting shut, V straightened his back and positioned his arms just so; he tilted his head onto an unseen rest, fingers poised around a non-existent bow and ghosting over invisible strings. You could tell it was a resting position he was intimately familiar with, his form and posture practiced and precise, and the ease with which he transitioned into the stance was mesmerizing.

“I would study the same piece for hours, days on end, until I was confident enough to perform it for others,” he whispered. “It was something I was good at. Something that was mine.”

Getting a glance into something so important to him made your heart swell beneath your chest.

“Sounds wonderful,” you said, trying not to make yourself so damn obvious. “I’d give up french fries to hear you play.”

The sentiment put a smile on his face as he eased his posture. “My past is not a destination I seek to visit often, but speaking with you appears to have brought back memories from...better times.”

“...is that good?”

He turned to look at you fully, now; the crowbar still in your hand, the hospital band still on your wrist, the gentle expression of genuine concern no one had cast his way, before now.

‘The little things,’ as you called it.

“I daresay it is.”

-

By the time you were escorted back to your building, early afternoon had arrived. Griffon was back out on surveillance, gliding around closeby. You and V were walking side-by-side now, contrary to your less-than-fearless formation from when you first set out.

The fresh air had done you good, as your chronic headache had graciously retreated to its mild, manageable buzzing within your skull. You were still carrying your fancy new-but-slightly-used crowbar; you’d been dragging it across random surfaces the entire way home, as you would a very large stick.

“Thanks again for walking with me, you two,” you smiled. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

Griffon hovered by your head. “I didn’t have much of a choice, but you’re welcome.”

“Do not attempt to repeat this on your own,�� V warned. “Some demons have been known to respawn from time to time. I expect they will continue to do so until we destroy the source.”

You held your hands up, placating. “Trust me, I’m not going anywhere. You let me know if any of your friends aren’t pulling their weight, though. I’ve got a weapon, now—I can take their places, easy.”

He eyed your crowbar with a sarcastic little smile. “I may take you up on that offer. My allies are not in town for another fortnight.”

“So you are here by yourselves.” When he mentioned his allies before, you assumed they had already set up some kind of camp or headquarters in the city, somewhere. “Wait, so where have you been sleeping?”

“When night comes, I‘ll go, to places fit for woe; walking along the darkened valley, with silent melancholy.”

Griffon made an exasperated noise. “Translation: wherever’s horizontal and not covered in blood.”

“Why don’t you stay with me, then?” You paused for a moment and shook your head. “Not with me with me, but my entire building is full of empty bedrooms. Electricity’s out, but all the water still works—you could shower and wash your clothes and everything.”

“Holy fuck, score!” (It was the first time you ever heard Griffon sound so pleased.) “Finally, some proper compensation for all the shit we do. A dead human ain’t gonna miss their condo. C’mon, V, whaddya say?”

“...I’ll consider it.”

You weren’t sure who was more surprised by his answer, you or the bird.

“Are you kidding me??” Griffon snapped. “Free room and board and that’s all you gotta say?? I can’t even remember the last time I saw you drink water! When have we ever found a place with a friggin’ blanket, for crying out loud?!”

Seemingly accustomed to Griffon’s outbursts, V was already walking off in the other direction, twirling his cane in his hand. “Come, now. We’ve work to do.”

You watched the two of them take their leave, the echoed sounds of Griffon’s loud complaining following them all the way down the block.

You climbed back up the fire escape, now on a mission.

The crowbar would come in handy sooner than you thought.

-

Someone was bound to have one.

Twelve hours of searching. Twenty-nine forcibly-opened locks. Thirty-seven abandoned apartments turned inside-out.

By sheer chance, you found what you were looking for.

You leave it outside your front door, in case he returned sometime during the night.

-

You awaken in the early morning to the sound of a nearby melody.

Anticipation yanked you from the confines of your bed like Christmas morning excitement. Still half-asleep, still half-hugging your pillow, you rushed out from your bedroom to make sure you weren’t just hallucinating the music; not wanting to alert him of your presence, you pressed your back to the wall nearest your balcony, sliding to sit on the floor.

The violin sounded beautiful in his hands.

Music spilled in from the balcony next door, the notes crisp and prolonged; he was practicing what sounded like a set of advanced scales, sequential in tone, but embellished enough to form a simple melody.

“Soundin’ a little flat there, Shakespeare.”

“It may require further tuning.”

Sitting with your back to the wall, you hugged your pillow and smiled.

Out of all the rooms in the building, he’d chosen the one next to yours.

[boarix]

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part XVII

Personality Conflict

Trigger warnings: Canon language/violence/gun, drug and alcohol use. Drug addiction/intervention.

Game spoilers

Please enjoy!

 “I should have known better when you wouldn’t charge me for your services. After all, you get what you pay for.”

“Our services are for Atom’s benefit, Sister Marie. Not yours.”

She folded her arms and glared at the ghoul, “You wouldn’t have even known of Wraith’s existence were it not for me! I would say the destruction of a false profit and her network of infidels is to Atom’s…”

Infamy’s high, psychotic laughter cut her short, “You have strayed from Atom’s path and you lust for her ruin for your own satisfaction, yes? He he he!”

“SHE IS AN ENEMY OF ALL OF ATOMS CHILDREN!” She spat her words and threw her arms wide, “I have given you all the information you should have needed! I see no results.”

“No?” The glowing one moved uncomfortably close to look directly into her eyes, “Then you are blind. We have seen her people scurry and scramble in desperate confusion; like mole rats when their queen’s gone rabid. We struck low one of her most powerful fighters. We have better information now. We know how her network functions. How quickly they come to each other’s aid and the total weight of her fist.” Looking self-satisfied they leaned away and ran their eyes from her toes to her crown, “We’ve a clear picture of you as well; still wandering The Fog, looking for visions with eyes firmly shut…”

Fury colored her face scarlet, “You… how DARE YOU!”

They turned their back to her and walked away, unconcerned for her wrath, “We do not see Atom’s Plan lay before us like a smoothly-paved road, but we will walk the trail that’s there for those who dare to look for it.”

   “Looking rough, man. You sick?”

“Say something?” MacCready’s mumbled query took form around an enormous yawn. He had been taking the third watch so that he could have dinner with his son and put him to bed, get him up and have breakfast, have playtime, have lunch and then put him down for nap. Shaun, Marcy or Carol Peabody would watch Duncan in the afternoon so Mac could either teach lessons or attended to various projects. Ultimately he was getting precious few hours of sleep and despite his youth, his fatigue was starting to show. Happy to see the sun rise, he was fantasizing about grabbing a nap before his child woke up, and fought the urge to pretend he didn’t hear the other man.

“I said you look like shit.” Lloyd smiled blithely, “Your beard is out of control and your bags are so big, your eyes look pregnant. Don’t sleep well when the General or Mayor ain’t here to snuggle you? Cause the lack of beauty rest is glaring.”

“Well, we all can’t be as beautiful as you, Mr. Lloyd.”

“Mr. Garvey, actually.”

“Garvey? Like Preston Garvey?”

“I knew it! Fucker! Don’t even know my last name… Bossy owes me twenty caps.” He made a great show of turning his back to MacCready while flourishing his binoculars, “Just cause you all use your last names like they’re titles…”

“Wait, wait, wait… you’re related to Preston? How… how, did I not know that?!”

“I’m his older cousin… or maybe once removed on his mother’s side… I’m his aunt’s kid with her second husband, but she kept the last name and ditched… you know what? Doesn’t matter. Point is, I am Lieutenant Lloyd Harvest Jeremiah Garvey and you can take that to the bank!”

MacCready tried to look as unimpressed as possible, “Since when are you a Lieutenant? Wraith handing out pity promotions again?”

“Fuck you too!” His laugher softened his harsh words, “No, she recognizes my impeccable aim and stalwart reliability.” Humor fled from his face, “I would fall on a grenade for her, although I know she’d never ask me too.”

“Naw, she eats ‘em for breakfast.”

“Ha, true! She’s the most bad-assed… you don’t need me telling you the kind of loyalty she inspires!”

“Actually, have you heard anything from any of the ghoul Minutemen?” MacCready felt bad for even asking, “This whole Infamy sh… fiasco has me paranoid.”

There had been reports of missing settlers as well as feral ghoul horde attacks on provisioner caravans. The frequency and precision seemed to indicate there was an insider informant. Wraith had been on the road with Preston and Dogmeat for the better part of a month and with Hancock back in Goodneighbor, MacCready’s irritation and loneliness had reached its peak. He just wanted it to be over.

“I know everybody and if they aren’t ready to die for her cause they love her, than they are too terrified of her to even try stabbing her in the back.”

He stuck out his lower lip, “Their scared of her? I don’t think half of them have ever even seen her fight. She’s not really frightening when she’s just… walkin’ around, is she?”

“Oh man… wait, wait, hold up! You’re askin’ me to tell you about your lady?” Lloyd shook his head violently enough his neck made popping sounds, “No, no you’re asking me to talk about my General? Cause all you’re getting from me is ‘she’s great’ and ‘fuck you sideways’.”

MacCready blew an exceptionally loud raspberry.

“I see you tryin’ to get me fired, man. I thought we were close.”

Turning his back with finality, MacCready waved over his head as he went down the stairs, “I’m close enough to smell you. I’ll see you in a few hours. Do me a favor and have a really boring day, okay?”

“You got it, MacBeardy. Why don’t you go trim that shit? Looking like that, it’s a wonder anybody wants to kiss you.”

Too tired to fight back, he was grateful for gravity’s help down the stairs. Once his feet were back on the ground he stopped to let his eyes adjust to the dim light before sweeping them along the street and in-between the nearest homes.

Yawning aggressively, he clicked his teeth, “…really should have a patrol going inside the walls too… don’t know who might be creepin’ around…”

As if on cue, a small, shadowy figure left the clinic and made its way toward Wraith’s house.

Tiredness forgotten, MacCready raised his rifle, “HEY! STOP RIGHT THERE!”

“Don’t shoot! It’s me!” Shaun all but fell to the ground, “I’m sorry!”

“Did you spend the night in the clinic?!” Torn between sympathy and anger, he opened and shut his mouth wordlessly; fighting with his impulse to tear into the child.

“I’m sorry! Yes, but…”

“Shaun, I… understand that you’re worried about Danse, but I… I trust you to help me with Duncan…”

“I know! That’s why…”

“DON’T INTTERUPT ME, MAN!” Instantly regretting raising his voice, he took a deep breath, “He shouldn’t be in the house by himself.”

Shaun squared his shoulders and set his jaw. Thrusting his right hand into the air, his voice was filled with righteous indignation as he shook an item at the heavens, “BABY MONITOR!”

“WELL, I DIDN’T KNOW THAT AND I’M SORRY! DID YOU MAKE THAT YOURSELF?!”

“NO! I JUST FIXED IT AND BOOSTED ITS RANGE!”

“WOW THAT’S REALLY COOL!”

“OKAY, BUT WHY ARE WE STILL YELLING?!”

“I DON’T KNOW YOU STARTED IT!”

“NOOOOOOO WAY, RJ!”

A settler opened a nearby window and stuck her head out, “Boys, it is too early in the morning for you to be yelling like that!”

Laughing now, Shaun apologized while the other flipped her off by pretending to itch his eye. MacCready patted the kid’s shoulder as they crossed the yard to their door. Just as he touched the doorknob, Lloyd’s voice crackled over the walkie-talkie.

“MacCready, I got a new face at the gate.”

He ushered Shaun through the door and walked back to the street before responding, “I thought we agreed you were going to have a boring day. Besides, there are Minutemen at the gate checking on newbies. What’s the big deal?”

“He’s a big deal; six feet plus. Dark hair and light eyes… looks like you and Capt’n Danse had a baby… oh, shit. Sorry, man. That was a stupid…”

“It’s fine…” MacCready pinched the bridge of his nose, “That could literally be anybody…”

“He’s probably not Infamy, right? They’re all ghouls?”

“I don’t think we know who they all are...” He really just wanted to go and sleep for two seconds, “Lloyd, I am really tired…”

“MacCready, I know everybody, remember? I don’t know this guy!”

A chill ran down his back and the hairs on his nape stood up. He jogged down the street toward the gate, “Where are they exactly?”

“He’s standing behind Carla’s brahmin… hold on… shit!”

“Lloyd?!”

“I lost him! I’m going to the open channel!”

Swallowing hard and fighting the urge to sprint to the gate, MacCready turned back toward the house he shared with his new family. It was obvious that Shaun would be a primary target to anyone looking to damage Wraith. Switching his walkie to the open channel, he listened to the Minutemen as they searched for this mysterious stranger.

I’ll take the boys through the river to the Rocket. Ain’t no way Strong will let anything happen to his little brothers. Then I’ll go hunt this bastard down.

“Robert Joseph MacCready?”

The disembodied voice came from a shadow just to his right. Preoccupied with the safety of the children; he cursed himself internally for allowing the threat to get so close.

His rifle seemed to materialize in his hands as he spun away. As fast as he was, it was a surprise when his intended target had already breached his circle of defense; placing a hand on the weapon and forcing it skyward. An immediate tug of war began as both men tried to secure the gun.

Despite the difference in overall size, MacCready was well able to hold his own. In a last-ditch effort to dislodge his large foe, he deliberately fell backward, hooking a boot into his opponent’s midsection and flipping them over his head. Vaulting to his feet he quickly turned, once again making an attempt to pin the other man with the barrel of his gun.

The enemy activated a Stealth-boy and vanished before his eyes.

   Croup Manor was all but lost. The horde of ferals, shepherd by Infamy, washed over the settlement like a tidal wave. Wraith, Dogmeat, Preston and their small troop of Minutemen were hard pressed waiting for Dragoon reinforcements.

“WRAITH!” Knocked to the ground by an enormous bloated glowing one, Preston’s cry reverberated through the ruins.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” She had gathered what soldiers she could find in an attempt to preserve what was left of their group, and had guided them to the platform that surrounded the remains of the roundabout’s fountain, “Keep the high ground! Dogmeat stay here.” Wraith popped a Buffout and leaped into the mass of gyrating ghouls. Keeping her weapons holstered, she punched, ducked and dodged as she tried her best to not get hung up with one opponent for any longer than it was necessary to move them out of her way.

Out of her peripheral, she could see that the one feral that had turned friendly was pacing her. They had a tattered, red-plaid shirt and like her seemed to be heading toward Preston’s voice.

That’s lucky!

The ally feral reached Preston first and threw itself bodily at the bloated ghoul. The green-glowing monster seemed taken aback and the look of betrayal on its twisted face was almost comical. Recovering quickly, it back-handed its smaller, plaid-clad attacker, sending it flying.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Wraith hefted Preston into a fireman’s carry and zigzagged her way back to the rally point.

“Preston, are you alive?”

“Uhhhhh.”

“Oh, good.” She laid him down gently, “Medic, I need RadAway right away! Ha-ha!” She patted Preston on the shoulder, “Hang in there Colonel.” Turning away she adopted her General’s voice and addressed her frightened soldiers, “The Calvary will be here very soon! They know I’ve an appointment in Diamond city, and I cannot be late! Stay calm and pick you’re targets. Aim for the legs! And don’t hit me or I’ll be extremely vexed!” So saying she unsheathed her Shem Drowne sword and unholstered her revolver, and took a swan dive right back into the sea of feral ghouls.

  “Philippa Lynn Keita-Johnson, kindly get off of my case!”

“Val…”

“I am fine. I am recovered. I am well.”

“I know you say that but…”

“I am… I need backup…” Turning his head slightly, Nick Valentine called over his shoulder, “Ellie, please tell Wraith to leave me be!”

Laughing, Mrs. Valentine came into the living room brandishing a file folder, “I will do no such thing! You tell me I should take it easy, well, same goes for you. It hasn’t been that long since you were moo-lightening as squirrel-on-a-stick… what’s so funny, Wraith?”

Giggling, she made the mistake of making eye-contact with Valentine and then fell to laughing so hard she stopped making any sounds at all.

He smiled indulgently at his wife, “I think you meant ‘moonlighting’, my dear.”

“Oh… Wraith… Honey, you must be really tired; it wasn’t that funny.”

“Mooooo! Hahahaha!”

“At any rate; I am more than well enough to go with you to Sanctuary,” Valentine was becoming increasingly irritated at being handled like glass, “and for anything else, for that matter. I will not miss this just because of a minor intestinal perforation!”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“For the last time, my guts are one hundred percent fully healed and operational.”

“Prove it.”

“Alas, to my great shame, I cannot break wind on cue.”

   “ALLY, ALLY, ALLY! FRIENDLY!”

MacCready struck a dramatic figure; rifle at the ready and backlit by the dawn, tracking an invisible enemy by sound alone, “Show me some raised and empty hands, then we can talk about being friendly.”

“I’ve no guarantee that you won’t shoot as soon as you get a glimpse. No offence meant, but I’d prefer to remain alive.”

“Have we met? You seem vaguely familiar...”

A low whistle to his left was all the warning he got before some unknown liquid came flying through the air. Able to step out of its path, MacCready watched in confused fascination as his opponent was momentarily outlined before the Stealth-Boy compensated and they once again shimmered out of existence.

“That was motor oil and kerosene.” Shaun was outwardly calm as he flicked the sparkwheel on the lighter in his hand, “Don’t worry RJ, Duncan is with Strong…” His smile was almost pitying as he addressed the air, “I’m sure I hit you with enough to ignite. I wonder if the Stealth-Boy will hide you as you burn.”

“OKAY! Okay, I’ll show myself. Please believe me when I say that I’m a friend to Nyx Morningstar and an ally to General Wraith in her fight against Infamy.”

MacCready moved close to Shaun and whispered harshly in his ear, “Not your name.”

Phasing into view, the large man held his hands aloft, palms forward as he favored Shaun with a raised brow, “You are a terrifying young man.”

“HEY! You don’t get to talk to Peter! You talk to me. Got it?”

“Yes… MacCready. Or do you prefer RJ?”

“Might as well call me the Grim Reaper.” Stepping close, he held his weapon level with the other man’s eyes, “Name.”

“We’ve actually met…”

“If you know me then you know of my short, short fuse.” His voice was steel.

“Harkness! My name is Harkness and Nyx told me that if you give me too much trouble… to… to call you ‘Buttface’?”

Lowering his rifle, MacCready cocked his head to the side, “I do know you. Huh.”

“May I put my arms down now?”

“Nope. Keep ‘em high and walk back to the gate.” He turned to Shaun, “Squirrel, you have a sidearm?” He knew the answer, but the question was more for Harkness’ benefit.

“Uh… yeah. Yes!”

“Good. If he makes a run for it shoot his left knee. We are heading to the storage shed next to Bear’s place.” He motioned Harkness forward with his rifle, “Nice and easy. Just a lovely, morning stroll.”

As they walked, Shaun whispered out of the side of his mouth, “I thought my name was ‘Peter’.”

“Same kid.”

  Some few days later Wraith returned to Sanctuary with the Valentines in tow. Notified at the Rocket of the captured intruder, she called a meeting and had Harkness brought to her office under heavy guard. MacCready, Sofie, Lloyd and Cait arranged themselves on Wraith’s furniture and collectively glared at him.

“I would prefer to speak with you privately, if that’s alright with you, General Wraith.”

“No. That is not alright with me.” Weary and road dirty, she hoped that she at least looked impressive and authoritative, “Nyx has never mentioned a ‘Harkness’ to me, nor has she written an introductory letter on your behalf.” Arms folded she let some iron creep into her voice, “With all that has happened I think you might forgive me if I keep you under as many eyes as possible.”

“Do you have a Geiger counter?”

MacCready popped to his feet and clapped his hands before opening the door to the street, “Okay, everybody out!” He stuck his head out the door and gave a shrill whistle, “Dogmeat!” He favored Wraith with a forced smile, “His eyes are as good as anyone’s, right?”

As the grumbling group filed out, every single one of them gave the canine a pat as he trotted inside. The last to leave, MacCready gave a small cry of surprise as Panther dashed between his legs just as he was shutting the door.

Dogmeat immediately came to greet Harkness; tail wagging and tongue lolling leisurely. Taking their cue from their canine friend, Panther hopped atop Wraith’s desk and sat next to her. Whiskers extended toward the stranger, they made the chuffing sounds that were the great cat’s purr.

“I can’t believe it!” He patted the dog as best he could with bound hands, “I’m convinced, now more than ever, that you’re an immortal!”

“If he vouches for you, then I suppose I have no choice…” Unlocking his cuffs she offered him water and then flopped into her chair. There she sat, eyes trained at the ceiling and completely silent for several seconds.

“Do you have…?”

“I’m retired.”

“Hardly.” He leaned forward, left brow raised over an ice-blue eye.

“I can’t believe you are still using that pass phrase…”

“Do you have…?”

“Fucking sake! Mine’s in the motherfuckin’ shop!” She slapped her palm onto the tabletop, “I am officially retired and if you are still using that, you probably should fucking stop. MacCready never even…”

“We don’t. Harley told me it’s the one you’d recognize though.” He made note of the flash of pain that crossed her face, “He also told me that you and MacCready would give me the most hassle and that you were both, ‘monstrously terrifying’.” Giving Dogmeat another pat he matched Wraith’s glare with a smug smirk, “If he vouches for you, then I suppose I have no choice.”

“Cute. Why does the Railroad care about Infamy in Boston?”

Making a show of taking a long, slow drink, Harkness stalled; trying to find a delicate selection of words to hide the truth, “The Railroad cares deeply for all liberated synths. The loss of Danse is distressing, not just for the Minutemen and…”

Wraith rocketed to her feet and grabbed him by the collar. Easily lifting Harkness, she slammed him into the wall, “ENOUGH! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR DE… HARLEY’S LIES FROM YOU!” Letting him drop she backed away. Her voice turned terrifyingly emotionless but her eyes promised death, “I want the truth. Otherwise, I’ll go with my first instinct; consider you my enemy and rip you in half.”

He glared at her from the floor, “We have highly valued agents who could be compromised or killed if your struggle with Infamy goes to shit!”

Wraith’s expression softened, “Ah. People I know. People I’d miss if they were to suddenly relocate. People I wouldn’t stop looking for if they were to suddenly disappear.”

That was not tactful at all. I just… I almost killed him. Deacon and Morningstar sent him and I almost took him through the wall! What the hell is wrong with me?!

“May I stand, or will that get me bifurcated too?” Failing to hide his anger, he couldn’t help but take a jab at her, “I can see where Shaun gets it…”

That was a mistake.

Lost in a flash of rage, she aimed a punch at Harkness’ face.

Dogmeat saved his life: his sharp bark cut through Wraith’s wrath-filled haze and at the last second she altered her aim and slammed her fist through the wall.

Both breathing heavily, the two stared into each other’s eyes. Her regret showed clearly and a sudden revelation filled his blue orbs with understanding.

“You… you have lost so much. Father and the Institute were just the tip of the iceberg. You understand what it’s like to have your past and future manipulated by an uncaring puppet master. You know what it’s like… to not feel real…”

“I… I’m…” Slowly removing her hand, she backed away, eyes fixed on his, “I think that I can’t properly apologies to you for what just happened… but I am sorry.”

“I know you’ll find this hard to believe but I trust you more now.”

“You can’t trust…”

“…everybody. I know. I know.” He laid a hand gently over-top her blooded fist, pushing it down toward the floor, “Both Nyx and Harley are very important to me. They say you are one of the greatest allies the Railroad has ever known. So whatever just happened, let’s chalk it up to, you’re over-taxed and I’m an asshole.”

Motioning to him to take a more comfortable seat on her couch, Wraith went to her office first aid kit. Resuming her seat next to Panther, she began a deep breathing exercise while treated her injuries with a dermo-fuse.

Gotta calm. In, two, three. Calm. Out, two, three.

“So, you have all the intel on me from Harley. You know Shaun, you know… everything?”

“Actually, the dossier came from Nyx. So, I probably don’t know as much as you might fear.” Tenting his fingers, he briefly touched their tips to his lips before leaning toward her, “I would really like it if we could start over. Hello, I’m Harkness. I’m a Railroad heavy from the Capital Wasteland. I’ve known Nyx for over ten years. I was sent by our new leadership to protect our interests in the Commonwealth by offering you informational aid in your conflict with the organization known as Infamy.”

She offered him a wan smile, “Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place?

Laughing, he shook his head, “I tried. No, really! MacCready and Shaun just about turned me inside-out!”

“Do you know Mac too?”

“I only met him a couple of times. He didn’t recognize me and I hardly even recognize him; he’s way healthier looking now.”

She frowned, thinking that he actually looked a little haggard, “He eats better these days. Speaking of which, have they offered you food recently?”

“I could eat.”

Radioing Codsworth, she put in a request. Having finished repairing the lacerations on her hand, she returned the knitter to the first aid kit and once again flopped into her chair. Not sure how to begin, or if she should even start, an awkward silence hung in the air.

Harkness was watching Panther groom itself with a child-like fascination. When the cat jumped down and came over to rub on his legs his face beamed with joy. “She’s a synth, isn’t she? Incredible!”

“Technically speaking, Panther isn’t a ‘she’ or ‘he’. Although Danse…” She swallowed hard and looked at her hands in her lap.

Pretty sure my finger’s dislocated… ouch. Why am I having such a hard time? I used to be really good with people! Part of the reason I became a lawyer…

Harkness misunderstood her reaction, “I am very sorry that Danse was killed. I… met… him. He definitely wouldn’t have remembered me though.”

“How did you find out?”

“Nyx told me when she asked if I would come up here.”

“Asked, huh? Okay, how did Morningstar find out?”

A flicker of realization crossed his face, “We have a network of tourists… but you’d know that… he’s still alive, isn’t he?”

Wraith rose at Codsworth’s polite knock, “Food’s here.” She patted one of the robots eye stalks, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“No trouble at all, mum!” He made happy whistling noises as he left.

While chewing his first, enormous bite, Harkness offered a morsel to Panther. His face broadcasting his delight when the cat oh-so-delicately accepted it. His smile became that much broader when Dogmeat also partook of his charity. When Wraith cleared her throat to bring him back to their conversation his cheeks momentarily reddened with guilt.

“Ah-hem, that’s interesting. Our information has him being killed outright. A sniper shot to the head.”

“He’s in a coma and has been for some time. He’ll have another scar on his brow… when he wakes up.” Stirring her vegetables distractedly, she stared at the wall in the direction of the clinic. “I have almost no information on Infamy. Mac and Hancock told me that they were a mercenary faction of the Children of Atom and that Morningstar had some dealings with them, but that’s about it. Islode had only so much more to add.” Setting her now completely forgotten meal on her desk, she stood up and began to pace, “I need to find them. I need to wrap this up. I can’t have another war of attrition, like with the Gunners!”

“I’m not familiar enough with this area to pinpoint them for you, but they would probably take up residence in the Glowing Sea, or similar sites that would be considered holy to Atom worshippers.”

“I’m not going to send the Dragoons into the Sea to wander around aimlessly. I did send my radioactive-resistant Hound pair to get a sitrep on Quincy Quarries. There’s a empty Vault-Tec installation there…”

“And what will you do when you find them?”

That gave Wraith pause: her first response was for a very percussive, terminal encounter.

You told Islode that you weren’t a conqueror. And that the Children were your neighbors. They are being fed false information from Marie. She is the real enemy.

“I don’t suppose they’d listen to reason, would they?”

“Are you suggesting you can be reasonable?” He waved his hands and laughed at the face she made, “I’m sorry! I’m joking!”

“Lay it out for me, Harkness! I’m obviously struggling. Normally I would attempt diplomacy immediately, but they never even gave me an ultimatum. I can’t bargain with a group who wants nothing I have!”

“Sister Marie wants some things though; your status as a profit discredited. Then your happiness. And then your life.”

Bringing her right hand up she began running it back and forth across her close-cropped hair, “I never once claimed to be a profit! If they want me to stand in front of the entire Atom nation and declare myself…”

“It wouldn’t be enough for Marie, but it might be enough for Infamy,” Harkness set his plate on the floor and leaned toward her, “and she is powerless without their backing.”

“Who are they?”

“When Nyx declined to detonate the warhead at Megaton, it shattered the hopes of the Children who lived and worshipped there. Denied their ‘Day of Division’, some of the members endeavored to become closer to Atom by taking a rare chem, that would either transform them into ghouls or…”

“Or kill them.”

He nodded, “Infamy developed soon after Nyx helped the BOS destroy the Enclave. My guess is that the glowing one that acts as the leader is the former Brother Gerard, from that Megaton sect.”

“And how would I use this information to begin peace talks?”

“One of our agents has suggested that you have some small control over feral ghouls, perhaps…”

“You can just say ‘Hancock’.” She made a dismissive gesture at his attempt at mock confusion, “I suppose you stopped in Goodneighbor before you came here. He has seen that ferals will… become docile around me… occasionally. It happened in front of him again, just a short while ago, so it would be fresh in his mind.”

“He told you he was an agent.”

She dropped her shoulders and rolled her eyes, “Yes, of course. We are very much intertwined in each other’s lives. And with me being a former agent; he can trust me with sensitive information. So please, let it go.”

“Very well.” He leaned back on the couch and smiled as Panther draped its self across his lap, “What is it like? Are you able to direct the actions of these ferals?”

“Nope.”

A flicker of irritation crossed his face, “Have you tried?”

She felt her face heat, “No! I would never! They have suffered enough. I wouldn’t presume to make them my puppets.”

“If you were able to command feral ghouls, or even pull some away from Infamy’s hoard, your clout as a profit in good standing would be beyond repute.”

“You’re asking me to win them over by masquerading as one of their most important religious figures.”

“No, I’m asking you to prove to them that you are the Mother’s Favored One.”

“But, Harkness that would be lying. And as you know, falsehoods make a poor foundation on which to build peace.”

He held his hands out and looked to the ceiling, appealing to some higher power for strength, “Why are you so adamant that it’s a lie?”

Wraith sputtered and scoffed, “… I wouldn’t… I’m not, I’m… well, okay maybe I’m not normal but…”

He knew he had her on the ropes and began tallying off his bullet points on his hands, “One, you are highly resistant to radiation, much like the Children’s Gift. This combined with pre-war experimentation has turned you into what could be described as a smooth-skin ghoul. Two, you have experienced visions in which the Mother appeared and seemed to guide you. Three, you have a charming effect on feral ghouls to the point that they will come to your aid, and apparently, follow you around like puppy dogs!”

Wraith quickly crossed the room, “Okay, how the fuck… There should only be three people, aside from myself who know I’m ghoulish…” She struck her forehead with the heel of her palm, “Oh, I’m so dumb! Of course he would know. And what he knows, you do. That asshole.”

Who I miss terribly and would really like to talk to…

“I’m guessing that even though Nyx handed me your information, it might have been from Harley after all… Sorry.” Harkness at least had the decency to look abashed.

“Okay, if I were to explore this, how would I even begin?”

“I brought someone with me. His name is Sun of Atom, and he’s a glowing one who’s also a member of the Megaton sect. I left him in Goodneighbor in the off chance that I was met with… let’s say, extreme resistance, to my idea.” He gave her a mocking smile.

“So, what? This Sun is going to teach me to…”

“Fine tune your obvious ability to command feral ghouls.”

She was running her hand over her hair again, “If I hadn’t just recently fought a super villain, possessed by alien technology, who was able to manipulate objects with her mind, I’d really think this was crazy…”

Then again, all I could think of at Croup was ‘gotta help Preston’ and that plaid shirt feral went right to him…

“I can go pick up Sun and be back here…”

“Oh, no; I’m not bringing ferals here. I would never do that to MacCready. How about you meet me at Wicked Shipping in a week.”

“It won’t take me a week…”

“Okay, look, I just got back. I would like to visit with my people, my kids and my beloved, feisty boyfriend as well as be there for the Valentine’s first ultrasound, before I fuck-off again to do whoever-the-fuck-knows!”

He held up his hands, “Okay, okay. That’s fair.”

“I’ll send you with an escort.”

“No thank you. That won’t be necessary…”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“Wraith,” He held his hands out pleadingly, “I’ve already garnered way more attention than is healthy! Please just, trust in my abilities. Harley wouldn’t have sent me if he didn’t think I could get it done.”

   Wraith met with Sofie and then joined the Valentines for their ultrasound before returning to her house. She could tell MacCready had been napping as one side of his now ample beard and his hair were pressed flat to the side of his head. They held each other tightly in a hug that was almost desperate. When she felt the tears start, she buried her face into his shoulder. It had the potential to carry on through the evening, so Shaun cleared his throat and that made Duncan giggle. Doing her best to ignore the subtle protests of her pre-teen grandson, she laughed at Mac’s hair and gave her lover a huge kiss.

“I don’t know how you can stand to kiss all that hair…”

She reached out and scratched the former merc’s chin, not unlike how she would for Dogmeat, “I don’t know, Shaun; I kinda dig it.”

MacCready lifted his chin and cocked his head to the side, apparently appreciating the sensation, “Thanks, knockout.”

“Gross.”

“Daddy’s beard is not gross!” Duncan shook a finger at his adopted brother, “It’s purdy! It’s got nice red in it; jus like Miss. Cait’s nice hair. And it tickles fun.”

Scooping his son from the floor, Mac kissed his cheek and Duncan squealed with laughter. Favoring Shaun with a superior look, he batted his eyelashes at him, “See? Dunk says it’s purdy.”

“Yeah, it’s purdy gross.”

Wraith watched MacCready chase the boys around the couch, trying to allow their joy to erase all of her recent worry and grief.

 Later that evening, Shaun and Wraith were playing Go Fish while MacCready gave his son his bath. She could tell he was trying to work up the nerve to ask her something, but didn’t want to put him off by asking outright.

“Hey, grandma?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you… umm… been to the clinic?”

“I went with the Valentines today.”

“Did you talk to Danse?”

Wraith very slowly lowered her cards, “He’s awake?!”

He waved his hands, “No! No, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hear you. Dr. Curie says that coma patients respond to their loved one’s voices.” He dropped his eyes to the tabletop, “I know you haven’t been to see him. You should go talk to him. I think… you might need to.”

It was true. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to go. Something about standing at Danse’s bedside, and seeing him in that condition, reminded her too much of her one-sided conversations with Nate at the gravesite.

“I think you’re right.” She stood and came around to hug him, “I’ll go right now.”

 Wraith started to cry when Curie hugged her.

“Oh! Oh, madame! What is the matter?”

“I’m sorry…”

“Do not apologies! Please tell me how I can help you.”

Wraith sniffled and dropped into a chair, “I know I’ve never been a pillar of emotional stability, but lately… I’m as bad as I think I’ve ever been.”

“What do you mean?”

Wraith laughed humorlessly, “I can’t hug anyone without bawling all over them. I keep giggling like a drunkard over stupid crap and I almost just killed our visitor over a mild insult.”

“Buffout.”

“Wha…”

“You take it quite a bit, no?”

“I… guess…”

“It is quite unnecessary regardless.” Curie pulled her desk chair around so she could sit facing her. Reaching forward, she took Wraith’s hands in hers, “I have been meaning to speak to you on this matter for some time, but it has been difficult for me. I think you have been upping your usage lately; taking some before every possible confrontation. Of which there seems to be a never-ending supply.” She patted her hands as Wraith’s face turned red, “Monsieur Hancock has expressed his concern to you on this, oui? He came to me only because you have dismissed his warnings. You are already shockingly strong Madame, in spirit as well as muscle. It’s possible the Buffout lost its effectiveness long ago; you use it now as a habit rather than a tool.”

It was like getting slapped in the face by a deathclaw gauntlet.

I took some just before the meeting today… Hancock’s been telling me to take it easy? Damn, I don’t even remember…

“I… I think I’m going to cry some more…” She slid out of her chair and onto the floor.

“I will cry too.”

Wraith held out her arms and the two held each other for a time. When the sniffling began to subside, Curie got up to go and get them some water.

“I must apologies for my poor bedside manner; I had wanted to be much more delicate with this and possibly have messieurs Hancock and MacCready here with you.” She sat next to Wraith on the floor and offered her an Addictol inhaler as well, “You didn’t come in here to be ambushed by me. No doubt you’ve come to see mon amour, oui?”

“You’re not ambushing me, Baby Bird. I’m sorry I made you worry.” She nodded toward the ICU room, “How has he been?”

It took a while before she could answer. Her face transitioned from extreme grief to a hopeful smile and back again. “He is… alive. His heartbeat remains strong.” She suddenly stood, “I will leave you two your privacy. Monsieur Sturges has invited me to play cards to ‘get me out of the house’.”

Wraith sat on the floor for several minutes, trying to do breathing exercises, staring at the door to Danse’s room. She had wanted Curie to stay with her but couldn’t find the words to stop her from leaving. Working up the nerve to simply walk to the door and reach out for the knob, took a herculean effort.

He’s not dead, just sleeping. Not dead. He’s sleeping.

He was not sleeping.

Shockingly thin, his breath coming in shallow pants, Danse stood next to his bed, tangled in a mass of IV lines. He was covered in blood and worse from having ripped out as many of the said lines and tubes as he could reach.

He attempted to take a step toward her but stumbled and nearly fell. Holding his arms wrist-up at her, he shook them side to side before gesturing around the room, “Where is this?! Who are you! What...” Momentarily overcome by a coughing fit he lost the energy to stand and collapsed heavily onto the bed, “What happened to me?”

Wraith opened and shut her mouth like a dying fish. She felt the tears streaming down her face as well as a stab of guilt when Danse shot her a look of concern.

He’s reacting to my crying when he doesn’t even… wait…

“You don’t know me?” She grabbed a towel and some gauze, “Please stop pulling out your IVs!”

He studied her face, “You… your eyes… Please tell me…”

“Wraith. I’m Wraith. I’m your friend.” She figured she’d start small. “We have known each other for a couple of years now.”

“Are you a knight?” His voice was weak, gravely and slightly slurred.

“I was. You recruited me. Technically I was a paladin.” She rolled her eyes.

“Was? Why aren’t we in the infirmary on the Prydwen?” He moved the arm she was attempting to bandage out of her reach and attempted, without success, to stand, “Did we lose the police station? You aren’t Brotherhood?”

“No Danse…”

“Paladin Danse.”

“Actually it’s ‘captain’ now.” She wasn’t sure how far she could push it, “You are no longer with the BOS either.”

“Utter nonsense!” This time, his attempt to gain his feet landed him on his backside on the floor, “I demand you return my armor to me immediately!” Overcome yet again by a racking cough, he tried without much success to crawl under the bed.

“Stop hurting yourself!” She was starting to panic, “Look at your arms! Aren’t you feeling that?!”

There was a brief, flickering of recognition in his eyes, “Pain… is inconsequential…” He stared hard into her eyes, “It’s not real… just a damage prevention signal.”

Wraith remembered, “That’s what pain is, you fucking asshole.”

“Wraith!” He held his arms out to her like a small, scared child asking to be picked up.

Easily lifting him back onto the bed, she went to pull away but Danse’s grip around her shoulders tightened. She returned the embrace despite the mess; lying herself next to him. His body shook slightly as his memories returned and the tears fell down his cheeks.

“I’m so glad you’re awake!”

“I feel so foggy…”

“That’d be the meds. And possibly the fact you suffered acute neurotrauma due to a gunshot wound.”

“… explains the headache…”

“Look on the bright side, not many people can brag about having a cranioplasty.”

He chuckled, “Great, even more metal in my head. MacCready’s going to be insufferable.” He squeezed her tighter, his voice soft, “I can always count on you to guide me back to who I truly am. You… you are my sister, Wraith and I love you.”

“I love you too, tin can.”

Thank you so much for reading! Like what you’ve read? Looking for more? Please see my Wraith in the Ruins master link in my tags. As always, if you have any questions/comments/concerns my ask is open. Anon too! I will try to answer promptly and would love to hear from you. More to come. =^..^=

[psychicscavenger]

Sea Witch (Shance MerMay 2019)

another drabble for my series Making Waves and Turning Tides. Series was inspired by @justshance‘s Mermay prompts for 2019, written for @shancemermay and fellow shance and mermaid fans in general.

Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, some plot, conspiracy, pining, fairy tale elements, little mermaid elements, AU

After having to watch that disgusting display of emotions, Lotor sank into the depths of the abyss, welcoming the feeling of darkness as well as the increasing pressure allowing his gills to breathe in and out gently. The wonderful air flowing through and cleaning out the salty air from above surface left him feeling more relaxed but he was still on edge hoping his plan would work.

Lotor continued to swim down, the light from the surface fading away until he was swallowed up by the void, circling around him with only his senses to guide him past other mers who lingered around the abyss, usually nowhere to go with other unsavory creatures who liked to lurk in the deep. Lotor located his cave quickly, quietly slipping into the vast cavern, easily avoiding the fluttering cuttlefish his mother liked to experiment on. He cool called out a greeting towards the witch, sliding against a rock and parking himself there, unfurling his tentacles to stretch as the witch, his mother Honerva, approached.

"Lotor have you spoken with the fish noble's son?" A raspy voice called from behind the seaweed curtain. Lotor hummed, meticulously cleaning a tentacle sucker, making sure no remnants of fish scales were stuck underneath before casually replying, "Yes I have. The silly little brat took the deal and he's now off frolicking on the dry lands with the king. We'll be ruling this pathetic ocean soon Mother. That damned Queen Allura was a fool to reject me as a potential mate and to cast you from her palace with your talents! A true disgrace for a monarch in my opinion." Lotor huffed as his mother oozed from the shadows, pulling back the weeds to expose her curling tentacles floating around her as she glided over to her son.

"Just remember the plan. Once that noble gets a taste of what he wants, you'll draw him back and make him hold up his part of the deal. We need that trident if we want to take over the ocean." She spoke, every word punctuated harshly through the murky water Lotor would twitch every time she spoke.

"And what happens if he refuses or doesn't get a hold of it? Lance is divine looks wise but he's not all that brilliant upstairs." Lotor mocked snickering at the image of the mer earlier, acting all flustered and squeamish when the two humans approached him.

"That I'll leave to you dear son. Consider it a gift for helping me this far. It's taken years to find the right someone to help take down the queen but now I have high hopes that we'll be taking over not one but two kingdoms if all goes well." Honerva spoke heading over to a cavern rock that held some valuable objects to her. It was piled with bones, some mers, some regular fish. She even had a collection of shark teeth in a jar as well las several jars of glowing substances, Lotor would rather not ask what those were about.

Honerva pulled out a dusty broken mirror, so old it was rotted in the handle area, bits of algae and mold growing on the reflective portion which Honerva wiped away, repeating a few mumbled phrases unintelligible until the mirror glowed and soon Lotor was watching Lance in the mirror.

"This way we'll keep an eye on the boy, measure his progress with the humans." Honerva stated watching as Lance was currently having a battle with a few humans over the proper way to wear what the humans called pants. Lotor furrowed his brows watching the spectacle as he leaned back, crossing his arms with impatience.

"How long will this take do you think?" He asked getting annoyed upon seeing the human king enter the room and calmly remediating the situation, hands lingering upon Lance's waist with Lance flushing immediately.

"Not long, humans are easily predictable and are often like the very fish they hunt and eat. Place something shiny and new in front of them, and they'll snatch up the bait pretty easily." Honerva explained smirking upon seeing the matching blushing expressions between Lance and the human king.

"Sometimes too easily." She grinned.

                                                         ****

Lance wasn't normally materialistic, sure he was a mermaid, he hoarded a fair bit of treasure that many humans have dropped into the ocean, and he liked to keep his scales cleaner and shinier than his family or friends in the shoal, but compared to having a big, fluffy cushion all to himself, not having to share with his sisters, brothers, niece and nephew, he knew he could never go back to his old life.

"It's so big and bouncy! Beds are so cool!" He moaned, spreading his arms and legs over and over on the vast space, the long sleep shirt he was given rising up just a tad bit, exposing more and more of his upper thighs that had Shiro coughing and glancing away out of respect for his guest, and to keep himself in check.

"Yeah they are..also I just want you to know that you are welcome to stay here as long as you like even if you're finished recovering, I'm afraid to admit, but living on the far coast we don't see too many visitors." Shiro explained a small smile appearing on his face as Lance sat up tilting his head just so in that adorable curious way he's done all day.

"Do I get to use the bed still?" Lance asked which had Shiro chuckling. "Yes, you can use the bed as long as you want." Lance sighed happily flopping back over much to Shiro's amusement as Lance flipped over and snuggled into the sheets.

"Thank Goddess, I never want to leave ever again. You are my treasure now." Lance reached up patting a pillow as Shiro held back a giggle about to head out into the hall.

"If you need anything, I'm sure any of the kind people working here can attend to your needs, I'll be up as well as I'm not much of a sleeper, my rooms not too far down the hall. If you can't find someone, just come find me." Shiro stated turning to head out when Lance shot up, shouting "Wait!"

Shiro froze, unsure what was wrong until he suddenly found a sturdy presence pressing into his front side, arms wrapped around his middle and nearly hanging off of him(Lance still hadn't been able to get his legs to work properly like the humans, Shiro was currently in the process of finding the man a wheelchair to use in the meantime), his face pressed into Shiro's shirt, inhaling deeply as he spoke.

"Goodnight Shiro. I'm glad I met you, you were definetly worth it." Lance sighed happily unaware of the blushing flustered mess Shiro had become.

At first he wasn't sure what to say to something like that. It was definetly a little odd for a goodnight even if the man was very obviously appreciative of Shiro's hospitality, although it was expressed in such a strange way it had Shiro wanting to seek out answers to this puzzle.

But first, bed time.

Eventually, Shiro hugged him back, a little less tighter than Lance's but happy to return the affection in some way, whispering goodnight to Lance before gently coaxing him back to bed, maybe spending a bit too much time tucking him in but he reminded himself, or rather, tried to convince, that he was simply being extra cautious since the man was injured. They still haven't been able to get any solid information such as who he was or where he came from, but he was ultimately deemed not a threat and welcomed by the castle staff and guards alike.

All except for Keith that is.

Keith was friendly, in his own strange way. He obviously cared for others who mattered to him and Shiro's second-in-command for a reason.

His people skills..need work on the other hand.

Since Lance has been invited to the castle, Shiro had found the two bickering several times and Lance had only been there for four hours. Keith didn't trust strangers so easily and was incredibly suspicious of Lance, Shiro didn't really blame him either because Lance did some..very weird things. Like tonight's dinner fiasco.

As Shiro slipped away from Lance's bedroom, trying to get Lance's soft sleepy smile out of his head, he almost groaned at the memory of Lance's first dinner experience in the castle and how..not great it turned out. Apparently salad was too confusing of a dish to explain to Lance so he didn't eat it. The main course, some kind of lobster bisque, had insulted Lance, and in the end the only thing he liked was bread that he referred to as a beige sea sponge. Then Keith got involved...

"Shiro I need to talk to you." Shiro flinched, finding himself suddenly face to face with the very angry person he was thinking off.

"Good because I think we need to sign you up for more etiquette lessons." Shiro teased amused as Keith's face bloomed in embarrassment before he turned away huffing, with Shiro following.

"Lance started it, he was acting so weird! All I simply said was, the fork isn't to comb your hair and he yelled at me! He got mad because I wouldn't let him comb his hair with a fork Shiro, a fork, thats weird." Shiro sighed in response, understanding somewhat.

"Keith what you said was and I quote; 'Hey idiot, that's not how a fork works,' and glared at him until he stopped. I don't blame him for getting upset to be honest." Shiro shrugged it off, turning away towards his room when Keith jumped in front of him again.

"Still, how does someone his age not know how to use a fork? He looked like he had never seen one before Shiro! He's been looking at everything like that He got excited sitting in a chair Shiro. A chair. Don't you think that's a little suspicious at all? What if he's planning something?" Keith asked urgently to which Shiro sighed, aware that Keith tended to think towards the negative and conspiratorial side of things.

"Well, it's strange but I'm actually starting to guess the poor guy hit his head so hard he may have amnesia. It explain's why he can't remember how to use the most basic of human tasks. That or something really bad happened to him, we'll just have to find out and by doing that, he'll have to stay here, got it?" Shiro asked gently to which Keith nodded, obviously disgruntled with the idea.

"Fine but I don't like this." He griped trodding behind Shiro heading off towards his own room as Shiro just about closed his door, a few guards posted outside in case of any emergency.

"Okay MOM. Goodnight." Shiro held back a giggle when Keith made a face, waving him off as his version of 'goodnight' before Shiro shut his door getting ready for bed and a small part of him excited and intrigued to get to know his blue eyed guest.

[dannyphandump]

Dancing Around the Truth pt. 3

(Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | to be continued) (Read on AO3 | FFN)

Summary: The last thing Valerie wanted was to get caught up in Paulina’s plot to ask Phantom to the winter formal.  Unfortunately Paulina’s made sure she doesn’t have a choice.  Meanwhile, Danny just wants to finish his Algebra quiz.  For @phantombreadproject for the Christmas Truce 2018.

Danny paced the small floor of Valerie’s shed, growing more nervous by the moment.  Maybe he shouldn’t have picked this place.  For all she said about not hunting him anymore, she hadn’t been back to clean out the torture chamber setup.  Unfortunately, that wasn’t the main source of his worries.

It’s just Paulina, he told himself, trying to calm his core, which had insisted on dropping the already-freezing air several degrees.  It’s not like I’m going up against a ghost or… who am I kidding, I’d way rather be dealing with ghosts than this.

His face burned in spite of the cold.  It was just Paulina.  Just the girl he’d had a crush on all of freshman year, until his brain had finally caught up with puberty.  In hindsight, he could see just how stupid he’d been to actually try going out with her. He’d embarrassed himself because of her more times than he could count.

But that was two years ago.  He liked to think he was smarter than that now - even if his grades didn’t show it.  Still, he couldn’t help worrying that she’d manage to get in his head again.  When Paulina wanted something, she usually got it.

And what she wants is a date with me.  Well, half of me anyway.  He laughed and ran a hand through his hair, which was accumulating frost at the tips.  If it had been his human half Paulina was interested in, maybe things would have been different.  Or maybe not.  She was way too high-maintenance to add on top of his already hectic ghost-fighting schedule.

After what felt like an eternity, the shed door finally slid open - Valerie had rigged it so it worked more like a garage door, allowing her to fly in without dismounting her board.  He forced himself not to react at the sight of the girl clinging to Valerie’s waist for dear life.

“See?  There’s your ghost.  Happy?”  Valerie said, simultaneously retracting her board and closing the shed door.  Paulina yelped but managed to keep her footing in - were those stilettos? That couldn’t be comfortable - as she dropped to the ground.

“You could give a girl a warning,” she muttered, but then her full attention was on Danny.  “Phantom!  You actually came to see me!”

He forced a grin onto his face.  “Well, technically you came to see me.”

She sauntered up to him, quickening his core’s frequency in spite of himself.  The past year had been good to her.  Her hair was as long and glossy as ever, and her emerald green sweater clung to her waist.  At least she’d given up the crop tops for the winter.

He took an involuntary step back as she got close.  Too close already. Her bold, flowery perfume strangled him, intensified by his ghost form’s heightened senses.  Both Sam and Valerie always had more subtle, gentle scents.  He should thank them for that.

“I see you, you see me, the important thing is we’re seeing each other.”  Paulina smiled.  “I didn’t think the Red Huntress could do it.  How did she finally manage to catch you?”  She asked, talking like they were old friends.  Or old… something more than that.  Which they definitely weren’t.

“Uh, she didn’t.”  He cast a glance towards Valerie, as if she could bail him out.  She relaxed against the wall with her arms casually crossed. He couldn’t make out her face through her mask, but couldn’t help feeling like she was laughing at him.  Maybe she hadn’t let the whole fiasco with Cujo and her dad’s job go after all.

“She just asked me to come, that’s all,” he said, eyes still hovering over Valerie, because that was easier than looking at Paulina.  Not that Valerie didn’t look good too, but - that was another path he didn’t have the attention for now.  He cleared his throat.  “She said you had something important to ask me.”

“Oh.  Yes.  I…” Suddenly she looked nervous.  Paulina, nervous?  Around him?  The thought was so shocking that he almost missed her next words.  “I wanted to ask you to the Casper High Winter Formal.”

She stared up at him through long eyelashes, her hands clasped down by her waist.  He blinked stupidly.

“Winter formal?”  He echoed.  Valerie hadn’t provided that detail.  Not that it mattered, he guessed; a date was a date, but the school dance?  There were a million reasons that he couldn’t make that happen.  That didn’t stop her from quickly continuing on.

“Yes, I even asked Vice Principal Lancer if you’d be allowed to come, and he said if you signed the out-of-school forms-”

Danny gaped.

“Wait, you talked to Lancer about asking me out?”  On one hand, he almost wished he could’ve seen his teacher’s reaction.  On the other, she’d clearly thought this out for too long.  She raised an eyebrow.

“What, do you know him or something?  Anyway, he said it would be fine, and then you can even protect the dance from the inside.  You know how Casper High dances tend to attract ghosts.”  She flipped her hair, flashing him another smile.  He did know.  It was his fault the dance freshman year got wrecked.  Well, mostly his fault, and a little bit of Sam and Paulina’s too.  He shook off the memory.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he blurted before she could try to convince him further.  The wide-eyed shock on her face, he’d expected - no one told Paulina no.  What he didn’t expect was the downcast despondency that swept over her the next moment.  

“What I mean is, I - I’m gonna be busy that night,” he covered, then wanted to smack himself.  Stupid!  Val told you you’ve gotta let her down hard!  Maybe he should’ve asked her for tips.  After all, she’d been the one to let him down.  He’d never turned down a girl in his life, not that he’d had any throwing themselves at him like this before.  It was distinctly less pleasant than he’d imagined.

“Oh,” she said, straightening her shoulders and composing herself.  “I’m sure you’re very busy, being a hero and all… what exactly do you have plans to do?  If you don’t mind me asking.  I mean, you can’t know when exactly the ghosts are going to attack our helpless town.”

Crap.  Word traps.  He hated those.  Ghosts, he could simply punch his way through, but he couldn’t exactly do that to his classmate.  Not that he wanted to punch Paulina! Gah, he just needed to focus, think his way out of this -

He glanced over at Valerie, hoping for some kind of reassurance.  To his surprise, she’d removed the faceplate of her mask to mouth something at him.  What, he couldn’t tell; he was no good at reading lips.  All he could catch was the word “ghost,” which could’ve meant anything.

Paulina noticed his distraction and looked behind her, and Valerie abruptly shut her mouth.  For some reason Paulina still did a double take, her eyes flashing from him, to Valerie, and back as her mouth slowly opened.

“You - wait a second - you know who she is? Without the mask?”  Paulina asked.  Demanded, more like, with the fire in her eyes.  The question caught him completely by surprise, but of course she’d ask that.  No one else knew that Phantom and the Red Huntress were friends yet.

“Uhh… yeah?”  He admitted.  After all, Valerie was right.  His lying sucked.  Especially when it came to lying to pretty girls.

“And you still let her hunt you?  You could have, like, found her and stolen all her equipment, couldn’t you?”  Her hands braced against her hips, like his mom would do before grounding him from video games for a week.

“Well - yeah, I guess I could’ve, but she was hunting the bad ghosts, too.  Besides, we’re all good now,” he said, hoping to deflect the attention away from Valerie as quickly as possible.  She flashed him a grateful smile, which he returned.

“No way.  She was just trying to kill you yesterday!  How can you just be-!”  Paulina’s outburst cut off as quickly as it began.  She took a deep breath, forcing a placid smile back onto her face.  “Of course, I’m sure it wasn’t hard for a handsome ghost like you to charm her.”

“What?”  Valerie exclaimed.  Danny nearly choked before his cheeks swelled with laughter.

“You think I charmed - wait, you really think I’m handsome?”  A light green blush stained his cheeks.  Maybe he wasn’t going to date Paulina, but was there any way he could get that in writing?

“Oh, quit preening,” Valerie snapped, stalking over to them.  “Phantom couldn’t charm his way out of a paper bag.”

“Hey,” he pouted, falling into the familiar banter.  It helped to distract him from his ex-crush still standing too close.  “I’ve charmed my way out of a number of paper bags, thank you very much.”

She rolled her eyes but directed her attention back to Paulina.  “The point is, Phantom told you no.  Time to leave.”

“You promised me a fair chance, Huntress.”  Paulina placed her hands on her hips.  To her credit, she didn’t use Valerie’s name, even when it looked obvious that he knew it.  “I think a fair chance would involve me talking to Phantom alone, don’t you?”

Danny’s eyes widened.  “Uh, I don’t think-”

“No,” Valerie shut her down simply, crossing her arms.  “My place, my rules. I’m not leaving.”

“Well, then maybe Phantom could take me for a little flight?”  She batted her eyes at him.  If he’d had a heartbeat, it would have been racing.  As it was, his core was fluctuating, frosting over the concrete beneath his boots.  Paulina didn’t seem to notice the chill.

“No,” Valerie answered for him again.  As pathetic as it made him seem, he was glad.  He was going to have her teach him how to turn people down.

“What are you, his girlfriend?”  Paulina scowled.  “Let him speak for himself.”

“Um… actually…”  He stepped back and tugged at the jumpsuit around his neck.  

“Well you sure aren’t!”  Valerie snapped, clenching a fist.

“I could be.”  Paulina cocked her hip.  “What, are you jealous?”

“I’m not-!”

Danny’s eyes flickered between the two girls, wishing he could just fly out of here.  He should be at home doing Algebra homework, not dealing with… dealing with… this!

“Stop!”  He finally shouted, voice vibrating with the beginnings of a ghostly wail.  He wouldn’t let it go that far, but the power in it startled the two girls from their argument.

“I’m not going to the dance with you, Paulina,” he said, channeling the bravery that he normally saved for ghost fights.

“Why not?”  She had the audacity to ask back.  Almost like she truly couldn’t believe someone would tell her no.  Well, he guessed no one had before, but the response still threw him off guard.

“He doesn’t have to-” Valerie began, but he was already blurting the first reply that came to mind.

“I’m dating Valerie.”

Both sets of eyes fixed to his.  One wide with shock, another narrowed in disbelief.  He wanted to put his fist in his mouth.  Stupid, of all the lies he could’ve tried, that was the one he had to spout?  He could have made an excuse about being dead.  Or literally anything else.  Whatever, no choice but to run with it and hope Val would forgive him.

“Uh, what I meant was, I was going to ask Valerie.  Now that she’s not trying to kill me.”  He grinned nervously, trying to read her expression.  The shock had faded, leaving a look that he could only compare to a Blue Screen of Death.

“You - you want to go out with her?”  Paulina pointed at the other girl.  “But… but you just said she tried to kill you!  And - you could go out with me!”

“Lots of people try to kill me.  Val’s the best out of all of them.”  Wait, that came out wrong.  “I mean, the best person.  Not the best at killing me.  I’m still alive.  Well, halfway.”  He chuckled.

“Don’t tempt me to finish the job,” Valerie said dangerously.  Paulina’s hands shook, looking ready to snap something in half.

“See?  She’s not going to go out with you anyway,” she said, reaching for his arm, which he tugged back.  “I’m just asking for one date. Please.  Phantom, I - you’re the first boy I’ve had a real crush on!”

She covered her mouth, as if surprised she’d let that slip.  As flattering as it was, Danny couldn’t let it change his mind.  Though he supposed he could let it change his tone.

“I’m sorry, Paulina.”  He hesitantly placed a hand on her shoulder.  That was more touch than he should’ve risked, but his mind was set now.  “It’s too late.  I’m sure you’ll meet a nice, alive boy you can go out with.”

“Too late?”  She frowned.  “What do you mean, if I’d asked before Valerie stopped hunting you, you’d go out with me?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” he backtracked quickly, raising his hands.  “I just… uh…”  What could he say?  That he’d had a crush on her years ago?  At least his tongue didn’t betray him that badly.  He could only imagine how she’d react to that.

“Nevermind,” she said bitterly, hunching and turning her back on him.  “You’re not the hero I thought you were, anyway.  Just… take me home.”

Her shoulders drooped.  For once, her voice actually sounded defeated.  The words cut deeper than he’d expected.  Like he was getting rejected by her back in the ninth grade all over again.

“I’ll take you,” Valerie said, her tone surprisingly kind.  She jumped, and her board sprouted from her feet; she extended a hand to help Paulina up.  The girl pointedly avoided looking towards Danny as they rose into the air.

“We’re going to have a talk about this later, Phantom,” Valerie added with one of her signature intense stares.  Danny tried not to flinch back from it.

Great.  Just when he’d started to repair their friendship, he’d had to go and ruin it with a stupid lie.  He never meant to ask Valerie out… or well, maybe he did, eventually.  She’d only broken up with him because of ghost fighting, and now that they were on good terms… only he’d probably gone and ruined that tonight.

So much for charming your way out of a paper bag.  He’d managed to cut romantic ties with not just one but three girls in the past month.  Paulina was obvious; that had never been a possibility.  He and Sam had dated for a few weeks before it just felt too awkward.  They’d thought they liked each other romantically, but actually dating felt like walking on eggshells for both of them, never knowing how to interact anymore.  Almost like neither of them were really themselves.  Breaking up had been mutual, and had somehow left them closer than before, as weird as it sounded.  There weren’t any more secret feelings between them.  They’d always have each other, no matter what happened, and that was what mattered.

But Valerie… maybe his feelings for her weren’t quite as visceral as what he felt around Paulina, but he did like her.  A lot.  Especially after how she’d finally quit working with Vlad, and she’d helped Danielle… her heart was always in the right place.

“I do not need to be worrying about this,” he muttered up at the ceiling before turning intangible and flying out.

He’d deal with his conflicted feelings later.  Right now he had algebra homework to finish.

XXX

As she glided through the night sky, Valerie tried to ignore the faint sniffles coming from the girl clinging to her waist.  Though her helmet filtered out the sound of rushing wind, the faint crying was somehow loud enough to hear.  Or maybe she was just imagining the sound because she could feel Paulina shaking behind her.

She’s probably just cold, she reasoned.  Paulina wouldn’t really be this distraught over Danny, would she?

“You’re the first boy I’ve had a real crush on!”  Was that true?  She’d dated plenty of other guys before but… she’d seemed too embarrassed to be lying.

Valerie frowned as sympathy fluttered in her chest.  She shouldn’t feel bad for Paulina.  Danny didn’t owe her anything.  Still, as Paulina’s oversized house came into sight below them, the pitiful feeling in Valerie’s chest grew.  She wanted to chalk it up to the sheer awkwardness of seeing Paulina lose her composure, but had a feeling it went deeper than that.  It was hard not to relate to another girl getting her heart broken, no matter how much she probably deserved it.

“Hey,” she said carefully, slowing her board to a halt above the sloped roof.  “You good?”

“Just peachy,” Paulina snapped, but it didn’t have the same effect while she was still hugging Valerie’s waist.

“Sorry,” she muttered.  It had been too long since she’d comforted anyone, and she’d never been great at it in the first place.  “Phantom’s right, you know.  There’ll be other guys.  Alive guys.”

“Easy for you to say,” she sniffed.  “Apparently he wants to date you!  What did you do to him, Val?”

Her cheeks flushed.  That topic was something she’d rather deal with later.  What had possessed Danny to blurt that?  Of all the stupid excuses he could’ve made… But the real problem was, she couldn’t be entirely sure it was a stupid excuse.  Or if she wanted it to be.

Things were just… just too complicated right now.

“I don’t know,” she replied, shaking her head.  She hardly even knew what he’d done to her.  For all her comment that he couldn’t charm his way out of a paper bag, his neon green blush as he’d asked her out remained imprinted in her mind.  It should’ve been just one more sign of Danny’s ghost side, one that she would’ve likely found creepy two days ago, but now…

She sighed.  Complicated wasn’t the half of it.

“Come on, you don’t just go from enemies to looking at each other like that overnight.  Something happened.”  Paulina let go of Valerie and swayed for a bit before getting her balance on her own.  It would be safer to put her down on the balcony, but it would be better to keep this conversation on Valerie’s turf, especially now that Paulina was regaining her composure.

“That’s between me and him,” she said definitively, though her mind was divided.  Looking at each other like what?  Like they were keeping secrets?  Because they were, but that had nothing to do with Danny liking her.  

“Fine,” Paulina snorted.  “But I’ll find out eventually, Gray.”

“I highly doubt that.”  Unless Danny decided to tell her his secret, it wasn’t one anyone was going to guess on a whim.  “I kept my end of the deal. You promised you’d get off my back.”

“I promised I’d keep my mouth shut,” she replied, raising a finger.  Valerie grit her teeth.

“Close enough.  You really don’t want to get caught up in my life, anyway.  I’m a social outcast, remember?  Wouldn’t want to drag you down a few rungs.”

Paulina shrugged.  “To get closer to Phantom?  I might.”

“Get real, Sanchez.  He turned you down.  I almost felt sorry for you about that, but I don’t now.”

Anger flashed behind her eyes.  “He didn’t - he just… as soon as you break his heart, he’ll come back to me.  You’ll see.”

“Right.  Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”

For once, Paulina looked away.  Discreetly she tried to wipe her eye, only succeeding in smearing mascara across her hand.

“...You don’t have to rub it in,” she finally replied.  “I don’t expect you to get it though.”

“What?  Being rejected?  Yeah, I can.”  Valerie crossed her arms.  Did Paulina not remember what she’d done to her?  Maybe it wasn’t the same as being rejected by a crush, but she’d been punted out of her only friend group.  “Maybe it’s about time someone taught you what that feels like.”

Paulina glared.  “I’m not asking for your sympathy.  I’m just - I’m going to bed.  Put me down.”

Valerie frowned but lowered her board to the balcony, grabbing Paulina’s arm when she lost her balance.  She quickly snatched it away and hopped off the board.

“Wait, Paulina…” Valerie found herself saying.  The other girl stiffened, her hands clenched to fists at her sides.

“Just shut up, Gray.  Just shut up.”

She swallowed the apology that had been forming in her throat.  If Paulina didn’t want to play nice, that was her problem.

She spun her board around and jetted into the night.

[storyofauke]

@timejourneytales sent me some great thoughts and questions. Sharing with their permission:

timejourneytales said: Like lol wow sweetie it has been a loooong time. I read some of your recent posts and again it sucks that some of the anons have turned troll on ya. Oh and this isn't a anon ask it just probably a bit too long for the ask lol. Where do I start? So many things I wanna say.... Well first the whole Fei and Mik fiasco that started the trolls. You know me I am a straight up lover of the long-haired beauties. With Feilong and who he is to be shipped with I just go with the flow because in the past you made good points on it either being Mikhail or Yoh. At first I wanted neither but then you explained how either could be good. Mikhail as you once said has this glamour to him and Yoh has this solidness to him, basically one has what the other lacks to make a perfect match for Fei. I am kind of rooting for Yoh yet sometimes have my fingers crossed for Mikhail too because the man is a goofball sometimes. But as you mentioned in a recent post it might not be what sensei has planned. And I think that is what is causing the trolls they sense that Ayano-sensei may get rid of Mikhail later and they don't want to even think of that. All you're doing is voicing you're opinions, and saying what YOU THINK is gonna go down. That is the reason why I have come to love your blog. That and how you clear things up. 

Me: Aw, thank you. I get that people are passionate about the characters they love. What I still don’t get is getting angry at me for not agreeing with them. Ship away to your heart’s content, but why flip out because I refuse to get on that particular ship with you? Honestly, if we could all learn to bear dissenting opinions with a little more equanimity, the world would be a better place.

As to wanting someone for Fei, I feel pretty detached, personally. I’m very interested in Fei’s current arc because it’s so emotionally complex and unusual. I’m much more invested in seeing how that plays out. I am interested enough in him as a character to want him to have someone. I think he deserves happiness and I think it’s in his nature that happiness for him would come in the form of a life partner. Fei needs to be loved. He should be loved. All that fabulousness should not be wasted on the desert air.

timejourneytales said: But yeah I think, as fun as it may sound, Fei and Mik may not be. Because to me I feel Mik has been all chase and fling with Feilong. Yea he likes to flirt with the guy because it can throw him off and hey tactics are tactics right. Basically more of a physical attraction and interest in the hunt. 

Me:  I agree. And I get that on the surface, Mik presents a very sparkly option (to borrow sensei’s own word.) They are awfully pretty together. But is Mik really what Fei needs or more importantly, what Fei wants? I mean, it’s pretty much been spelled out that Fei wants a daddy figure. Not just adoration and security but a firm support from which his fabulousity can flower. I just don’t think Mik is suited to that role. They’re too much alike to make a long-term relationship work. 

And back to what Fei wants: to this point in the manga, I haven’t seen any evidence that Fei is at all attracted to Mik. In fact, what I see is active dislike. To argue otherwise undercuts the sacrifice Fei is making for Asami. I see a lot of Fei fans celebrating that and wondering what Asami will think when he finds out. But if Fei is attracted to Mik, then it’s not a sacrifice, is it? Then the whole arc is shot to hell.   

timejourneytales said: And also the whole thing with Akihito. Why is it so easy for people to point out that yeah Feilong rapped Aki and call him a baddie but say otherwise with Asami who did the same? I mean I am actually the same. How easy it is to overlook that Asami did what he did and be fine but when think of Fei I think how he kind of got his in Finder No Rakuin or in the one nightstand chapter with Mik. 

Me: Okay, I do not want to excuse what Asami did to Aki (the rapes and the rotten things he said to wreck Aki’s confidence,) but I do think there is a difference in Asami’s motives vs Fei’s motives for raping Aki and that this is why many readers give Asami a pass. 

With the understanding that this is a fantasy and that rape is bad in real life blah blah, the argument can be made that Asami did not consider what he did to Aki in chapter one as rape but rather as ravishment. And I don’t think he initially abducted Aki with the intent to rape him. I think he intended to just scare Aki off but was overcome with desire (which is the classic ravishment fantasy) and then couldn’t help himself. And he was careful to see that Aki felt pleasure and--if you read the novelization of the first chapter--even practiced aftercare. (Again, I am not excusing this behavior, just laying out the argument.)

But Fei raped Aki out of revenge. Over a long period of time. There was no desire involved, no care for what Aki might or might not feel. For Fei, Aki was an object, a means to exact his revenge and vent his anger. But for Asami, Aki was always a person, even when he was just toying with him. 

HOWEVER, what Asami did was still wrong. How Asami undermined Aki’s understanding of their relationship was, IMO, even worse. Where Fei proves himself a better human being capable of growth is in understanding that what he did was wrong and apologizing. And now, against his own lingering desires--albeit grudgingly, reuniting the two.

Asami has some major ground to make up in this respect and I’m not at all sure we’re going to see him even try. (Is he even capable of understanding and acknowledging that what he did was wrong?) By that measure, Fei would come out of this story the real winner.

timejourneytales said: And I yeah I loved the omake's. Which of three would you say was your favorite? And I agree how brilliant sensei is in including the struggles of her characters in them. 

Me: Yeah, I’ve said before that sure, this isn’t War and Peace, but sensei does put thought into what she’s doing, and that she can make the omakes light, fun, super sexy AND thematically relevant is no small trick.

I think the vampire one is my favorite because I love these glimpses into the soft, gooey center of Asami’s subconscious. He’s all giving and caring in his perception of himself! I wish he would put that into more open, active practice in his waking moments because Aki still ain’t getting it.

I was intrigued by the brief moment of Asami toying with the idea of fighting on the right side of the law in the hero show extra, and that leads into your last comment:

timejourneytales said: And that is a good question, in the end will Asami come to the light or Akihito to the dark. I wanna say the latter most likely because any chance at a "normal" life for a Asami is easier said than done. Especially when. You consider his "popularity" in the criminal world. Anyway that is all I wanted to say today:)

Me: And that is a very good point. It would be enormously difficult for Asami to leave the underworld and live an entirely “normal” life. However, I don’t think it would be impossible. And since he’s supposed to be this highly educated genius and everything, I would think it would be within his scope to plan for such a thing. And after what we learned about him in FnS, it would be believable that he has planned for such a thing, now that we know that a criminal lifestyle is not what he wanted and that at one point in his life, he very much wanted to live as a normal person. 

Now he has a new reason to want that life: Akihito. As a smart, powerful man, I believe he could make it happen. The question is, how much has he changed in the eighteen years between FnS and now? Is he too much a prisoner of the dark? It certainly seems that the manga is leaning towards Aki merely being a light within the darkness and not a beacon to lead Asami out of it. More realistic that way, yes, but...sigh. Don’t we all, as fans, have things we know sensei will not give us?

[teamoliv-archive]

Cutscene: Old Grudges

Major Cobalt Ymir stood beside former police inspector Melina Briar, or as she has been calling herself, “Mother Marianne,” as they walked down the darkened tunnel Robin’s trail had lead them down. “I have been meaning to ask you,” He says breaking the silence, “Why tell me your name if you have been in hiding for so long?”

The old huntress lets out a wheezing sigh through her mask. That was a good question. “Perhaps... I merely wished to ensure someone would know I did not die in that blaze all those years ago in case my chase came to an end. I will not lie to you, Major, I am old and not as strong as I used to be. I only barely stood against your nephew the last time I encountered him and I will not have the advantages I did before.” Neither needed to focus on the trail. It was clear and both had concluded Robin was leading them somewhere. It was almost certainly a trap of some kind. However, a trap is only as good as the inability of the target to see it coming. Neither she nor Cobalt were worried.

Cobalt let out a dismissive huff. “Suit yourself. I have no intention of dying here. Playing martyr will gain us nothing. It’s an old army saying. The point of war is not to die for your cause, but to make your enemy die for theirs. The moment you enter into a fight assuming you will die, you have already lost.”

The tunnel began to open up into a large room. It appeared to be an old basement or work area for the sewers and tunnels in the city’s cliff face, but absolutely nothing but two more tunnels were on the other side.

And the man they were following standing right in the middle.

Robin Goodfellow wasn’t surprised at all with the appearance of both Cobalt and Marianne. They weren’t surprised to see him either. He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit a cigarette. “Well... ‘Bout time you two showed up. Nice job with the fire by the way. I’ll tell you, that took everybody for a spin.”

“Robin. Had I known you were involved in this earlier I would have tried to stop you- I should have tried to stop you. You know why your father and I came here. Come home.”

“I will not pretend you won’t face substantial prison time for this, but if you surrender we can secure you some leniency. We are already prepared for any trap you have prepared. You can’t take on both-”

“Down!” Cobalt rushed forward deflecting several shots with his saber. They came from one of the tunnels behind Robin. Marianne did likewise. With swords at the ready they strained to see the figure approaching.

Jade Leroux stepped forward out of the shadows with his left arm extended and weapon primed to fire. “Trap? No. Ambush? Well I didn’t assume either of you would fall for that. No, this is merely settling the score.” He turned his attention to the masked huntress for a moment. “Ah, Inspector Briar. So nice to see you again after all these years. I really must thank you for sparing me all the trouble of hunting you down again. I take it you were responsible for the fiasco that just cost me my next star competitor?”

So that’s what this was about. Jade wanted to tie up loose ends and had Robin help. Still, news of Lapis being able to leave with the children was good. Now she could fight at ease.

“Listen, Uncle... I’m goin’ nowhere. Just finishin’ this last job up and then I’m off to do whatever I want. I’m a free man in this equation. All I gotta do is help polish up the mess. You don’t have to be here. Let’s just pretend we didn’t see each other, huh?”

“That would technically complete why I came here, yes.” He paused and ignored a dark look from Marianne. “However... I do not keep my promises only technically.

“And I have my own score to settle here. If I may echo your father, if you do not stay out of my way I will be forced to go through you.”

“So that’s that then? Then let us begin.” Jade darted forward with his arm-mounted blade and met Marianne’s sword.

“One last chance.” Robin says, readying his own weapons. “You let us deal with the old lady and we’ll make it worth-

“SHIT!-” He flings his kukri out to catch a large fireball that continued behind him. He forgot how strong his uncle’s enhanced dust was. “Alright, fine!” He charges forward at Cobalt, who held out his pistol in his left hand.

Cobalt braced and moved to the side when Robin swung, using his mechanical arm to block the sickle in his off hand. He brought the hilt of his saber down against the other man’s face just before he backed up. He’d have to keep that up. It took a lot of skill to be even decent with two weapons. Robin was a lot better than decent.

Jade met Marianne blow for blow and neither were getting anywhere. He spun around and slammed the side of his shield against her. She twisted her weapon to block a  few feet shy before the blade pivoted ninety degrees and the rest of the scythe’s handle extended to block just in time. She brought the longer weapon up in an arc to push his arm out of the way.

She was about to deliver a kick as a follow up but Cobalt beat her to the punch, turning his pistol on Jade and letting loose a powerful stream of arcing lightning. Robin in turn managed to get a heavy blow in with his kukri from the side. 

He slid his grip from the handle to a solid piece of leather dangling from it and started to spin the blade. It was building up flames as the dust chamber in the weapon activated, creating a ring of flame that he tossed around the Major and to his intended target. She brought up her weapon to intercept and break up the blow, but her cloak caught.

Cobalt brought his mechanical arm back to elbow Robin away as Jade charged forward, poised with his triangular blade again. Cobalt feigns a block and lets his saber catch the blade, only to let it be tossed from his hand. He uses this to duck under Jade’s arm and pulls his pistol back, letting his artificial hand collapse into the rest of the arm, forming a cannon. He slammed the dust magazine of his pistol downward. A vortex of wind starts to charge. “I knew what you were planning with the Reynard girl since before we left Atlas.”

The tornado blew his opponent forward, slamming him into the stone wall.

Jade picks himself up and dusts a few pieces of rock from his suit. “So the sudden Vytal Festival invitation was your doing. I thought as much. For all the good it did you.” He levels his shield to intercept the Major’s next attack.

Marianne swung her weapon in a fury, forcing Robin to keep to blocking and avoiding her attacks. “Cobalt told me everything. You have a sister the same age as those children you kidnapped!” She wasn’t sure how she didn’t make the connection between that Goodfellow and this one. She was on the tournament footage, too, after all. They even looked alike. “Does that mean nothing to you!?”

“Do not!” Robin got in close, forcing his opponent to retract her weapon and robbing her of the reach advantage. “Dare!” He brought up his sickle and forced her weapon sideways. He slammed his other weapon right onto the woman’s mask, carving a wedge into it. “Bring!” He slammed down again. “My sister!” Again. “INTO THIS!” One last blow splintered the mask apart, revealing the old huntress’s burnt face. In her stagger he kicked her down and kept her there with a series of heavy stomps.

Cobalt spun around, blasting a heavy earth shot back at Jade as he blocks, encasing him. “I was hoping you would do that.” He snaps before turning back to his nephew. “Enough, Robin! Because of what you did to help this man you almost doomed Violet yourself! What made you think you were going to be able to have it both ways!?”

Jade grit his teeth and tried to squeeze out of the earth dust. His arm was stuck in the rock. He pulled a device from his pocket. “You have no idea how expensive these are, you know... But failsafes are failsafes, I suppose.” After a click, it was tossed over the earth wall and exploded, sending the rock out everywhere as the dust grenade went off. Military contraband- Cobalt recognized it immediately.

Jade felt his aura fizzle and took a few steps back. “I’ll leave that for you to tell him. I have unfinished business to take care of. Unless, of course, you want to be the one to-”

“Fuckin’ gladly!” Robin flips his sickle over and aims his gun right at Marianne’s face. As he was about to fire two things happen at once. First, the old woman reached up to grab the weapon, the second, Cobalt tackled him.

The still not-dead Mother Marianne rose to her feet wearily. With her face no longer obscured, she stared right at Jade. Like him, she felt her aura reserves all but leave her. She had only a little bit left and she would have to save it.

Cobalt refolded his arm to allow use of his hand and pistol again. “I see... You hate this man as much as I do. It makes sense now.” He calmly walks over to pick up his saber. He points behind Marianne as Robin was about to try another shot before letting off a gravity shot, sending the woman flying back into the tunnel. “Leave her alone.”

Cobalt stared at Robin not with anger or spite, but kinship for his nephew. “You believe yourself beyond redemption after all you have done. Is that why?”

“What the hell would you know about that!?”

“Because I know exactly how that feels.” He didn’t bother to glance back at Jade. This was the reason he came here after all. “I also know that it is not an endless pit of darkness. Now, I am bringing you home. Your father misses you.”

Robin watched over Cobalt’s shoulder as Jade staggered off. He wasn’t going to be able to make a beeline for the wounded investigator in his state. He just readied his weapons. “I can’t go back.” He charges forward.

He knew Robin was holding back before. This was faster than he had originally planned for. Still Cobalt managed to dodge and parry, but he couldn’t get a good shot in. He had one shot left and had to make it count. “Robin, listen to me! We can beat him! We both have people we care about who were hurt!”

Robin had never heard the Major lose his composure before. He, on the other hand, remained unmoved. “Ain’t about him.” He says as calmly as in normal conversation, “I’m no man my old man can be proud of or a little sister can look up to. I was lost a long time ago.” He knew what he did for Jade and how wrong it was. His problem was he didn’t care. In some cases he was actually enjoying himself. That wasn’t the sort of thing that could just be fixed up with some pretty apologies. He moved to the side to dodge a few swings from Cobalt’s saber. His opponent’s aura started to drain into his pistol, charging the last bullet in the chamber. Seeing this, Robin started spinning his own weapon again, arcing lightning. In a wide swing he catches his opponent’s prosthetic, severing it, and tearing up his chest. The shot fired at a corner and covered it in heavy block of ice, sticking out on all ends.

Cobalt staggers back, looking down at his lost arm, pistol, and aura. Under any other circumstance, he would have tried to find a way to retreat. Most general cut-throats took well to bribes or promises of influence or secrets and he had done all of those things in his life during his dealings with Tyrael. This time, none of that came to his mind. He held his weapon defiantly. “Is this really how you want to end this? This is not how you have to be!”

Robin walked up to Cobalt firmly. In his stagger, he wouldn’t be able to bring his sword to bear. “Maybe not, but it is.”

He plunges his kukri through the Major’s chest.

Cobalt tried to choke out a few more words in protest. No, it was already done. His mind drifted partially to his old unit and that ill-fated mission where he and one or two others had managed to survive, and none with all their limbs in tact. They were waving at him. 

Robin watched his uncle’s body falter. To be sure, he spun around and slit his throat with his sickle, sending the body backward. “You wanted proof I can’t go back? There you go. Didn’t feel a thing.”

He stowed his weapons and started walking down one of the tunnels opposite the one Jade went through. 

Marianne wasn’t sure how much of the battle she missed, but both Jade and Robin were gone. 

Apparently, so was Major Ymir. 

The poor man had promised he was going to live through this. The old huntress couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed that he broke that promise, but that was the anger part of grief talking. She always had grieved when examining a body- even a little. Far from a weakness, she considered it her resolve to find justice for those who met a fate they didn’t deserve. This one was no different.

She wasn’t going to be able to do this alone, though.

She looked through Cobalt’s bloody pockets and found what she was looking for. Opening the scroll, she found a few contacts who she had confirmation were in the area.

SMS Message to Tyrael Cheshire, Shin Goodfellow: [S.O.S. Officer down.] after also giving coordinates and putting the scroll back away to send the signal to them, she looked around. She was exhausted and there was no telling if Jade or Robin would return.

She would need to find a place to hide again until she recovered. She looked through her own scroll and gave the young man Lapis a call.

[wordsmith-by-night]

May I Borrow a Quarter

Detroit: Become Human One-Shot Characters: RK800/Connor x OC Word Count:  Spoilers: No

His hands were soft, much softer than she ever imagined they could be and enough to bring a light pink to her cheeks. She felt her back brush against his chest and only felt that pink deepen into a near red. “No,” he corrected, his voice a gentle hum in her ear. “It’s more like this.” Connor moved her hands back in forth with a rhythm that Amelia could barely comprehend while her brain raced a million miles an hour.

When Connor approached her desk only moments before, she never expected it to turn into such a heart racing fiasco. He asked her for a quarter, that was all. She teased him about being broke and having no money, and he answered in his usual fashion: completely logical and honest. “I have no need for money, but Lieutenant Anderson stole my calibration coin,” he explained.

Amelia couldn’t help her laugh at his response and shook her head. She popped open the top drawer of her desk, where she typically kept any loose change. Her bad habit was picking up loose change; where her friends would walk away after dropping a coin, she would hunt it down. No coin left behind, she called it.

So, handing Connor a coin wasn’t a big deal. She had been expecting Hank to steal the original one from Connor anyway. “Tell Hank he owes you interest now,” she joked.

“Interest on twenty-five cents would never amount to much,” he responded as he rolled the quarter over his knuckles. Amelia paid more attention to the coin trick than to him.

“Well, you’re hopeful. I wouldn’t expect him to pay you back for a long time,” she muttered. “Could really add up then.”

“I suppose.” He let the coin flip into his palm and then went to tuck it away. Amelia was on her feet before she even knew it, her chair pushing back across the floor and into Gavin’s desk. Luckily, Gavin wasn’t there to get annoyed by it and make a scene over the accident.

“Before you go,” she blurted out, ignoring Connor’s concerned look at the scene that just took place. “How long did it take you to learn those tricks? With the quarter, I mean.”

“I’m an android. It was programmed into me for calibration; I’ve always known them,” Connor answered. Amelia closed her eyes and nodded, mentally kicking herself for thinking he had to learn them somehow.

“Do you think a human could ever learn them?” she asked. He nodded with hardly a moment to think about his answer.

“With practice, I’m certain a human would be more than capable to do so,” he stated. He watched as she nodded slowly, the obvious sign of gears working in her head. “I can teach you if you would like.”

It was that statement and the agreement for it that landed Amelia in the situation she was currently in, with his hands on hers and his body so close. She kept dropping the quarter, and how could she not? All of her attention rested on him instead of the task she was trying to perform.

“Connor!” she heard Hank call from across the room. “The hell are you doing? We’ve got work to do!” Amelia felt Connor jump just partially behind her. He slipped the coin from between her fingers. The sudden distance between them felt almost instantly lonely to Amelia.

Connor flashed her a smile. “We can try to work on it some more another day,” he responded. Amelia nodded, biting her lower lip at the thought of him being so near to her again. He walked off without another thought to it, but Amelia couldn’t keep her mind from wandering to that next time…