#i clawed and fought and bit and dragged myself to where i am right now and had to find my voice TWICE and the worst part is

[dismalzelenka]

.

[daes-of-august]

Return of a Ghost

And here's today's conversation with Agate in story form.

I really don't know how to express how much talking to her again means to me, especially talking to her about the things she survived so I could heal.

It was summer, the bright afternoon sunlight shining through the window and casting a warm spotlight in August’s room. There was a ghost standing there just by the door. She stood still and silent, hands folded before her as if she wasn’t sure she was welcome anymore.

In truth, August wasn’t sure if she was either.

He’d missed her. He couldn’t even recall when the two last spoke. He’d seen her lurking at the edges of his vision, mismatched eyes watching him move forward while she remained still, but no words passed between them.

When did they grow so distant?

He’d missed her, and he knew how dangerous that was. She was never meant to stay, never meant to linger like a shadow of all they both tried so hard to leave behind. But here she was, and part of him was happy to see her.

The silence was dragging on, and as he stared, Agate looked like she was about to leave, to disappear back to whatever pocket of his mind she’d been hiding in.

“Where have you been?” August found himself asking.

Agate offered a tired lopsided grin. “Where do you think?”

“You’ve just been… here?” August knew the answer, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Yeah. I don’t think I can disappear entirely.” Agate looked down at her hand. “As it turns out, you can’t just erase all of the bullshit in your past.”

“Then why not come back? Things are different now, just look around. You can come back, join me and Cobalt and Cairo –”

“No, August,” Agate interrupted. She slowly made her way to the table beside the window, reached out to touch the leaves of the many plants that sat there. “Just because I’m still here doesn’t mean you should do anything about it. You’ve moved on, and I get it. You deserve to move on, we’ve fought hard enough for it. Just leave me like this. I can’t undo myself, but you shouldn’t have to see or hear me. It’s alright, I promise. Let me keep your past for you.”

“Do you still feel that way? The way we did back then?” August could hardly even remember how that felt. It seemed so long ago.

“I do. It’s different now, but I still carry it.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” August insisted. “Not like this.”

Agate’s grin widened into her signature sneer, far too many teeth glinting in the light. “You’re not gonna fix me, August,” and her voice was as firm as it was kind. “As I said, you can’t just erase all the stuff that’s happened to us. If I’m not gonna hold it, then you will, and we’ll all be right back where we started. Let this go, August. I’m serious.”

“So am I!” August took a deep breath and gestured to the spot on the couch beside him. “Sit, Agate. At least talk to me. Hear me out.”

Agate sighed and the sound reflected a bone-deep exhaustion that August had all but forgotten. She was just barely smaller than he was, but she looked so heavy as she sat. “I’m listening.”

“I can’t just pretend you’re not here,” August said. “It doesn’t matter what our intentions were. You’re here now. We can’t just pretend otherwise.”

“I’m not telling you to pretend,” Agate told him. “I’m telling you to move on –”

“But it’s the same thing, isn’t it?” August turned to face her fully, and he was reminded of who they’d been before. She’d been his counterpart, his other half. Things were different, but he felt like she still was. “I am you,” he said. “And you are me. What happened, happened to us, and if you carry it, then so do I. Letting you just fade away isn’t moving on, it’s repression.”

“It happened, it hurt, but it’s over now,” Agate huffed. Her eyes made him think of fire, but there was a horrible sorrow behind the flames. “There’s nothing to be done about it now. What exactly do you think ripping open old wounds is going to accomplish?”

“Because it’s not over,” August told her. “We’re better and things are different, but it won’t be overuntil we can face it and win and we’re finally in a place to do that.”

“Or you can just let me take everything back to the shadows with me.” The grin was gone. She was getting agitated, fingers curled into claws against her knees. “August, just let me do this. Please. Go on with Cairo and Cobalt –”

“But I want you too!” August felt like his heart was breaking and his eyes burned. “You’re more than what we went through. Cairo helped me pick up the pieces, but you’re the one who lived it. You’re the one that was strong enough to carry a broken world on your shoulders and keep it together until it could heal. Your determination, your stubbornness, your ability to survive. It’s all a part of me, of us, and it’s a part worth saving.” The tears finally came, rolling down his nose even as he tried to hold them back. “We’re worth it, Agate. The both of us, we’re worth it. I know it might hurt, and I’m terrified of what we might find, but what we can beis worth going back and facing what hurt us. I’m done running, and I’m done hiding. I want to see where Cobalt takes us, and I want you to come with me. So will you at least try? Come back to me?”

Agate was silent for a long moment. Then she leaned back and hummed. Her hands uncurled and reached out to touch August’s face. “There’s no need for tears, you crybaby.”

And August found himself smiling. “Yeah, I know.” He sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. “So, you’ll come back? I think Cairo misses you, and you still haven’t met Cobalt –”

“Slow down a bit,” Agate told him. “I’m… not ready for all that. Give me some time, yeah? I know you’re ready to move on, but I’m not. Not yet, anyway.”

“Okay.” August nodded to himself and glanced around. He and Agate were the only two in the room, the other daemons temporarily tucked away to give them some privacy. It was strange, being in a room without them, but Agate’s presence no longer held the air of foreboding it did earlier. “You and I can talk though, right?”

“Of course.” Agate stretched her arms over her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll meet the daemon brigade soon enough. I don’t even know how I’m supposed to talk to him anymore, but I missed Cairo. And I’m really curious where the hell Cobalt came from. They seem like a lot of fun.”

‘Be nice,” August pleaded.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be good to the baby.” She leaned back and closed her eyes and for the first time since she stepped into the room, she looked almost at peace. The light of the setting sun suited her, and August could almost imagine they were Home. “But first, let me just get used to being in this world again. I missed this.”

August just continued to watch. He felt like he was seeing a ghost returning to life, a glimpse of gold beneath the shadow and rust. They both were different, everything was different, but he supposed some things could stay the same. “Me too,” he said quietly, and turned back to the window.

[misrihalek]

This is for one person in particular. Well, maybe two people. 

...I wasn’t good for you, was I? 

You found me at a pretty low point of my life, I’ve said that before. I was trying to do what the world told me, trying to be a good little boy, get that job, earn my place in the world and...I failed. I was lying on a bed in a house in the suburbs, flatmates fighting in the ungodly hours of the morning, desperately trying to escape from the world. That was how you found me and for some reason you saw something worth a damn. 

And then I proceeded to bleed you dry. I didn’t know how to get myself out of my hole and so I just started dragging you down with me, using you as just another means of escape and demanding so much of you...far too much. How many times did you lament that your love wasn’t enough to help me stand on my own two feet? How many times did you think that you were inferior because of it? Did I make you hate yourself because of my failures? 

That’s not to say that it was all bad: we wouldn’t have lasted as long as we did if we didn’t click on some level, after all. The talks we had, the things we shared between us...it would be disrespectful to say that they meant nothing: maybe their value to us makes this whole thing worse in retrospect, who knows. What I do know is that, even if only ashes remain now, you were the best friend I ever had: you were kind, funny and passionate and your presence in this world stood in defiance of the forces that sought to bring you low. You fought for your right to exist, so maybe it makes sense that you waited for so long for me to do the same. I’m sorry I let you down. 

That’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it: why didn’t I leave that hole that I found myself in? I can blame outside forces (and I often did), but the fact of the matter is that I just didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to be the person that the world demanded of me and no-one seemed to be able to tell me, so somewhere along the way I just grew comfortable in that wretched hole, at home in my misery. I started pantomiming my own life, living as if death would never come and not really living in the process, and it was this awful piece of theatre that you ended up being an unwilling part of: despairing about the future that I couldn’t see and slowly wearing yourself away. I imagine the tipping point came after those three weeks together ended and you saw how little things had changed. 

Those three weeks...before long it will have been two years since that trip to see you and it’s...weird to think about. I know that time has lost a bit of its meaning since then, but even then it’s hard to believe that it was really that long ago. I still remember the elevator up to your apartment, walking to the tramlines and going to that one tea shop - and you bet your ass I remember that hike uphill to the castle. The emotions have faded over time, but I have no qualms in saying that those were quite literally the best days of my life: I know that the word “literally” has kinda lost its meaning in this day and age, but I can confidently say that no experience before or since has compared. So why didn’t it change anything? Why did I go right back into my hole when I got back? 

I don’t think either of us knew at the time, but come a few months later it didn’t matter all that much anyway. You found someone else and left and, now that I look back, I really can’t blame you for trying to find a less bleak fate than what was in store for you. I remember you saying to me how scared you were of a future where you had to support the both of us: why wouldn’t you be? I had demonstrated no ability to be a functioning human being and I would have inevitably become a burden...well, more of a burden. What kind of future is that, for either of us? And so you left to find a brighter one. 

It was ugly and painful and I have no doubt that it still hurts you, just like it does me. For a decent amount of time I was blinded by my own pain and I said things that I can no longer stand by in good conscience: I blamed you for how things had gone and eventually cut you out of my life so I could best deal with my wrenching sorrow. To some degree that action has proved successful: being able to live without having reminders of my failures at the forefront of my mind has let me claw back pieces of myself and move forward with my life, even if it has taken some time. I cannot however defend the reasons why I did it though, born as they were from an inability to reflect on my own deficiencies. 

It turns out that there might’ve been a reason for that inability, actually. You remember me talking about my Asperger’s Syndrome diagnosis? It was something that I got told about as I was growing up and it was basically conveyed to me as a low-strength form of autism, something fairly surmountable in comparison to the more traditional forms. Last year though, I found media that suggested that Asperger’s Syndrome was a less-than-credible condition from a doctor that quite literally collaborated with Nazis and further research revealed that the term was no longer in official use. I talked to my mother about this and she casually dropped into conversation that I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. 

ADHD! So many goddamn things clicked into place once she said that and I imagine that the same might be happening for you right now. No wonder I had so much difficulty functioning in that job, how infuriating it was to focus on things, how I would sally forth into different trains of thought mid-conversation. My mother’s general mistrust of the medical system also meant that I’d been dealing with these things all my life without any sort of medication, the usual way that other people with ADHD make themselves co-operate with the strictures of society. No wonder things went to fucking pieces the moment I stepped into the real world. 

I’ve had to do some serious thinking since then, not least of all about my future. I tried to keep on the jobsearching grind for a while after that bombshell dropped, but after months of no luck I snapped and decided to take an alternate route, one that I couldn’t consider while we were together. Since then I’ve moved away from home and I’m studying to maybe one day be a social worker: to one day have the tools to help people like me, people stuck in their own holes and unable to get out without the helping hand of someone who understands what they’re going though. No doubt you’d say that you’re happy for me and I don’t doubt that statement: you’re a better person that I was and even through all this you’ve wished no ill towards me. You’re a good person like that. 

These days I’m doing decently okay: I’m living with 3 flatmates who I get along with pretty well and my studies are progressing as they should. I’m trying to write a bit more as well, although about the only thing I’ve done lately of any tangibility has been...well, this. Even with the progress I’ve made, what happened between us still bobs to the surface from time to time and I have to process things all over again: it gets easier as time marches onwards, but that doesn’t mean that it’s easy. That probably explains why I reacted so violently to the message you sent me, among other things. 

What I said there was true: I can’t face you while things are the way they are. I’m not strong enough to watch you be happy with someone else, because it’s a reminder that I can no longer elicit that same joy from you: a reminder that our time has passed because of my failures. It’s knowledge that hollows me out from the inside. I tried to be strong - tried to ignore that hollowing out and remain friends - and failed over and over, coming close enough to nothingness to feel it encroaching on my soul, so now I put up my walls to protect it.

I need to be okay. And I can’t do that with you around. It’s an awful thing to say and you don’t deserve it, but it’s the truth. Once more you suffer for my deficiencies as a human being. 

I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the person that you needed: I guess the deck was kinda stacked against us from the beginning, considering what I didn’t know about myself and, y’know, the whole long-distance thing, so don’t go thinking that any of this was your fault. You remain one of the best people I have ever met and I am eternally grateful for the time we shared together: do not doubt that you are worthy of love, even in your lowest moments. You’re a damn good human being and you deserve to have good things happen to you, better things than me. 

I imagine you’re expecting me to say this, but oh well: I’d prefer it if you don’t send me a response to what I have written here. Beyond just safeguarding my own wellbeing, I’ve been meaning to write this for a long time now and what you see is pretty much every single thing that I can conceivably say in regards to all that has transpired between us. I don’t really have anything else to say and after this I will hopefully not think about this so much anymore and get on with my life. I would implore you to do the same. 

I wish you all the best. 

...

...there’s a small piece of me that doubles back on what I’ve written here, seeing if it can instill its will within the paragraphs wherein it can wend its way to you. It’s the piece of me that still loves you, that holds out hope that I may one day see you again and that we can rediscover what was lost. It tells me to leave my heart open to the opportunity, to hope against hope that things change. This last paragraph is my concession to it in the vain hope that it’ll finally fucking shut up.

[disastermages]

this is chapter 13 of the au where Xiao Xingchen raises Wei Wuxian

--

The Wen guards who had accompanied Wen Qing look nervously between themselves as they wait in the doorway, but Xiao Xingchen is barely paying attention to them as he walks forward, standing at his grandmaster’s opposite side and reaching for her elbow, though he’s quickly batted away.

“I’m fine, Xingchen. I’m only tired.” Baoshan Sanren shakes her head, trying and failing to wave off his concern when she stumbles and Wei Ying tightens his grip on her. If she was only tired, she wouldn’t have to lean on Wei Ying the way she was, she would at the very least be able to stand on her own, but the sight of it makes Xiao Xingchen’s eyes snap up to his nephew’s.

“A-Ying, what happened? Was there trouble in town?” There were a thousand worst case scenarios that Xiao Xingchen could think of, more than half of them involving Xue Yang, if he was still somewhere in the village.

Wei Ying shakes his head and opens his mouth to answer, but A-Qing beats him to it, “Grandma crushed the metal with her hand!” She peeks around Wei Ying’s robes as though she’s afraid of getting a scolding, but Xiao Xingchen can only blink at her, unsure if he’d heard her correctly.

Baoshan Sanren hadn’t been able to do anything about the Yin Iron when Lan Yi had decided she wanted to purify it, but more than a hundred years had passed since then, it had to be possible, right? “Grandmaster?” Xiao Xingchen asks now, setting a hand on her shoulder and nudging himself just behind her.

She doesn’t push him away again and Xiao Xingchen takes that as progress.

For a few seconds, Baoshan Sanren says nothing, looking past Wei Ying’s robes to where A-Qing had been standing before she sighs. “To think my own granddaughter would tell on me.” There’s exasperated fondness in his grandmaster’s voice and Xiao Xingchen smiles just a little, reaching out and setting his free hand on top of her head when A-Qing reappears at his side.

“We ran into Grandma while we were in town,” Wei Ying continues, picking up where his sister had left off as they guide Baoshan Sanren to sit down at one of the tables, though she waves them off again once she’s settled. Xiao Xingchen pulls Wei Ying back up with him, shaking his head just slightly. Their grandmaster was more stubborn than Wei Ying could ever hope to be. “Me and Lan Zhan told her everything we could think of, but we might’ve forgotten some stuff.”

Xiao Xingchen nods as he listens, glancing back at Lan Wangji as he presents Wen Qing with the now limp qiankun pouch, his arms held behind his back while she examines the contents. Her mouth falls open and she looks back at the four of them crowded around the table and Xiao Xingchen nudges Wei Ying when she starts to walk over, clutching the bag tightly.

“Sect Leader Wen,” Xiao Xingchen says, not bothering to bow this time, “please allow me to introduce my grandmaster, Baoshan Sanren.” Beside him, Wei Ying gives a short wave to his former classmate, smiling even as a look of determination sets across Wen Qing’s face.

“I am grateful for Baoshan Sanren’s help.” Wen Qing says, her voice and face both serious as she moves into a bow, not seeing the way Baoshan Sanren’s head cocks to the side at her, her own face dropping off into something thoughtful, as if she were trying to remember something. “If you would allow it, I was a doctor before my appointment as sect leader, I would like to offer my services as repayment for your aid with the Yin Iron.”

“You remind me of someone I once knew,” Baoshan Sanren says, rather than accepting or declining Wen Qing’s offer, her eyes squinting, “which branch of the Wen sect are you from?” Baoshan Sanren offers her wrist slowly, her eyes flicking between Xiao Xingchen and Wei Ying and Xiao Xingchen feels himself stand up straighter on instinct.

If he were any younger, he might’ve gotten a lecture about wandering headfirst into the trouble involving himself with sects would bring him, he still might, but Wei Ying and A-Qing would have to sit through the lecture with him.

Baoshan Sanren came down harder on he and Cangse than he ever had with either Wei Ying or A-Qing. Xiao Xingchen could only hope that she would continue spoiling the two of them, even if she ended up lecturing him.

“I’m Dafan Wen by birth.” Wen Qing answers, transferring a steady stream of spiritual energy directly into his grandmaster’s wrist, her eyebrows knit together as she works. “I was brought to Qishan when I was very young, Ma’am.” Baoshan Sanren huffs a laugh then, bringing up her knee and resting her elbow on it before she drops her cheek against her hand, dull amusement in her eyes.

“Dafan Wen…” The smile that spreads across his grandmaster’s face is one Xiao Xingchen hadn’t seen before, though the faraway look in her eyes was more familiar. “Wen Liao would be proud of her descendents, but I never thought she would actually break away from her brother.” The smile on Baoshan Sanren stays in place as she shakes her head, though she pulls her wrist back from Wen Qing. “That’s enough, little one, you’ll exhaust yourself if you keep going. I’ll be fine.”

Looking at her, Xiao Xingchen can see that Wen Qing has grown pale, though her energy has barely made a dent in Baoshan Sanren’s color. His grandmaster’s stores of spiritual power ran deep, Xiao Xingchen knew that firsthand.

“Sect Leader Wen, what happened to my grandmaster?” Xiao Xingchen asks, looking between the two of them, an unfamiliar anxiety settling in his chest like a summer storm cloud, thick, dark, and heavy. There had been a handful of times that Baoshan Sanren had returned to the mountain injured and bloody, she’d locked herself away in her own rooms with Cangse until she had recovered then, but Xiao Xingchen had never seen her so spiritually exhausted.

Pursing her lips, Wen Qing stares hard into the table, as if she could burn a hole into it with just her thoughts alone. “The Yin Iron most likely attempted to latch onto her golden core with the intent of draining her spiritual power.” Wen Qing says, dropping down to both knees and sitting at the table properly now. “I saw similar effects while I was caring for my uncle, but he lacked a core as strong as Baoshan Sanren’s. When she crushed it, the resentful energy may have attempted to fight back and harm her in retaliation, but I cannot say without having seen it for myself.”

“Grandmaster Baoshan became agitated while handling the piece.” Lan Wangji speaks quietly, coming to stand beside Wei Ying, their shoulders brushing together. Out of the corner of his eye, Xiao Xingchen thinks he sees his grandmaster’s eyes narrow at the two of them, though Lan Wangji doesn’t back away.

Xiao Xingchen turns to Baoshan Sanren then, her face betraying nothing as she nods along. “It was more spiritual power than I’m used to using on a singular thing.” She confirms, lowering her knee back into its original spot, a frown replacing the smile that had been on her face. “While I was holding it, it felt as though something was trying to dig its claws into me, every instance of irritation and anger was dragged to the front of my mind as if it had just happened.” Baoshan Sanren doesn’t look over as A-Qing begins to press herself into her grandmother’s side, she only lifts her arm and drops it again once A-Qing is comfortable, her own gaze burning into the table.

“Memories I’d sworn to forget nearly drowned me when they came flooding in.” A sigh weighs down Baoshan Sanren’s shoulders as she speaks, and very suddenly, her age shows, though only for a moment. “My mind only cleared when it was dust in my hand.”

“You believe this piece of the Yin Iron has been purified?” Wen Qing asks, holding the bag up and looking at it quizzically, as if she expected it to leap up and sink teeth into her hand.

Experimentally, Xiao Xingchen reaches out for it with his own spiritual energy, but receives no response, not even a spare bit of energy lingering behind to snatch at his own. He’d expected something to be there, something to lurk underneath the calm and answer him at the slightest agitation, but there’s nothing.

“There was resentful energy seeping through the pouch while Grandmaster held it.” Wei Ying thinks out loud, tapping his finger against the bridge of his nose as he looked off to the side, his eyes dark and thoughtful, “Her spiritual power must be stronger than the resentful spirits inside the Iron, but that doesn’t explain how Xue Yang is unaffected by it.”

“We don’t know for sure that he is unaffected by it, A-Ying,” Xiao Xingchen reminds, speaking to his nephew gently, trying to pull him back before he even had the chance to bury himself in research. “We’ve never fought Xue Yang long enough to notice any sort of deterioration and from Sect Leader Wen’s information, we only know that Xue Yang was vicious long before he was involved with the Iron.” Wen Qing’s face goes still as Xiao Xingchen speaks, her hands coming to rest on top of the table.

“I had another reason to speak with all of you.” Wen Qing says quietly, keeping her face neutral, “After the five of you left Nightless City, Xue Yang’s quarters were searched, and at first we found nothing of importance, but when we passed through again, we found evidence that he had been traveling to and from the Yiling Burial Mounds though a teleportation spell.”

The air turns too thick to breathe then, Xiao Xingchen, Wei Ying, and Lan Wangji all looking at each other, though Baoshan Sanren and A-Qing both have their eyes focused on Wen Qing.

“I thought you said no one could survive in the Burial Mounds.” Wei Ying says, looking at his uncle, and Xiao Xingchen bites at his own tongue, wishing he had some sort of explanation for him.

“No one is supposed to.” Baoshan Sanren answers for him, “The five great sects have each sent their own cultivators to try and purify it at some point and not a single one of them have ever come back, even a handful of rogue cultivators have tried it. If he’s taken up residence there, I have to wonder what the resentful energy is doing to the Yin Iron.”

“Still, his surname is Xue…” Wei Ying trails off, casting a glance over at Lan Wangji, who only looks away for a moment, before he looks back at Wen Qing.

“Is there any known connection to Xue Chonghai?” Lan Wangji seems to follow along with Wei Ying’s train of thought without hesitation or question, their arms pressed close together as Wen Qing shakes her head.

“None that I know of now, but I could ask my advisors to look through my uncle’s journals, there might be something there.” Even as she says it, Wen Qing looks doubtful, neutral face bleeding into a frown as she rises from the table, hands placed perfectly in front of her stomach.

“I will do all I can to aid you in apprehending him, but I must take my leave now. My advisors have told me that it is no longer necessary or wise to hide my uncle’s death from the rest of the great sects, we’ll be announcing it within the next week. My presence is required in Qishan.” Wen Qing bows deeply at the waist as she finishes, her eyes hard and genuine as she looks between the five of them, “Whatever you need, please request it.”

Another round of bowing passes between them as Wen Qing leaves, her guards closing ranks around her, their security undoubtedly doubled now.

“She’ll do well.” Baoshan Sanren says from Xiao Xingchen’s side, her eyes sharp as she watches them leave, “She might even pull her sect out of the muck Wen Mao’s grandson left them in.” Xiao Xingchen laughs lightly at that, a quiet smile spreading across his face as he turns around.

“Thank you for your help with the Yin Iron, Grandmaster.” Xiao Xingchen says, bowing to Baoshan Sanren, though she stops him cold, her hand tight on his forearm.

“There are things you and I need to discuss without quite so many eyes on us, Xingchen,” Baoshan Sanren’s voice dips low now, dropping to a hum without becoming a whisper, she moves to the side just slightly, and Xiao Xingchen catches sight of Wei Ying and A-Qing both watching from the dining room, though he couldn’t see where Lan Wangji was. “I’ve taken a room, we can talk there.”

“Whenever you called me into your rooms before, I was always in trouble.” Xiao Xingchen teases, dropping his arms back down to his sides when his grandmaster releases him.

“That was because you listened to Cangse.”

“Just like you told me to when you brought me to the mountain.”

“A-Chen.”

“Yes, Grandmaster.”

Baoshan Sanren goes upstairs ahead of him, leaving Xiao Xingchen to come stand in front of Wei Ying, A-Qing, and Lan Wangji.

“Is everyone alright?” Xiao Xingchen asks, kneeling down at the only empty place left at the table, though he waves it off when Lan Wangji offers to serve him tea.

“We’re fine, Uncle Xiao,” Wei Ying speaks for the group, though the small frown on his face is enough to make Xiao Xingchen doubt it, “but is Grandma okay?” There’s uncertainty in Wei Ying’s voice that Xiao Xingchen can only smile at, some of the tension dripping out of his shoulders.

“Grandmaster is fine, A-Ying.” Xiao Xingchen answers honestly, reaching over and brushing his thumb over the crease between Wei Ying’s eyebrows, “If anything, she’s only annoyed that she had to ask for help, you forget how when you’re as old as she is.”

He only gets to sit with them for a few more minutes, letting A-Qing push her way into his side for a little while before he has to stand up and leave again, though he drops her into Wei Ying’s lap and tells the three of them to stay close if they leave at all, only then does he climb the stairs after his grandmaster.

Part of him is pulled towards his and Song Lan’s room as he reaches the top of the stairs, wondering if he’d already woken up alone or if he still slept. He would have to fill his husband in if he’d already woken, but if he hadn’t, Xiao Xingchen should let him rest, there would always be time later, wouldn’t there? Breathing in deeply, Xiao Xingchen forces himself to turn and walk down the hall to his grandmaster’s door, feeling all of 12 years old and like he’s been caught swapping out a sect brother’s water for vinegar at his older sister’s request again.

Xiao Xingchen swallows down that feeling as he raises his fist and knocks on the door and enters when Baoshan Sanren calls him, forcing himself to stand up straight as he closes the door behind himself.

His grandmaster is sitting at the table by the time he looks at her, the sight of it doing absolutely nothing to make her appear shorter. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d gotten lost, come and sit, I won’t have you standing against the wall like a statue.” Baoshan Sanren’s voice lacks it’s usual sternness when she speaks, but Xiao Xingchen won’t make her repeat herself, walking forward and dropping down to his knees across from her. A cup of tea has already been poured and sat at his place.

“If I get lost, I only need to stay where I am and you’ll find me,” Xiao Xingchen says, staring into the dark liquid, “that’s what you always told me.”

“My A-Chen has always had a good memory.” Baoshan Sanren says, lifting her own cup to her mouth and taking a deep drink. “You and Cangse balanced each other well that way. I worried about you after she left, but then you left too. It only proved my point.”

“I missed her.” Xiao Xingchen confesses, still unable to drink his tea, “I was able to meet her again, but I miss her still.” His grandmaster smiles ruefully then, a chuckle shaking her shoulders.

“Wei Ying has her face, it’s hard to look at him sometimes, but it’s harder to hold him at arm’s length.”

“He acts like her, too, you should hear about the tricks he played while he studied in Gusu.” Xiao Xingchen allows himself to smile now, his hand at least reaching for his tea now. He expects another chuckle to leave his grandmaster, but silence is his only answer.

“Do you trust Lan Wangji?” She asks him point blank after a few beats of silence, and Xiao Xingchen nearly drops his cup back onto the table.

He only barely manages to set it back onto the table, dropping his hands back down to his thighs and digging his nails into them. “I trust Lan Wangji as much as I could trust someone with A-Ying’s heart. I believe them to be a good match, Grandmaster.” Saying it that way feels too simple, as though he’d taken a single look at Lan Wangji and decided that he was good for his nephew, like he hadn’t considered the possibility of one or both of them breaking each other’s hearts.

“They are young, Xingchen, and Lans only love once, you know that don’t you?” Regret and envy both run underneath his grandmaster’s words like a river, her dark eyes turning wistful. Xiao Xingchen had heard the story of the Lan sect’s founder, Lan An, and at first, he’d thought it was romantic, he’d only come to understand the tragedy of it when he was older. “They could grow apart from each other.”

“They could also grow together.” Xiao Xingchen argues quickly, regaining his grip on his cup and forcing himself to drink the tea, though now, it was only lukewarm.

“Xingchen-”

“Mother-” Xiao Xingchen starts but catches himself, his head snapping up from his lap and to Baoshan Sanren’s face, his eyes wide as he breathes in deeply.

Xiao Xingchen expects his grandmaster’s face to be red when he looks up, he expects her to be annoyed with him at the very least, but he’s only met with the softest face she’s ever turned onto him. “You truly have faith in them, don’t you?”

Swallowing thickly, Xiao Xingchen nods, setting both of his hands on the table where she could see them now. “I do, I believe they compliment each other.” Xiao Xingchen refuses to allow himself to get quieter, reaching forward and refilling Baoshan Sanren’s cup before his own, his eyes flicking up to her face.

She looks thoughtful, as if she were turning something over and over in her mind like a particularly shiny stone. “They deserve a chance, if you have such faith in them.” It’s an admission if Xiao Xingchen had ever heard one leave his grandmaster’s mouth, her thumb running over the rim of her cup. “Your faith in them won’t stop me from giving that boy a shovel talk, no matter how many times you call me mother. It’s my right as Wei Ying’s grandmother.”

All the tension seeps out of Xiao Xingchen right then as he laughs, his shoulders dropping. “You gave one to Zichen, I’d hate for Lan Wangji to feel left out.” He and Song Lan had been married for a year and a half before he’d told Xiao Xingchen the specifics of the shovel talk he’d gotten from Baoshan Sanren.

Xiao Xingchen had only been able to look at him with wide eyed horror and then embarrassment.

~

“Are you gonna marry Xian-gege?” Qing Sanren asks as she comes to stand just inside Lan Wangji’s room, and Lan Wangji sets his hand across the strings of his guqin to silence them as he turns to face her. He hadn’t heard her come in and he’d only left the door to his room open because he and Wei Ying had been together earlier. Lan Wangji was determined to follow the rules set by Wei Ying’s uncles.

Qing Sanren watches him from the doorway, neither coming in nor running away now that she’s been caught while Lan Wangji struggles to answer her question.

“Did you hear me? I asked if you and Xian-gege are gonna get married.” She repeats herself, though hearing it again doesn’t make it any easier for Lan Wangji to answer her.

“One day, I would like to.” Lan Wangji answers haltingly, “If Wei Ying wanted the same.” Lan Wangji wouldn’t pretend that he hadn’t thought about it, but even in his own daydreams, their wedding was still a handful of years away.

His answer though, doesn’t seem to be what Qing Sanren wanted to hear from him, her face dropping off into a small frown. “Xian-gege said that Baba and A-Die got married when A-Die met Grandma, but you just met her, so shouldn’t you get married to Xian-gege now?” Blinking, Lan Wangji considers the words coming from Wei Ying’s seven year old sister, panic beginning to leave him as he lets his hand fall off the guqin.

“Your fathers were adults when they got married.” Lan Wangji explains simply, “Wei Ying and I are not yet.” That should be the end of it, but Qing Sanren lingers in his doorway still, her head cocked to the side as she considers it.

“Do you have to be a grown up to be married?” Qing Sanren asks, taking a further step into Lan Wangji’s room.

“Typically.” Lan Wangji answers, though another thought crosses his mind, “Sometimes two people might elope.” He lifts his hands back to the guqin strings then, expecting Qing Sanren to walk away and hopefully close the door behind her, but she doesn’t.

“What’s that mean?” Taking his hands away again, Lan Wangji debates whether or not to answer her, surely there wouldn’t be any harm in just telling her what it meant?

“It means that two people run away to get married, usually without their family’s permission.” Before his uncle had warmed to Wei Ying, Lan Wangji had considered the possibility of elopement, though by the end of Wei Ying’s time in Gusu, his uncle had warmed to him as much as he ever would.

Qing Sanren looks as though she’s about to ask another question, but Wei Ying appears behind her then, a sneaky smile spreading across his face as he lifts a single finger to his lips when Lan Wangji catches his eye.

Lan Wangji feels his chest warm almost immediately and manages to betray nothing, his fingers beginning to move over the guqin’s strings again. The corners of his mouth pull upwards when Wei Ying catches his sister up in his arms with a short shout, holding onto her and refusing to let her scramble away from him.

“Xian-gege!” She cries, letting herself hang limp in her brother’s arms, choosing to act as dead weight rather than fight against him like she usually did. “Baba told you not to scare me anymore!”

“That was yesterday!” Wei Ying argues with a laugh, and Lan Wangji feels something in his chest soften. “Besides, I don’t see Uncle Xiao anywhere, do you Lan Zhan?” Lan Wangji shouldn’t help Wei Ying tease his sister, he knows that, but once wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

“I do not, Qing Sanren is at her brother’s mercy.” Lan Wangji waves his guqin away, allowing himself to smile at Wei Ying as he finally releases Qing Sanren from his arms. She sprints away from him like an angry cat, her footfalls heavy in the hallway until they fade away completely.

Wei Ying stands in the doorway to watch her for a moment longer, the smile still on his face when he turns to look at Lan Wangji again. “She’s going to get us back for that, you know.”

“Mn, I will keep Wei Ying safe from his sister.” Lan Wangji promises, moving to the side when Wei Ying comes to sit down next to him, not caring one little bit about the three unoccupied sides of the table. Lan Wangji is half joking and half serious, he’d already seen what kind of tricks Qing Sanren was inclined to play.

Wei Ying laughs though, his smile making Lan Wangji flush with all the warmth of sitting in the sun. “My Lan Zhan takes such good care of me, defending me from A-Qing like that.” Wei Ying leans into him, their shoulders pressing together. The warmth and light pressure of it is welcome, Lan Wangji feels himself leaning into it before he can think twice about it.

“Were you playing something before A-Qing came in?” Wei Ying asks, pulling himself away from Lan Wangji by a fraction of an inch, though Lan Wangji misses him right away. “I thought I heard you, but I couldn’t figure out if you were learning a new cultivation piece.”

“Not cultivation music.” Lan Wangji answers, and says nothing else, though Wei Ying expects him to.

“Were you playing for fun, then? I didn’t think the Lan sect did that.”

“We do, but this song is not one of them.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying whines, crashing his shoulder into Lan Wangji’s again, though this time it’s gone just as quickly as it came. “At least tell me what it is!”

“Not yet, it isn’t finished.”

“But you’ll tell me when it is?”

“Mn.”

~

Song Lan is sitting up in bed by the time Xiao Xingchen returns, dragging a hand through his unbound hair to comb it back as Xiao Xingchen shuts the door. “Where did you go? I woke up and you were gone.” Song Lan asks, still sounding as if he were half asleep.

Xiao Xingchen sits at the foot of the bed, their knees pressing together as he tries his best to try and summarize the last few hours. “Sect Leader Wen came to offer her condolences.” Xiao Xingchen starts, keeping things simple before they became a complicated knot of words. Song Lan nods along with it, his face falling for just a moment before he pulls it back, allowing Xiao Xingchen to take his hand and hold onto it. “And then A-Ying and Lan Wangji brought my grandmaster with them when they came back from their walk with A-Qing.”

For all the effort Xiao Xingchen had put into saying it casually, he still feels Song Lan’s hand tense in his, any and all sleepiness evaporating from his face. “Baoshan Sanren is here? She’s not hurt, is she?” His husband’s words come out quickly and Xiao Xingchen waves them off just as fast, explaining what had happened as best he could and hoping that he wasn’t forgetting any details in the meantime.

By the time he’s finished, both of Song Lan’s hands are wrapped around one of his, while the other strokes through Song Lan’s hair. It’s meant to soothe him, but Xiao Xingchen isn’t sure it’s working as he watches his husband process the mountain of information he’d just piled in front of him.

“Where do we go from here? The Burial Mounds or Gusu?” Song Lan asks finally, his hands tightening, his eyes burning into the quilt.

“I’m not sure yet,” Xiao Xingchen confesses, shaking his head and letting his free hand drop to his husband’s cheek, “usually I discuss this sort of thing with my husband, but I thought it better to let him rest a while longer.”

Song Lan chuckles, but doesn’t smile, instead, he takes one hand off of Xiao Xingchen’s and lifts it to his other wrist, his fingers curling tightly around it. “Your husband can’t sleep without you anymore.” Song Lan admits, stroking his thumb over Xiao Xingchen’s pulse. “We should go to Gusu first, we can’t risk him getting his hand on another piece of the Yin Iron.” Nodding, Xiao Xingchen strokes his thumb back and forth over the apple of Song Lan’s cheek.

“Are you hungry? I could have something brought up.” He offers, the need to fret and look after his husband coming back the second their next destination is decided. He’d eaten with his grandmaster, and once he’d been allowed to leave her room, he’d made sure A-Qing, Wei Ying, and Lan Wangji had all eaten, making his rounds until he’d finally been able to return to his own room.

“Just tired,” Song Lan says, shaking his head and looking past Xiao Xingchen again.

“Should I put you back to bed now that I’m back?” Xiao Xingchen smiles sadly, he knows he should ask Song Lan to try and eat something, something small, but he can’t make himself deny his husband rest when he asks for it.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” Song Lan asks, not fighting back in the smallest way when Xiao Xingchen begins to press him back down into the bed, his arms reaching up and wrapping around Xiao Xingchen to pull him down as well.

“I will.” Xiao Xingchen says, moving himself until Song Lan can lay his head against his shoulder, “I promise.”

[nightwingshero]

"Next time I'll hit you like I mean it" for Jane pleaseee? 🥺✨

Thank you sweetie!! Have some Jane canon!!! I just want to make it clear that I am not at all responsible for the damage she causes. She is who she is. 

It was fucking annoying. But if I was being honest, there wasn’t much that wasn’t nowadays. Even as I sat there with my feet propped up on one of our supply boxes, I couldn’t help but dig my knife into the wooden table next to me as they carried on. Even as Randy stood off in the distance, too preoccupied playing fetch with his new pitbull John had gifted him. Blue was about a year now, and she was so full of energy and getting so big. I couldn’t wait to see her once she was older, even though I would never admit it.

I watched in distaste as the others carried in supplies for John, stacking things neatly in his hanger. It annoying, watching over shit like this when there were more important matters at hand, like the Reaping that had just started. I had insisted we take back Fall’s End, that we could easily do it. And eyeing my sniper rifle leaning against a crate, I felt that familiar urge again. This time I would drag Fairgrave out myself, kicking and screaming if I had to. But John had decided not to, insisting that the new Sinner—the new heretic—wasn’t one we needed to concern ourselves with. Just a rookie deputy that was still green around the edges, someone that didn’t know what the fuck she was doing. It was amusing to me slightly, that the so-called Resistance trusted someone so inexperienced to spearhead this. Perhaps it would be easier to take them out now, all things considering. Either way, I was ready to test those boundaries, to see what made her so damn perfect to be a leader. I was ready to knock her ass down a peg.

“Viking Princess looks displeased, does she demand a sacrifice to appease her?” Randy teased as he approached, using the rope to play tug a war with the puppy.

“Shut up, Randy.”

“Pissed off, indeed.” He smirked. “What do yah got up your ass this time?”

I glared at him then, the mischief dancing in his light blue green eyes as I wondered how fast I could cut his face to pieces. It wasn’t as if we haven’t fought before, enough to know that I was at a disadvantage…for now. His size and experience in fighting outweighed mine, but I knew I would better him. I would take him the fuck down and see who the fuck was smiling then, with this face bloody in the ground. “Fuck off.”

Raising his brow, he pulled a chair out and straddled it, his eyes shifting to the few members that were doing most of the work. It was one of his fancy days, dressed in a button up and waistcoat. The Chosen always got special treatment, and when you were John’s, you were really special. Being John’s righthand had given us privileges…like not dressing like a fucking homeless person. I preferred a tank top and jeans, it was easier to move in, it was more practical and made more fucking sense to me.

“Y’know…you could just work that shit out, mate. Go punch a tree or something.” My grip on my knife tightened as I stabbed the table again, this time with more force than before. “Ain’t no reason for scarin’ everybody.”

“They can fuck off.” I muttered. It was infuriating. And maybe the problem was that I was stuck here, overlooking low-leveled members when I could have been out there, fighting and bringing people in like I was trained to do. What was the point of being one of the best marksmen in the fucking county when I couldn’t even use it? Or perhaps part of it was because I was itching to fight her. It was only a matter of time before our paths would cross again, and I knew exactly where she would be holed up. After her father died, that’s all she ever fucking did. Visit her father’s memorial at that fucking church.

I couldn’t wait until John gave the order to destroy them.

“They’re taking to fucking long. It’s annoying. And why the fuck are we here when we can be out there?” I spat bitterly, throwing a glare at one a younger guy, his eyes immediately cast down as he hurried past and out of my line of sight. “What’s the fucking point of this bullshit?”

“Supplies are important.” Randy answered as he lightly tossed the rope, Blue quickly running after it. “And we’re Chosen. Not a Priestess, not a hunter—”

“Who would wanna work with Jacob anyway?” I scoffed, my foot pushing against the crate and tilting my chair on the back legs. “Have you fucking been up there? Couldn’t handle the training he gave, can’t imagine workin’ for his ass. I’d scar that face up more than it already is.”

“Easy there, Scarface. You almost became one of his.” He threw me a smirk and I knew he was messing with me, doing what he could to poke and get me riled up. It wouldn’t fucking work though, not this fucking time.

“Almost became one of hers too, but could you fucking imagine? Rainbows and sunshine. Iced teas and fucking brownies. Fuck that shit. I don’t need that fucking overly sweet southern belle trying to make me smile all the damn time. She fucking hugged me last time.”

“Hmm. The Mother’s not so bad.”

“Pretty sure she poisoned Brady and almost got Miss Mable.”

“That a bad thing?” he laughed. “Mable is someone I can live without. You meet Brady? Asshat.”

I rolled my eyes at him and made a face. “She makes my teeth fucking rot. And she’s touchy. I don’t fucking like touchy.”

“But you’ll let Faith braid flowers in your hair.”

Grabbing the nearest glass, I chucked it at his head and watched in frustration as he skillfully dodged it. I didn’t know what I was expecting, it was so fucking him. Perfect fucking Randy, with his beard and muscular frame. His eyes found mine again, his small smile not widening even the slightest before he pulled the rope away from Blue and threw it again. “Fuck. You.”

My hand twitched on the knife that was still protruding from the table, wishing nothing more than to fucking fight someone, to go after Grace or that fucking deputy. Anything but to sit here, watching as everything fucking went on without us. When was the last time we got into a good fight? When was the last time I saw Randy beat someone until his fists ran red? I was tired of being on the sidelines while our people were constantly being attacked, constantly at war. It was bullshit that I was just used to babysit when I could do so much fucking more, I was better than this shit.

My mood only seemed to worsen when the next person came in, her honey blonde hair falling perfectly over her shoulders, her head held high as if she owned the fucking place. I sneered as Holly looked around, her arrogance dripping off of her. Once upon a time we had gotten along a bit, which I suppose for me it just meant I hadn’t threatened to fucking kill her. Randy had defended her, people said, in a bar from her abusive husband. This was when John had been talking to her, slowly convincing her to join us. Which only led to him bailing Randy out that fateful night…and a few years later, we were here. Giving me plenty of time to know that I was tempted to rip her extensions out from time to time.

“She’s sleeping with Johnny again.” Randy sighed as Blue ran back, her front paws on his leg to hold herself up as he pets her, cooing praises.

“Shocker.” I muttered as I dug the knife out roughly. “Probably because poor Holly couldn’t snag her a place next to the Father. She wants a fucking position and thinks being the Baptist’s wife is gonna fall in her lap because she blows him. Fucking Holly.” After giving a quick look around, her eyes fell on us and an overly sweet smile spread across her face. I suddenly longed for the presence of the Mother in comparison.

“Hey, y’all! How yah doin’?”

Fucking Christ.

“Holly.” Randy gave a polite smile in return, a slight nod as he gave attention to the excited puppy tugging on the rope. Satisfied with the attention from him, she looked at me expectantly, her smile becoming tight. My chin tilts, holding my head high as I stared her down, daring her and showing her that I wasn’t playing her fucking game. I wasn’t her friend, I wasn’t gonna cater to her. She wasn’t my fucking Herald, no matter how badly she wanted to be.

“Well hey there, Jane.” She called, finally breaking the silence between us. I moved my feet, allowing my chair to fall back onto the floor on all fours again. Eyeing her up and down, I gently slid my knife back in place. John wouldn’t be too happy if I impulsively stabbed her, and I wasn’t taking any chances. I would behave…for now.

“Surprised to see you out here considering I never see you do any heavy lifting.” I replied, enjoying the way her face turned a bit pink. Pride swelled as I smirked at her.

Finally recovering, she scoffed. “Well, it seems that all your heavy lifting is going just fine.” She offered a pointed look at Randy as she put her hands on her hips as her words dripped with condescension. “You really are Sloth, aren’t you? Just sitting there when you can put those muscles of yours to actual use.”

It happened too fast for her, but I was in her face the next second, making her stumble back in shock as I glared at her. Randy watched quietly and I knew he was trying to tell me to ease up, to not let me be ruled by the pride that felt wounded on his behalf. But I wasn’t going to allow this, not when she owed him. Not when she needed to know her motherfucking place. So, I followed her stumble, taking a menacing step forward as the others stopped to watch.

She was trembling underneath her façade, her eyes wide as she tried to stand strong. It looked pathetic on her, it didn’t fit right on her. Not the way it was with the Heralds, not with Whitney, let alone on of the Chosen. Holly didn’t deserve the entitlement she reeked of. She earned nothing. I sneered in her face, our noses coming close to touching. The creak of his chair tells me he’s tensing, Randy’s own way of reminding me where we are, reminding me that I need to keep it together. I just wanted to claw her fucking eyes out. Just a little bit. Just enough to draw blood, to make her blind, to make understand that I wasn’t someone to fuck with.

“Most of your work is done behind closed doors, Holly. I would say watch your fucking mouth, but I think we’re both well fucking aware of what comes in and out of it.” Her mouth hangs open as she gaps at me like a fucking fish, taken aback by the crude and direct words that I’ve spoken. It makes me want to laugh at her. “Remember who’s in charge here. Last time I checked, we’re the Chosen. Fucking John doesn’t give you power here, don’t even fucking try.”

I wanted her to swing. I wanted her to give me a fucking reason to drop her, I was practically shaking for it. Violence vibrated in my veins, making me run hot. Another creak from his chair as he shifts, a subtle clearing of his throat, and I know I need to walk it off. Perimeter check was probably due, Randy could easily watch over this to make sure everything was in order. Maybe I could work of the frustration. Maybe I would see someone and be able to use my fucking rifle for once.

With one last glance over her, looking down at her, I turn away with the intention of grabbing my gun. I could make Randy pay me back later, giving me his best whiskey at his cabin while we sat around the fire. He fucking owed me for this. Biting my tongue until I was sure I could taste the iron of my own blood. The temptation to spit it in her face is one I have to shove down hard. Her scoff stops me though, makes me listen careful as her nasally voice echoes through the hangar as everyone hold their breath.

“Bitch, you fucking wish you could. You’re just jealous that nobody fucking wants you. Grace didn’t want you, your own husband didn’t fucking want you. Best you can do is this washed-up lumberjack—"

Years of ballet. That’s what it is, and I wouldn’t ever fucking admit that shit to anyone. But that’s how I’m able to turn on my toes so quickly. It’s how I’m able to throw my elbow in her face as swiftly as I do. I didn’t care what anyone fucking said, dancing gave you a fighting advantage. Cardio, flexibility, speed, balance…it was useful in moments like this. She jerked back, her eyes squeezing shut as she tried to process, but I wasn’t giving her the time to. Finishing my turn, I reach out and grab the back of her head with my other hand, quickly slamming her face against the table. I smiled when I hear the satisfying crunch, that’s when I let her go and watch as she slips to the floor on her back. There’s blood from her broken nose and busted mouth, running down her face. Finally.

Her hands cup her nose, covering her face as her scream pierces the air, and even though it’s muffled by her hands, it was enough to carry through the hangar and I’m sure it could have been heard outside. I just hoped that John had decided to keep his damn office windows closed. Randy sighed as he calmed Blue, and I just glared down at her, towering over her with clenched fists. “Let this be a fucking warning to you, Pepper. I do not care to be fucked with, and I fucking dare you to pull that shit again. Because next time?” A humorless laugh escapes my lips as I sneer. "Next time I'll hit you like I mean it." Giving her one more onceover, I turn back and see the others gapping at me, completely shocked and a bit terrified. Good. “What the fuck are you doing? Brother John needs this shit done, get it done!” I snapped, making them scramble and collect themselves as they continued moving supplies in.

Randy follows me instead of staying behind, Blue nipping at the edges of my trenchcoat as we walk, the incident completely forgotten. He gave me a side glance as he crossed his arms. “Johnny boy ain’t gonna like that.”

“John’s judgement is obviously clouded, Randy.” I scoffed. “Someone needs to fix that for him.”

[hazbinextgeneration]

Into The Casino Ch16

(WARNING: Fight scenes including hair pulling and a death is contained within this chapter as well as past abuse mentioned. If this makes you uncomfortable please don't read. You have been warned.) What happened on the way home was..Well...Interesting to say the least. The strange warm feeling in his chest still hadn't gone away even after they were leaving. The gal feeling exhausted enough to fall asleep against his shoulder and ONLY because he was a gentleman, he wrapped an arm around her and allowed her to lean against him on the way home. Cyber was a little confused on his silence and the face he made as he glanced out the window on the way back, but she chalked it up to him calculating about the new possible deals he could make or perhaps maybe he was thinking about how to con someone over again. He had that hard thinking face over him and it was best to let him think at times. So she didn't argue when the limo finally stopped in front of their home, and he lightly shook the sleeping beauty awake. Her purple eyes blinking and she yawned tiredly, and he told Cyber to go take her back and make sure she got some rest. Thankfully Leaving Minight in charge with Disease following her orders was a grand idea. No harm was done to the place while they were gone. ....Sleep didn't come easy to him that night surprisingly but he managed. The next day was like it didn't even happen. In fact it was very normal. He got up, gave the usually orders to everyone who would get their assignments from him and told her the small list of personal things he needed her to be done that day. Which included cleaning out his office, but he made sure that all the valuable souls were very well secured and locked away where only he or Cyber could retrieve them. She smiled brightly and agreed as usually before trotting on her merry way...but this time that small warm feeling returned...he shrugged it off and continued onto the floor with Cyber. Business as usually.

Except the day after that the small feeling happened again. And again. And Again. And again. AND AGAIN!! Before he knew it nearly a month had passed with that strange small warm feeling in his chest was still there whenever he spoke to her, but he simply ignored it as he had better things to get done. Until one day he had a knock at the office door. He looked to the door for a moment before looking back down to the papers in his hands.

"Come in. Door's open." Well the door did open and in stepped the timid creature. He was a bit surprised she of all people would come in at this time of day, but he gave that famous smile none the less. "Aw, Pet.~ Hello, my dear. What can I do for you today? Is Disease bothering you again?"

She didn't answer straight away, but still gave a small smile. "N-No. I actually wanted to ask you something.''

"Ask away my dear! Im always happy to hear from you." Her question wasn't really something he would be expecting.

As she sheepishly rubbed her arm and looked everywhere but him. "A-Actually, I-I was wondering if you'd ever want to go dancing with me again s-sometime. I-It was really fun and I-" She looked back to him with a small smile. "I think..I want t-to get to know you better."

Well...that certainly was unexpected, but that just meant more progress! So he happily grinned politely as her sweet offer to him. "Darling. Of course! I would be delighted to spend time with you." His red eyes glanced to the grandfather on the otherside of the office before glancing back to her. "Tell you what. Why don't you join me for tea in an hour? We'll have plenty of time to talk then."

Her ears perked up with a bigger smile. "R-Really? S-Sure. I'd really like that."

He chuckled. "Very well then. In the meantime, do be a dear and fetch me another cup of coffee, will you? This business deal won't straighten itself out."

She happily agreed and he was eventually rewarded with a new steaming mug of coffee and he was happily looking through the papers he held within his hands as the clock clicked away on the wall across from them. Instead of leaving as soon as she gave him the mug, she stayed and looked curiously to the papers he held with innocent naivity. Oh it made him chuckle.

"What are you dealing with this time?" An innocent enough question.

"The owner of the winery next door has offered to sell it to me, but getting a hold of him is as easy as putting a fire out with gas." Which meant it wasn't easy at all. What could the fool possibly be doing that was so much more important than selling him the dam place if he offered in the first place?!

She made an 'oh' and blinked back to him. "Well I think it'd be a great addition to the casino."

"Is that right?"

She nodded. "Absolutely! With your business managing skills I bet you could connect the two easily. Maybe even open up a second larger bar inside it. Those are pretty popular as I've heard." Her brows furrowed in thought. "But maybe not make it so smoke ridden or blast that ridiculous excuse for music around, not a lot of people like those places. By the looks of all your friends at the party I'd say a few of them would pay a pretty penny to have one place around here that wasn't so....exotic like Rita's." She didn't even notice Lou had stopped midway through a sip and looked up at her. "With Midnight's potion making, you could probably even make your own brand and sell it too! Plus if you expanded the winery to double the size and enhanced the magical power of turning grapes into wine, I bet you'd get a lot more customers. A lot of people would like real authentic wine made from real grapes like on the surface instead of..how did Disease put it? 'Cheap gunk water'? And since you'd be able to grow your own grapes and own the brewery, you'd be able to make yourself some as well with no cost at all." She turned to him with a smile but paused seeing his face. "Oh..I-Im sorry. W-Was I talking too much?"

"..No. No actually. All those sounds like marvelous ideas!" He smiled before sipping that bitter tasting drink.

"Really?!"

He chuckled again. "But of course. But I am curious. Where did you learn all your business know how anyhow? I know you explained your father was a prominent business man, probably not as successful as yours truly, but by what you told me about him and your past, he didn't seem too keen on letting a lady such as you keep on the family business. No offense."

Her eyes glanced down for a moment. "He-...He often dragged me along to..c-certain business meetings if he knew someone had a son. I heard a lot at those places."

He glanced up at her for a moment. "....And I am to assume he only brought you along to use you as some kind of token in case he saw an opportunity to use you to get information from said sons? Or am I assuming something too large?"

"No. You're p-pretty spot on. He didn't see me for anything else."

"What of your mother?" If she was spilling information, he might as well get as much as he could get from her. Never know when it might come in handy.

She shrugged. "I don't know. My parents got divorced when I was a baby and she...s-she left me with him. N-Never met her."

"Oh, I see....Well I am sorry for your situation." He went back to his papers with another sip.

"Thank you..." She looked at him. "What was your family like?"

He paused...before blinking and looking back up to her. "My family?" She nodded and he went silent for a moment. ".....They were...terrible people let's say. A gambling man and his not so wonderful wife is what resulted in myself."

"Is that why you're so good at running a casino?"

He chuckled. Oh if only she really knew the many nights he was forced from a young age to stand watch as his father and his 'friends' gambled any and all money away, drinking away their sorrows. Of course he never did, instead he was much more interested in what the men did with the cards. And eventually he swiped a deck himself and began practicing when he was bored, which lead to him developing his own tricks. His own destiny carved out by himself. And the name he made back on the surface. He sometimes wondered if his name was still up there somewhere besides obviously on a tombstone. Were there any records of himself from his bloody gang wars? Probably not because then he was still nothing but a small fish in a big pond, but you could imagine his surprise when he woke up to him tumbling down and hitting the sidewalk hard when he first got here. Confused as all hell but quickly able to recover. He had to claw his way up the ranks and fought tooth and nail to get there, but it all paid off now didn't it. Hard work always paid off in the end in his experience. Sometimes he wondered what his poor parents faces would be if they could see him now? An overlord of hell and richer than they would ever dream! That's the difference between him and them. He was smart with his money and knew how to play the game.

"You could say so. But I like to believe it's more thanks to my natural ability to spot the obvious good things in life before they slip away.~"

"Oh. Well I'd say you have a wonderful ability!"

He chuckled more at her politeness. "Thank you. But now I believe I promised that tea."

Things were FINALLY starting to look more progressive with Midnight's assignment as over the next few days she was finally able to restore them to their (almost) original state and they looked a lot cleaner than when he first got them. He was pleased none the less, but she told him they'd need to test them which was a small problem. Obviously he couldn't let anyone know he had them for confidential reasons, so it'd be a bit tricky. But he would figure it out later. He was making great progress bout everywhere it seemed. The pretty pet wanted to spend more time with him and he was happily to oblige, sometimes for tea, other times for that promised dancing he promised. He was surprised to find out she knew the jitterbug and charleton, though it was quite obvious she was still rusty. He was happy to escort her through the small steps and be close to her-..Uh! I mean to get her to easily go with what he said of course. It had nothing to do with her giggles or the surprise squeaks she'd make when he surprised her, or the fact she basically enjoyed the same things he did. It was just because he enjoyed dancing and it was nice to have someone compliment his singing and dancing skills. But it certainly stroked his ego as Midnight would oh so lovely put it. She wasn't...bad to have around. Compliments and politeness aside, she was very down to earth and ..surprisingly passionate. Actually dimallishing Rita's bar when he asked her what could be better about it. He laughed and honestly wondered what Rita would think if she knew someone as weak as her thought her place was a 'smelly bin of smoke and sweat that needed a few windows and MORE than just a few scented candles'.

Well after that little laugh he knew just the position to promote her to. So when he called her up to come to his office, she was pretty surprised when he explained why.

She blinked. "Personal asisntant?"

He hummed and nodded. "That's right, Dear! I feel as if merely being a secretary was ..undermining your abilities. You'd still have your duties AS my secretary but with more duties added on. But I promise the extra work would be worth the effort."

"What exactly are they?"

"You'd be entrusted with taking care of my more personal property. For example you're now in charge of making sure my space her is always in order and things are where I can find them, you'd be in charge of making sure my meals are delivered, and of course as my right hand asistant you'd be accompying me on business if it calls for it. But if it sounds too much too soon for you, I'll gladly just not give the promotion."

And wouldn't you know it. Hook. Line. And sinker. He made it seemed like something much better than it was and of course she agreed right away it would be a fantastic idea. And the next day she got too it. If there was another thing he could say about her it was that it was she was a hard worker, and she worked her tail off to prove she earned that little spot. Or maybe it was because some part of her still felt scared or intimidated by him. Didn't matter for now. Progress was being made throughout. She would still flinch lightly when he wrapped an arm around her or patted her back, but it was MUCH better than before. Couldn't say the same thing about everyone else or big crowds. She still was timid around those and that was just fine with him. The less interaction beyond his little crew the better. He gets to spend more time with her and vise versa! Everyone wins. Especially him. Though there was still a matter of that small warm feeling that wasn't really that small anymore, and he had a sneaking feeling as to what it could've possibly been, but he still pushed the unimportant thing aside for now. Right now he had FINALLY gotten a hold of the man who wanted to sell him the place and it was certainly about time. He should have the documents on his next business run. Which would happen to be his little pet's first one with him to be exact. Not anywhere special, just the casino floor. Laughing, cheers, and music filled the air within the casino as demons of all kinds gambled their money away or drank themselves drunk. A usual day for the casino staff....Well, almost everyone. The clicking of hooves made their way down the hallway towards the more noisier side of the whole casino. The woman flipped through the many papers piled within her arms. She finally pulled one from the back, scanning her eyes over it before looking up at the person walking next to her smiling nervously. "T-The deed to the winery next door has successfully been obtained like you wanted." The taller male smiled down at her. "Excellent!" He snatched the document from her and smirked down at it. "With this we'll no longer have to rely on cheap black market booze. How much have we left in stock, Pet?" Her ears went back at the nickname, but answered, "I....don't know. I haven't looked yet." He hummed and gave her a look. "Go ask Rouge, that beer bug ought to give you the answer, then get back to me."

Her eyes blinked confused up at him and she rose a brow. "Rouge?"

A sudden realization came over him and he sighed. "Oh, yes! You two haven't properly been introduced yet! Silly me!" From where they were standing he pointed a hand across the giant room where she could barely make out the bar. "Rouge is one of my floor managers but she mostly just handles the many bars and kitchen areas I have around here. You can't miss her really. She really bugs you persay." He chuckled..but sighed again at her still confused face. "She's a bug demon. Green hair, wings- You can't miss her."

"Oh. I see."

"Yes, now be a dear and ask her how much stock we have so I can calculate how soon we can easily use my newly obtained purchase.~" A red claw was extended to pull back a stray gold hair from her face. She visibly flinched at the touch and stopped an her purple eyes darted at him. He only chuckled and leaned forward a little. "You can do that. Can't you, Pet?~" She gulped and managed to not stutter despite the heat in her face. "Of course I can." His hand patter her cheek before retracting back and chuckling. "I thought so.~ Now-" He began walking again with her quickly following behind. "-I must go speak with a very important client. No go find Rouge. She'll give you what you need." "Yes, Sir." He often used nicknames with her and very flirty gestures, but after working for him for a couple months she got used to it....Kinda. He seemed to get a chuckle out of seeing her squirm and those god forbidden squeak sounds she made. Though putting up with his antics was better than fighting for survival on the streets. Even if it meant her hand. They came to the end of the hallway where the loud sounds of music and voices were. Without so much but a side smile at her, he turned to the left and quickly disappeared among the crowd of other demons. She watched after him for a moment, but soon went the opposite way. It wasn't comfortable being around so many possibly dangerous demons, but most were too busy with their games to pay attention to her. The ones that DID she knew stared at her body(or more specifically her exposed leg or horn). She made the mistake of looking into the face of one of her 'admirers' as she walked past. The grimy man visibly smirked at her and licked his fangs.....which made her cringe, duck her head, and pick up her pace. The bar couldn't be far now, right? ....Right! The bar wasn't as crowded as he thought it'd be, but it was still pretty packed. In the middle of it all was the flutter of green wings as the insect demon passed out drinks fast with ease. Years of experience right there. And she blinked. That must've been the Rouge Lou was telling her about. She didn't notice her at first, but (when she got close enough) Rouge smiled in her direction and placed her hands on the counter as she sat down. "Hey there, Fuzzy. You here for a drink?" She gestured to the wide shelves behind her. "We got lots of choices to choose from, so pick your poison." She smiled and took a seat. "N-No. Lou wanted to know how much alcohol was left in stock." Rouge rose a brow in confusion and she remembered that they hadn't been introduced yet. So not one for being rude, she stuck a hand out. "I-I-Im Amalfia. Your coworker? Im sure we hadn't met." She still looked confused before she gave a knowing smile and grabbing her hand. "Oh yeah! I recognize your name from Disease telling me all about you and the big guy spending some time together." She smiled before looking down at the paperwork she held then back to her. "Someone's been busy." She brought her arms up to rest them and the papers on the bar and gave a smile. "It's not that bad. It's certainly better than doing laundry o-or sweeping the floors, b-but Im just here because he wants to know how much stock you all have left." She snorted. "With all the chores he makes ya do, I'm surprised he doesn't dress you up in a mad outfit." Instead of getting the suggestive joke, the unicorn cocked her head to the side in confusion. "Why would he have me do that? I'm pretty sure he already has cleaning staff." "...Never mind." She waved a hand dismissively before leaning off the counter. "You said you wanted to know the booze level. Alright. It'll take me a couple minutes though." "I can wait." "Alright. HEY!" Her head snapped to the right as she shouted. Another demon glared at her from the other side of the bar. "Cover me for a bit. I need something from the back." Rouge left without another word, disappearing through a door between the two shelves of alcohol as the other bartender kept serving the demons that came. Leaving her surrounding by patrons grumbling for their drinks or passed out drunk on the bar. It was fine though. She was usually left alone if she just kept her eyes down and didn't engage with anyone. This wasn't the case though. As she busied herself by flipping through the small stack of papers in her hands, she barely noticed someone sit n the stool next to her, which really wasn't a big deal. It was a free bar after all. What she did notice however was the sudden ever so light feeling of someone touching her leg- "DON'T TOUCH ME!!" Her body reacted far faster than her mouth did. Whipping around towards the danger, her body on high alert from the unwanted invasion of her personal space. Sitting there was the very same demon she'd made the mistake of seeing. Her shout had seemed to catch the attention of some others around her though. The demon smiled and stared down at her like she was a prime steak. Unintentionally, she swallowed and leaned away. She probably looked more scared than she would've liked. "I-I....I don't like strangers touching m-me. Please g-go away." At this, he chuckled and leaned down eye level. "I remember you-" Her eyes visibly widened at this, and her nose wrinkled up. His breath smelt like an unwashed dumpster. He pointed a finger before saying, "Don't you remember me?..It took me a while to figure out where you were after running into me at that d*mmed club. But seeing you on the arm of that rich boy, it didn't take too long after that." She sat there frozen. "I-I...I'm really s-s-sorry, Sir, if you think that. B-But Im sorry."

He leaned his head back in laughter before hissing and leaning closer to her. "You REALLY don't recognize me, do you? I would've thought an empty headed gal like you would've made it somewhere more innocent for that pretty little head of yours. Guess not. Suits me just fine. Wouldn't you say?...Dorothy?"

She absolutely froze. Ice was traveling through her veins and his smile got wider at her absolutely terrified face. "...no." Was all she was able to force out of her terrified form at the rush of her realization and old name hit her harder than a freight train- A sudden shriek cut from her throat as something had grabbed a large fistful of her poor blonde and white hair and pulled her head back. Her hand immediately flew up to the giant hand and began to claw at it to no avail. He somehow got closer to her face. "Y'know...It's been a long time since I last saw you. Thought you still seen the last of me huh?" Her body coursed with pain as her brain screamed for his unwanted touch to go away. To not let it happen again. "Let go of me! Put me down!" Her body thrashed against the iron grip of her captor which made him raise his hand higher, dragging her from her seat. She screamed and started kicking her legs out. The commotion caught the attention of a whole lot of others, but most seemed more entertained by the fight than concerned for her. By this point she thought her head would pop off with how much it hurt. Her kicking had already sent her papers all over the ground below them. "I wonder how much a second owned horse would go for-" Another hand pressed her cheek. "A pure little thing like you would be worth a lo-AAAAHHH!!" The squirming flesh in her mouth tasted horrible, but something told her to keep her teeth clamped down. The demon cursed and pulled against her. Pushing her head back further.

"What THE F*CK are you doing?!" The female voice and the demanding tone behind it was enough to make the male demon stop and look down. By some miracle, Rouge had returned, probably hearing their screams, and was glaring at him with enough bite to put a cobra to shame. Her eyes flashed to her crying, squirming body held up by him for one split second. "....Okay, you burnt cherry lookin' mothaf*cker. You have one second to put Fuzzy down before I shove a bottle up your a$$." "Mind your own f*cking business!" Her jaw's grip had loosened in the few seconds after Rouge's return, so it was easy to finally slip his hand free to point at the much smaller demon and start yelling at her. Which gave her only a few moments to react. It was obvious this guy was physically stronger and wasn't planning on letting her go anytime soon. She sure as h*ll wasn't going back to being his to boss around. Not after so many years of FINALLY getting away. Not having to look over her shoulder, finally enjoying herself for once in her entire existance. She wouldn't go back to that enclosed prison again. So, in her panicked state, there was one very obvious solution- "LOU!!," she shrieked at the top of her lungs. Drowning out any other sound from her brain, "LOU, HELP!!" The tears dulled her vision somewhat so the next moments were a bit blurry, but no one could miss the obvious chair that came flying out of nowhere and collided with him full force. Sending them both to the floor. The sudden release from her hair was a relief compared to the smack to the floor....but it was better than being held in mid air. Her head tingled with dulled pain still, but there was no time to linger on that when a demonic cry and gagging sounds came next to her. Once again her body reacted before her conscious brain did and she sat up and away....and her eyes widened. The demon was the one making the gagging noises and flailing about like a fish out of water. The clawing at his neck directed her to the green rope like appendage firmly wrapped around it. Small red spikes dotted along it's sides. Before another shot out of no where above her making her whimper and duck as another red spiked green rope wrapped around the struggling demon's hand, and another grabbing his other hand. His red snout which didn't look good from the chair colliding with him, was held firmly shut as the green things wrapped him more than a mummy until he could barely move and was dropped to the floor in front of her. Another screech got her attention as well as some others. Her purple eyes widened at who was screeching. "Lou?" The plant demon was transfixed on the still choking demon. A fixture of rage and something she couldn't quite place on his face. He seemed to also be struggling as Cyber was death gripping his waist to hold back the snarling beast. "Lou, STOP! That's enough!" He didn't stop. "LOU!!" He froze. Everything seemed to freeze for those few agonizing moments...before his body slowly began to relax back and he blinked. "......Lou?" His head snapped to the unicorn looking up at him from the ground with a confused gaze....then around at all the patrons still watching- He quickly straightened up, reaching to fix his bowtie and hat, as if it never happened, before snapping his fingers. The vine around the guy's neck loosened and slunk away leaving him hacking and coughing. She let out a loud squeak as more vines wrapped around her suddenly and hoisted her up and over towards the two. There, she was firmly placed next to him and she gladly went behind the plant demon. He rose a brow at the fightened shaking lady as she death dripped his shirt and those purple eyes stared in absolute fear at the man gasping for breath on the floor before he hissed up at them.

"You little b*tch! Hiding behind that stupid fatcat like he's some shield for your petty little behind! You never could be stronger than me could you!? You were always too weak to do anything!!"

Now, he had made a gave mistake. He was willing to just beat him to a pulp and leave him on the streets, after all no one made a sceen in his casino without consequences and he was already in such a foul, but what had just come out of his mouth seemed to make a difference. A hiccup escaped from behind him and he slowly turned his raised brow to the woman now pressing her face to his back, not daring to look up. "Is he...?"

Her whimper was and what he had just said confirmed on just who this man was. Well, well. This day had just gotten interesting, now didn't it? What a stupid, stupid move for this poor soul to make. Lou slowly turned his gaze back to the struggling form of the cursing man in front of him. Oh he knew EXACTLY what to do with him.

"Cyber. Take this lowlife trash to Midnight, and keep him there until I come up." He turned back to the terrorfied female behind him before reaching an arm behind him and pulling her from behind him to his side. "You are coming with me." Cyber gave him an overly confused look with a," Uh. Sure, Boss." She watched silently as Lou led the horrified gal away from the cussing man and watching crowd and without so much as another word, she blankly looked down to the guy trapped in vines and rose a brow as he uselessly dug his grave by cussing her out. With ease she grabbed the vine cocooned man and threw him over her shoulder. Rolling her eyes as he cussed and screamed his way through the crowed. Leaving Rouge there extremely confused to the events that just played out. ".....Da f*ck just happened?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It took a while for him to calm her down from her very obvious panic attack which left her clinging and crying into him for the longest time as he shushed her and attempted to sooth her over like how Midnight would sooth Disease in one of his moments. Eventually she was able to get a hold of herself and just sat there in his grip hiccupping and wiping at her face for a while. When he thought she was able to be steady by herself he finally let go and she didn't make any protests when he did. Just try to pull herself together from the ordeal. Which left him to sigh and finally to go and sit in his chair for a while- He groaned and reached up to rub at his temples. The soft office chair hugged his slumped over body as he racked his brain. A small thump from the desk made him open his eyes and noticed the small white cup that was placed in front of him. The smell of coffee and weed killer filled the air, and on top of it all was the smiling face of the unicorn. "Thank you." He grabbed it before chugging it down half way. She gave him a bigger smile. "I thought you'd want that after the fight back there." He dryly chuckled. Oh, yes. The fight. He honestly didn't know what to think of it all. One moment he was casually talking up one of his more richer clients, alomost sealed the deal too, when the first screams rang out. At first, he didn't pay much attention to it, if there was a fight then the bouncers would take care of it. That's what they were paid for. What he DID pay attention to was the screaming of his name- "LOU!! LOU, HELP!!" You could say he snapped around faster than a bullet. Completely confused to who could've been shouting for him- Until he saw it. The struggling form of Amalfia struggling against a sickly cherry red demon with his hand gripping her hair. What happened next was something he couldn't quite explain. It was almost like someone flipped a switch and red clouded his vision. Though throwing a chair and making a scene in front of his customers was a blur, he would've never done that otherwise. Something his head couldn't wrap around he supposed. The only logical thing he could come to was that he became overly angry at having his pretty little weapon in danger of being taken from him and his power hungry instincts took over for a little bit. What else could it have been? "Yes. Well-" He sat back up bringing the cup with him. "I don't tolerate strangers placing their hands on the woman I intend on marrying. I would advise against going back there anytime soon." "But, my papers-" "I'll send Cyber to retrieve them." He gave the cup a look before glancing back at her. ".....This coffee tastes a bit old. Why don't you go make a new pot?" "Alright. I get the hint. But, Lou-" A Soft hand reached out to gently squeeze his free hand. "I mean it. Thank you." She slowly removed herself from by the desk and made her way over to the doorway. He sat there frozen for what seemed like forever before slowly clenching his free hand. What the h*ll was wrong with him today?! He gave a frustrated growl before reaching up to remove his hat and run those red digits through his blonde locks of his, whatever. He would feel like himself soon again anyways. But he had other business to attend to that he certainly was not going to overlook or leave as a threat to any of his plans.

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

He had to wait for her to go to sleep which took a little longer than usually thanks to the mongeral's scare from earlier, but it's nothing some reassurance and warm drink couldn't help. He didn't know why but-...under that calm smile of his anger resurfaced and he gave off a frustrated growl as soon as he left the room and started making his way towards Midnight's lab, which was just a little ways from his dance room. And with his fast pace fueled by the anger in his veins it didn't take long for him to get there. But what first graced his ears was loud muffled mumbles coming from the inside of said lab and his anger started to turn in that direction. The door was pushed open maybe a little more forcefully than he'd like but that didn't matter to him in the moment and he just stood there in the doorway. Rasing a brow at what he was met with. The table Midnight used for....'things' was currently occupied by the struggling red skinned demon, the vines removed for favor of the clamps on the table, Cyber was standing right next to the table looking at him and shrugged. And a little ways from her was a grumpy as ever looking Midnight and a frowning snake flicking his tongue out at the guy...and he just now noticed the mongral had a black eye to match the rope around his mouth.

"..Did I miss something?"

"Eh...The guy got some colorful language and decided to use it on Midnight," she jabbed a thumb behind her at the grumpy looking which. "Disease wasn't too happy let's just say.''

He hummed as he walked into the room, hands behind his back and gave him a calm half lidded look without the smile. Rage burning behind those lidded red eyes of his. The guy glaring at him with absolute hatred behind that gag of his. "...Remove the gag."

Cyber did as she was told without question and with one pull the rope fell from the douchbag's snout. He coughed a few times before glaring up at him. "YOU F*CKING SON OF A B*TCH!! I'LL PLUCK YOUR PETALS AND SNAP YOUR F*CKING STEM YOU TWAT!!"

Lou's face didn't change and instead rolled his eyes. "Simpleton. You all always resort to petty curses and empty threats when you're about to meet your end. Midnight." The witch looked up from..whatever she was currently mixing together and with a sinister smile plastoring itself onto his face, he pointed to the strapped down man. "We found the new volunteer for your projects. Let's hope they prove useful research eh?"

The guy's eyes widened and snapped to the witch who all of a sudden didn't look so grumpy and was staring dead at him with...calculating eyes, before struggling against the table's restraints and glaring back him. "YOU F*CKING B*ST*RD!! LET ME OUT!!"

he hummed and tapped in his in mock thought. "Um...No. You see, you could've scared off one of my plan's assets and I simply cannot have that. So as punishment you get to help Midnight test out some of our other assets for this the small takeover I hope to achieve.~ Isn't that wonderful? Too bad you won't live to see it."

"WHY YOU FU-" The guy's snout was slammed shut by Cyber after Lou nodded to her. With incredible strength, she held his red jaws shut with one hand while looping the rope back around it with the other. Midnight already looked a little better, digging through one of the draws of her desk and pulling out a few potions and things she was eager to use. As for him?...He deserved a good night's sleep after today. He felt oddly satisfied and wanted to leave them to it. Turning on his heel he took a few steps before stopping in the doorway.

"Oh..By the way.'' He looked over his shoulder. Smile and red eyes glowing in the dark. "You missed out on having a remarkible lady by your side. I guess in a way I should really be thanking you. In a sense you pushed her to me and I couldn't be happier.~" Cyber rose a brow again at him happy tone. "But we both know I won't do any of that."

The doors closed behind him and muffled cries cursed him from behind.

All characters except Amalfia belongs to @palettepainter

[bunivys]

Ooh maybe “I’m leaving.” “Of course you are, that’s all you know how to do.” ?

Hey anon, thanks for sending this one in. I gotta admit, it’s pretty angsty so I’m posting a fluffy one right after this one. Enjoy! ❤️

The red wallpapered hallways of the Academy seemed to be eating Sabrina the further she delved into them, the clicking of her shoes echoing almost disjointedly behind her, as though the sound didn’t quite line up to her footsteps. The old magic wound deep around the bones of the school sometimes felt maddening, like entering a kaleidoscope, if she went too long without setting foot in the building.

And she had gone the entirety of the summer without so much as thinking of the Academy, her courses lying finished, books tossed to the side as though forgotten. She was having a blast with her mortal friends, spending nights at the theater then gathering around a booth in Dr. Cerberus’ to discuss, heading out for weekend trips to Sweetwater and swimming until her legs hurt, ignoring her aunt Zelda every time she tried to remind Sabrina she had duties at the school.

Zelda had finally had enough of her constant skipping out. Any time any sort of ritual came up at the Academy, any sort of celebration, Sabrina found some way out of it. Now, with the Summer Solstice on its way, Zelda had threatened to hex her if she didn’t show up, and Sabrina was on her way to her office in hopes of sorting it all out, maybe hoping her aunt would take pity on her and leave her to enjoy her mortal years in peace until she simply had to return.

As she was coming up on the doors to the High Priestess’ office, a figure was leaving.

“Nicholas,” Sabrina said before she could stop herself, surprise ringing in her voice at the sight of him. She hadn’t seen him in months, and she would by lying if she said it hadn’t been on purpose. 

He looked a little different, a bit tidier than she remembered, his hair trimmed back so the curls were no longer unruly, swept back in that effortless style she’d remembered him favoring. His clothes were dark, pressed, worn with intent instead of pulled on as a last-minute thought. Her stomach dropped when her gaze settled on the bag swung over his shoulder, the jacket draped over his arm, the air around him that oddly felt temporary. Like he had already disappeared.

His eyes, still as dark as she recalled, snapped up to meet hers. 

“Sabrina.”

They stared at each other for a moment, Nick not tearing his eyes from her, a somber expression on his face, his lips parted as though ready to say something. Why did it seem like he was trying to commit her to memory? 

“What are you doing?”

It took Nick a second to say anything, as if seeing her had just forced him to reset, had thrown him off balance. Finally, he said, “I’m leaving.” 

Something hot welled up in Sabrina. Something sharp, tearing through her on the way up. She didn’t have to question him any further to know that he meant the Academy, meant Greendale, maybe even meant the country. She could tell as much from the look on Nick’s face that he didn’t intend to come back, either, and that running into her wasn’t something he’d planned for. Which meant that he’d wanted to disappear without her ever knowing.

“Of course you are,” she snapped, unable to stop herself, “that’s all you know how to do, isn’t it, Nick?”

Nick flinched from her tone, but his features hardened quickly after that, dark brows furrowing. “What is that supposed to mean, Sabrina? If I remember correctly, I haven’t seen you around here in months.”

“That’s different and you know it,” she shot back, fists clenching at her sides. Surely, he knew why she was staying away. He had sent her off, and she had kept away because the Academy was his home, he’d said so himself, once. 

“Yeah? Enlighten me, then,” Nick said. “You washed yourself of everything, maybe some of us want to do the same.”

“I’m not here partly because you got sick of looking at me. That’s what you said, isn’t it? I figured I’d do you a favor and not show my face around here then,” she snapped, her tone meant to pierce, pulling from the argument they’d had in the woods when Nick shouted at her that all he saw when he looked at her was her father. “You’re leaving because you refuse to face anything.”

Nick’s jaw tensed.

“You left for Hell, Nick, you offered yourself up because you wanted to make it up to me, instead of facing me and apologizing for lying to me for months so that we could move past it—”

“You really think your father would have just let us talk it out after he crowned you his child bride? Really, Sabrina? I did that for you,” Nick snapped. “So that you wouldn’t have to be Lucifer’s queen, but you threw that right back at my face, didn’t you? You gladly took the crown anyway. The only fucking difference was that you let your father break me down for weeks first.”

Sabrina felt her heart tighten in her chest at the reminder of it. Those grueling weeks she’d spent trying to sort out how to get to him. Not sleeping. Hardly eating. Bringing her mortal friends into it, ignoring their concerns that she was overworking herself.

“And I did it as a last resort, Nick, you know that. I did it for you. I became Queen for you, but it didn’t matter either, because you went and left me again the second I got you back to go and mess around with sex demons and get wasted within an inch of your life.” It was a low blow, she knew it, especially after she had told herself she’d forgiven him for that. Nick had not been in his right mind, she’d said so herself, and yet, here she was, throwing it at him again.

Nick was rigid, his lips set in a straight line. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, Sabrina, just drop it.”

“Of course you don’t. You never did. You would have rather let it ruin you than to let me try and help you.”

“When was I supposed to ask for your help? At the fucking carnival in front of your friends? Or was I supposed to wait until you were done with your queenly duties for the evening, or after you were done flirting with that blonde prick?” Nick asked, and when Sabrina opened her mouth to respond, he continued, “At the time, I would have rather you left me in the pit of Hell with whatever sliver of honor I had left than for you to have dragged me out of there and then left me to ruin myself here on Earth where everyone could watch.”

“I wanted to help you!” Sabrina cried back, tears welling in her eyes at her frustration. She couldn’t imagine leaving Nick down there. “It kills me every day that I couldn’t help you, that I couldn’t get you out of there sooner. That I hadn’t listened to you when you told me you still felt him there. But the truth is, we’re just kids, Nick, how were we supposed to navigate this to perfection?”

“Isn’t that the fucking truth,” Nick groaned in agreement a moment later.

They locked eyes, staring at each other. It was the truth. At sixteen, what did she know about fixing people? Or being the literal descendent of the Devil? And he hadn’t exactly been dealt the proper resources to figure himself out, either, because witches didn’t operate like mortals. They didn’t pay for therapy or seek help from others. They were told to deal with it themselves, to hide away their hurt like it was shameful. So Nick had done just that.

At least, Sabrina realized guiltily, she had walked away from the Academy because she had that luxury. Meanwhile, Nick had stayed there, every bit of the place reminding him of the hand he had been dealt, and what he had dealt back in response. She had been too preoccupied with the way no one in the Academy looked at her the same anymore to realize he was in the same boat. Once, he had been the selfless boy who had trapped the Devil in his body, but now, he was the boy who had set him free in exchange for a high he had hoped would kill him.

They had both sunk their claws into each other, had refused to acknowledge it until they’d left gashes so deep they were unmendable. 

When Nick spoke again, after several seconds of charged silence, his demeanor was calmer, his voice a tad softer.

“You wanted to help, I know. But you can’t, Sabrina. The only person that can help me is me. The only person that has to live with everything I’ve done is me, and I’m trying. That’s why I broke up with you, because it was selfish to love you after everything I put you through, and I needed time and space to forgive myself, and…It’s really difficult. It’s difficult to know that everyone else is moving on, and I can’t get over what happened to me. So I need to leave. For now or forever, I don’t know, but I need to, Sabrina.” 

Carefully, he stepped a little closer to her.

“I’m sorry. I know I never really said that to you, and I know that it isn’t enough, but I am. I’m sorry for everything, Sabrina. I never wanted to hurt you.”

I only wanted to hurt myself.

He didn’t have to say it for her to understand what he’d meant.

“I’m sorry, too, Nick. I’ve made comments I shouldn’t have and—”

“At the end of the day, you saved my life, Spellman,” he said, trying the name out again a little timidly. “You got me clean. You fought to let me have a second chance, and I don’t plan to waste it.” He paused. “You loved me. You showed me how to love.”

“I still love you, Nick, I—” I tried to sever my feelings but it didn’t work, “I do.”

 “And I still love you,” he told her without a shred doubt in his voice. “But I need time.”

Sabrina nodded, felt a tear spill down her cheek finally. She wiped at it before he could, afraid that if he touched her again, she wouldn’t be able to let him go. “I know,” she said quietly. Nick hiked the bag up higher on his shoulder, giving her an apologetic look. He had to go. Sabrina had to let him go. “Stay safe, please.”

“I will.”

Sabrina nodded. That was that, then. “Goodbye, Nick.”

He gave her a shoulder a squeeze when he brushed past her. “See you, Sabrina.”

[call-me-nerdy]

Felix is Ladybug

School starts tomorrow, and I'm already dreading it. Please send help. : (

Felinette November Day 3; Kwami Swap

-----

"So let me get this straight. Apparently, M'Lady is sick today and trusted you enough to let you know her secret identity and let you be ladybug for a day?"

"You are correct."

"Isn't that hypocritical? I mean, she did say that no one could know our secret identities."

"Apparently, I'm an exception."

-----

It was cold. So very cold.

Marinette pulled the blanket tighter around her body, shivering when she exhaled a hot breath. Glancing down, her phone lay idle by her feet. With the little strength she had, Marinette forced herself to pick up her phone and lift it up to her face, turning the screen on with a pained hiss. The bright screen practically burned her retinas in the dark bedroom. Marinette's sight adjusted to see the clock displaying a bold '1:59 pm' on her pink lockscreen.

2 o'clock. It was 2 o'clock in the afternoon. The sunlight was supposed to be burning everything it touched at this hour. Then why the hell, for Kwami's sake, was it so damn cold?!

She buried her face into the pillow in her arms, though no amount of smothering could ease the headache that seemed intent on pounding her temples into smithereens. Marinette groaned in frustration, all too tempted to pull her hair out from the roots to just distract her from her aching limbs. Well, as if she even had the energy to move her arms right now.

"It'll be fine, Marinette. Get plenty of rest so you can recover quickly." Tikki tried to assure the teen, only to receive a soft grunt in return.

"But its a Monday, Tikki. And out of all days to be sick, it just had to be today when a project was due!" Marinette tried to raise her voice to emphasize her worry, but her sentences came out in a low, slurred rasp instead.

"And an addition to that, I promised to take a few of the Kwamis to the movies today. I've only been the guardian for a few months, and I'm already breaking promises." She forced out, her tone was worried and guilt-ridden.

Tikki frowned, "You shouldn't worry about any of that when you're running such a high fever! I'm sure the other kwamis will understand. Your health is much more important right now."

"But–"

"No buts and no more talking! Your sore throat might get worse!" Tikki scolded. Marinette pouted, but Tikki's voice demanded no more arguements. Instead, she pulled the thick blanket over her head in surrender.

"Stupid flu. Stupid fever. Stupid germ akuma making me sick." She muttered under her breath. Tikki sighed.

'Beep beep.' Her phone sounded, nearly startling the teen out of her own body.

Marinette groaned, "Of course. The day I'm sick, and Hawkmoth decides to terrorize Paris." Marinette weakly removed the blanket from her body, biting her lip to ignore the ache.

Tikki put her hand on Marinette's forehead, "You're not transforming."

"But Ladybug–" Cough, cough. Marinette covered her mouth, the onslaught of vigorous coughs attacked her throat.

"We'll find another solution." The kwami insisted, forcing Marinette back onto the blankets.

Knock knock. Tikki gasped, before swiftly hiding inside Marinette's hair.

"Dumpling, your classmate Felix is here to visit you!" Sabine's voice called out before the sound of retreating footfalls eased their worries.

"Marinette, may I come in? An Akuma attacked and we were let home early." Felix's sentence was muffled through the door.

Tikki hid a smirk, "I may have an idea."

"Tikki, no!" Marinette choked.

-----

"So I just say 'Spots on', correct?" Felix swiftly slid the second ladybug earring into his left ear.

"Yep!" Tikki nodded.

Felix sighed, "Alright. I've probably kept the cat waiting for far too long." he cleared his throat.

Marinette sniffled, "I'm sorry for dragging you into this, Felix." A guilty frown etched it's way onto her face.

His gaze softened, "It's fine, Marinette. Just promise to stay in bed and get better? It would ease the most of my worries." Felix assured her.

"Thanks, Fé." Marinette smiled.

"There's no problem." Felix said. Gripping his tie, he sucked a breath,"It's now or never, Tikki."

"Spots on."

-----

Felix's day could not get any stranger.

Well, 'strange' is relative when your city is targeted by a terrorist on the daily, but that's besides the point.

For one, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was absent today. The lack of her presence alone meant his day was missing the color and liveliness it usually had. His other classmates seemed to have missed her as well. After all, the absence of the Class Representative meant that no one would mediate between classroom disagreements (which unfortunately happened much more often than what Felix deemed normal). As much as Rossi tried to capitalize on these issues, like hell could such a selfish girl handle a responsibility like leadership, as she only succeeded in making the issues worse.

Next was a rather strange akuma attack. In the middle of a class discussion, while Felix was oh so peacefully taking down notes for a certain lunette, when his handiwork was suddenly trampled by, no joke, a hundred or so cats.

And then he pieced it all together.

'Marinette was sick. Thus, Ladybug is also sick. There are thousands of cats running madly around Paris. Oh, sh–'

And so he booked it out of the school to Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie.

Where upon arriving into Marinette's room, he was given the responsibility of becoming a kwami-damned superhero.

And now, he was here on a stranger's rooftop, overlooking cats of all things, running feral around the city. With Chat Noir looking at him like he killed his puppy.

"Who are you?" The black-clad superhero warily asked, donning a defensive stance with his baton shielding him.

Felix cleared his throat, "Erm, I haven't really thought of a name for myself yet. But I am supposed to be Ladybug's substitute today."

"Substitute? Why would she need a substitute?" Confusion practically swirled in Chat's eyes.

"Ladybug is awfully ill due to the previous akuma, so she enlisted my assistance until she recovers." Felix tried his best to explain, but he couldn't help but dread the hero's reaction.

"Wait, she asked for your help? You know her civilian identity?!" He burst out, Chat held a tone of betrayal in his voice. Felix fought a wince.

"Yes, I do."

"So let me get this straight. Apparently, M'Lady is sick today and trusted you enough to let you know her secret identity and let you be ladybug for a day?" Every emphasis was coated in disbelief; disbelief that Ladybug had trusted someone else over her own partner.

"You are correct." Felix sighed.

Chat Noir huffed, "Isn't that hypocritical? I mean, she did say that no one could know our secret identities."

"Apparently, I'm an exception." Felix forced himself to say. He couldn't disclose his circumstances anyway.

Chat laughed dryly, "Yeah. Of course you are." he bitterly said.

A period of awkward silence followed after.

"A-anyway, we better go before that akuma hits more people." Chat inhaled. Felix could tell that the hero already didn't like him.

"Agreed."

-----

"I am Little Feline! Cats are getting mistreated by you inconsiderate scum! This is their retribution!" The Akuma was a little girl, Felix assumed. A little girl who was concerned for a few cats, and yet Hawkmoth still decided to use her.

This only reinforced Felix's opinion that yes, Hawkmoth is scum.

"She isn't particularly powerful. She just has a lot of cats surrounding her. Hawkmoth is getting less creative it seems." Chat Noir said, and Felix honestly agreed. They were currently hiding behind quite a large billboard, overlooking the truly staggering amount of cats surrounding the akuma.

"I can see that. It seems her scratch turns civilians into cats." Felix added, darting around to find the source of the power.

"So we should just not get scratched then?"

"It seems that way." Felix clicked his tongue.

"Hey, word of advice." Chat started, "You should probably use Lucky Charm right about now."

"Oh, right." Felix felt his face heat up, "Lucky charm!" Felix held out his hand, and caught the handle of something.

A magnifying glass.

It was a magnifying glass.

"A magnifying glass? How is this supposed to help us?" Felix combed a hand through his hair in exasperation.

Chat awkwardly smiled, "Yeah, Lucky charm does that."

Now how the hell to use this. Felix stared at the object in his hands. How would Marinette use something like this? The sun shone behind them, casting a shadow on the Akuma's fleet of felines.

Felix turned his back to the board. He held the glass by the handle and put it up to the sky right above his face.

The light almost hit his eye.

"Ah!" Stupid, stupid Felix.

"Are you alright?" Chat blinked at him.

"I think." Felix groaned.

He paused.

Wait. That's it.

Felix stared at the glass.

"Chat Noir, I have a plan."

-----

The plan was a bit convoluted, but alas, it did just the trick. Making use of the billboard casting a shadow over the cats, Felix used the magnifying glass to direct a beam of light to distract the horde away from the girl. Chat Noir figured that the akuma was in the gloves that the akuma used to turn people into cats, so he used the opportunity to use cataclysm on the claws while she was distracted.

How did Marinette deal with all of this?

Felix watched the white Butterfly fly away, relieved that all of this was over.

"Miraculous Ladybug!" He threw the magnifying glass to the sky, watching with awe as it transformed into glowing ladybugs that swept through Paris as a miraculous cure.

His earrings started beeping.

"I guess this is my cue to leave. Thank you, Chat Noir." Felix offered a handshake.

"You're welcome." The hero reluctantly smiled and returned his gesture.

A familiar voice gasped, "Wait! Wait a minute!" She ran to them, a phone recording in her hand.

Alya Cesaire.

"I'm afraid I must go before I detransform. Chat Noir will answer all of your questions." Felix clasped the yoyo, about to zip away if not for his classmate putting a hand on his forearm.

"Just one question, please!" She pleaded.

Felix sighed, "I suppose–"

Alya almost squealed, cutting him off. "Thank you! So what do we call you?!"

Felix paused for a moment,

"Call me Cerberus." he finally said.

-----

"Cerberus, huh." Marinette rasped.

Felix groaned, "It was on a whim."

"Uhuh, sure. Because you totally didn't know that there's a chance that Cerberus means 'Spotted' in Greek."

He frowned, "I will not confirm, nor deny your suspicions."

"Oh, don't you know that the Latin for Cerberus can also mean clouds?" Despite her sickness, Marinette still loved to tease him. No matter the circumstances.

"Shut up, Dupain-Cheng."

Marinette cackled, "Oh wouldn't you like that, Fluffy."

-----

I shouldn't be up at 11:30 in the night because school resumes tomorrow. But eh, screw it.

[maple-writes]

WHG 14: post games 3

whg tag list: @ratracechronicler (Alvira) @concealeddarkness13 (Zenith), @nightskywriter , @rhikasa , @the-moving-finger-writes , @aeslin-writes @knmartinshouldbewriting , @pen-of-roses @timefirewrites 

(skipping right to the stealing part cause I couldn’t think much to add to the practice scene)

###

Shine gave us the directions to the facility where the shockers and other equipment were stored. It stood non-descript and heavily guarded just outside the main part of the city. Zenith and Elvira had gone ahead, leaving me hidden in a little dark alley just outside the loading bay. I peered out as far as I dared as nerves crawled up and down my skin. How long had they been gone for? Did something happen?

Someone stepped out into the street and I ducked my head back in with a sharp gasp, but then I recognized Elvira’s voice. A moment later they rounded the corner, Zenith dragging a struggling guard with him. I scrambled back, gesturing for him to bring the man down to the far corner of the alley.

I turned to face our victim, curling my fingers at my sides. “Sorry about this.”

He didn’t have time to react before I snatched the soul from his chest, holding it tight in one hand, tighter than what had to be comfortable, but I didn’t want to drop him. Didn’t want to make Zenith hold him down again. The guard flared cold against my skin, panic shooting up my arm and quickening my heart.

Now Zenith. “Ready?”

He nodded. “Let’s go.”

I plucked him into my other hand. Stiller, calmer than the other, he still buzzed and chilled the blood running away from my hand, running up through my shoulder and into my heart until I pushed him into the guard’s empty body. As soon as he started to move, I steadied myself and forced the guard’s soul through the wall of my chest, working him through the muscle and bone to settle beside my heart.

 #

Immediately, I winced as the guard flared out from my chest, pushing against my lungs and trying to claw back out through the muscles binding my ribs. You! You’re that, that tribute, shit. I hunched over, holding a hand over my chest as I fought to catch my breath, to take it back from his attempt at control. He probably didn’t even know he was doing it. Don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me. I won’t. You’ll be fine.

I took a deep breath, pushing him back beside what was left by my own half soul. He protested, but slowly succumbed enough for me to look back up with a nod and a quiet thumbs up. Zenith nodded back and started to slip out of the alley, but Elvira held back.

She glanced back at me. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Right. I nodded again. I forgot sometimes how it must look from the outside. Shaking and sweating with uneven breath and clenched teeth. She didn’t look fully convinced, but there was a plan we had to follow, so she left, following Zenith out towards the building.

I leaned back against the wall, resting my head against the worn cement. It was silent, silent besides the pounding of my own heart in my ears. My chest ached, heavy with the guard’s soul where it didn’t belong.

What are they doing? Where are they going? What’s going on? I turned my head, half my own idea, half his, blinking down the alley the way they’d gone. Panic knotted tight in my stomach, organs twisting in on themselves and my skin crawled up and down and up and down. I closed my eyes and forced my gaze ahead again. It’s fine, everything’s fine. They’re going to go in, take something, and come back. That’s all. That’s all.

Is it about that girl? The girl? The tribute, Lynne. Yeah, her and the other Lynn. I swore under my breath. I probably shouldn’t have told him that, but really, how hard would it have been to put two and two together. Not very hard. Exactly.

I sighed, letting my shoulders fall as my heart started to get a hold of itself, slowing, slowing enough to calm some of the tremors running up and down my arms. Without meaning too, I let out a groan and massaged closed eyes. Fuck I’m so getting fired after this.

Huh? I shuddered as disappointment crushed deep on top of my chest, heavy and guilty. I had one job, just one job and then one guy comes along and drags me away like nothing! I hunched over, resting my hands against crossed legs. My heart started up again, halfway back to it’s fast-paced panic. I took a deep breath, and then another. Easy, relax. To be fair, Zenith is very strong. Easy, relax.

I shook my head, hands starting to shake even as I opened and shut my fingers. I’ve never been fired before. What am I going to do? My hands went to my head and my eyes widened, staring, staring down at the cement, fingernails digging into my scalp. What am I going to tell my wife?

Come on, I shook my head out, taking control of my arms back and setting them back in my lap. It’s not like it’s the end of the world or anything. I counted on shaky fingers. I mean, I’ve been fired from like, five different places. It sucks, but it could be worse. I guess… Honestly you could probably do better than guarding torture devices anyway. I frowned. Torture devices? What else would you call those shocker  things, the ones fitted to Lynne and Lynn?

The guard stilled, settling quiet and cold just under the base of my throat. I could still see them, up on the screen and trying their best to act like they weren’t in pain in front of the entire country. Like nothing was wrong, and they weren’t in pain. Oh. Oh is that what was in there? Probably not the only thing but yeah, yeah that’s what we’re here to take.

There was a shipment, a small one. I stood at my watch in the loading bay as some of the higher ups chatted over the delivery. Boxes marked as an electrical hazard. My boss laughed,laughing along with the others, one a strange man I’d never seen before with silver hair and red eyes. Probably some new fashion I guessed. I strained my ears to try and hear what they were talking about, anything to chase away some of the boredom eating at the back of my mind, but they were too far away and too drowned out by the echoes against hard cement.

I can’t believe someone would do something like that. Really? I couldn’t help but laugh, just a little in spite of it all. You can believe they’d send tributes to fight for entertainment, but this goes just that little bit too far? Yeah, but… I sighed, letting my eyes slide closed. It feels different when I’m involved. My hands went up again, this time massaging the sides of my head. Fuck, I don’t even like this job that much and now I have to live with this. I blinked. Maybe this is for the best then, an excuse to find something better.

A grin spread across my face, wide and mischievous. What if you got hurt today, on the job, and were able to collect some kind of compensation while you look for a new job? Nerves jolted through my arms. What are you suggesting? I shrugged. It probably wouldn’t be out of the question to call this an injury. You were forcibly ripped from your body against your will after all. Maybe you need a few days to recover. Maybe this is something you weren’t trained to handle safely by your employer. I shrugged again. I don’t know, I don’t work there.

I sat up straight with a sharp breath. Shit that’s genius. Least I can do for putting you through this. If I could ask a favor though, could you let us get away before you put it in motion? Fine. I smiled. Thanks. My name’s Asher, by the way. Though he probably already knew that, with the whole being a minor celebrity for a few weeks thing. I laughed. Yeah, that sounds familiar. I’m Ryan.

Time went on, or maybe it didn’t take too long. It was always hard to tell like this. But my eyes  grew heavier, and my arms shook when they moved. It’d been a while since I’d taken someone in for this long, and then I hadn’t been running around in the snow for weeks beforehand.

Finally though, Zenith and Elvira returned. I smiled up at them, trying but failing probably to hide the tiredness weighing on my eyes. “All done?”

Zenith nodded. “We were seen, so we should probably get out of here quickly.”

Be more surprising if they hadn’t been seen. I barely stopped the joking grin he tried to put on my face.

“We got away with it for now,” Elvira added, almost as if trying to reassure me we weren’t about to be picked up and arrested right this second. “But I agree, We ought to hurry.”

I nodded. She was probably right. I waved Zenith other to his body. “When I put you back please stay quiet like we talked about okay?” Had I said that out loud? Yeah you did. I shook out my head. Lets just get this over with.

Hold still and it’ll be faster. Me? Yeah. Ryan stilled, drawing himself into the center of my chest, brushing up against my sternum. Perfect. I caught hold of him and he slipped smooth through my body and kept still as could be expected as I held him in my hand. I took Zenith out of Ryan and pushed both souls back into the right bodies.

For a moment, I watched them, leaning forward in case something went wrong, but when both opened their eyes and seemed to be more or less themselves, I leaned back against the wall with a sigh. It worked. My heart slowed, my breathing quieted, and every muscle felt heavy and tired and all I wanted to do was close my eyes. Was I this out of practise? No. I took a deep breath and forced myself to stand, bracing against the wall. It’d just been a long time since I had to do anything like this in this kind of situation, so far from home, away from everything I usually counted on. Usually people were already dead but did that matter?

I shook out my head and followed the two of them back, glad I didn’t have to do the thinking to find our way back. But even still I stumbled on the concrete, and my legs trembled. Zenith must have noticed, and he held his arm out to help me along. I didn’t think twice before taking the offer. If I leaned too much of my weight on him, he didn’t say anything.

#

When we got back I let Zenith and Elvira handle the debrief and slipped away back to my room. Curled up under the blankets it didn’t take long for me to fall asleep. When I woke later, it was quiet outside, and when I sat up I noticed an enveloped just inside the door, probably slipped under while I was out.

I picked it up and brought it back to the bed, opening it up as I settled back down. inside were two papers, one handwritten and the other typed.

The handwritten one was on top. Ginger sent this for you but I didn’t want to wake you. -Triel

Ginger? I scrunched my face as I unfolded the second note.

Hey Asher,

Triel tells me you and Cirrus survived. I’m very glad to hear it, I was worried. I hope you’re doing alright, and I wish I could be there to help you more but I have to lie low until the investigation concludes that I did not have a hand in any kind of illegal extraction cover up and the case is closed. They’ve already interrogated me twice so I don’t think I’m yet in the clear. This can’t be easy for you, and if you need anything you can reach me for now through Triel. She’s very good at staying covert. I have not told Striker that either of you are alive and I advise you to do the same until everything winds down. Look after yourself, don’t push yourself too hard, and I hope to see you soon.

So their cover story, that had been Ginger? I re-read the note, typed out in such an uncharacteristically impersonal font. She could be arrested for what she did, or worse if they’d decided to let the Shades try things out of her instead. All for me? I swallowed and rubbed my eyes with the back of my sleeve. At least she was being careful about it. But, did I really have to hold back on telling Striker I was alive? My shoulders fell as I found his nurse ID in my pocket. How long would he have to wait? It wouldn’t be the first time I’d had to stay away from him for his own safety, but, but this time… This time didn’t feel so certain. Last time he at least knew where I was. Last time we could talk over the phone, and I could see him once Charlotte had delivered Ginger’s webcam to the cabin. This time he was completely in the dark, mourning lives that hadn’t actually been lost. 

But Ginger was probably right. It was for the best to keep him out of it a little longer. I sighed and laid back down, staring up at the ceiling. Just a little longer, then a little longer after that…

[mostlycompetentwriter]

I Am You: Chapter 3

Pairing: OC x Bang Chan x Han Jisung x Seo Changbin

Genre: Romantic Fantasy

Warnings: Smut, some mentions of blood and gore

Previous Chapters: (chapter 1), (chapter 2)

Note: Just to clarify, in the scene where Myah and Changbin are both wolves, they use a special mind link to speak to one another. All pack members can communicate while they are wolves. However, mates can speak to one another no matter what form their partner happens to be in. This is how human Changbin is able to communicate with wolf Myah.

“Have you seen Changbin?” I asked Felix, watching the younger alpha absent-mindedly skin the deer laid out on the table in front of us.

“I think he’s hunting,” Felix replied, frowning as he let out a disgusted sound. “It would be nice if he could skin his own kill every once in a while.”

“He’s always hunting,” I huffed in frustration.

Felix shrugged, “He’s probably not far out. He just left like fifteen minutes ago. You can probably catch up to him if you need something.”

I immediately heeded Felix’s suggestion, shifting forms carefully, as it had certainly been a while since I last allowed my wolf to takeover. However, I knew it would be much easier to catch up to Changbin with a better nose, relying purely on smell to find my tsundere mate. And I picked up on his trail fast, following his scent slowly while I still felt unsteady on the four legs replacing my usual two. I really needed to run more with Jisung when he offered. It was almost embarrassing how out-of-touch I felt with my hyper-active wolf, especially after experiencing yet another clumsy fall along the mountain rocks. 

I was fully committed to shifting every day.

Thankfully, I found Changbin quickly, distracted by the small doe grazing a hundred yards or so away. I waited patiently, making sure my scent was down-wind so that he couldn’t possibly blame me if he missed this kill. But Changbin was the pack’s best hunter, and he tracked down the unsuspecting creature with startling astuteness. 

It was as he was dragging the doe back down the cliffside that he spotted me. His dark brown wolf let out a grumpy growl as he walked over to where I waited. He let the prey fall from his mouth, regarding me with a look that I could only describe as reprimanding. 

I heard his voice speak clearly through our mind-link. “You shouldn’t be out here.”

I refused to back down. “You’re always hunting these days. How else was I supposed to talk to you?”

Changbin’s wolf was imposing as he stood over me. He was bigger than most wolves, and he exuded power and dominance. “Go back to camp.”

I watched as he leaned back down to pick up the doe. “Will you talk to me tonight?”

“I’m hunting late.”

I let out a sharp bark, racing ahead to block his path. “Why are you ignoring me?”

“Don’t act like this, Myah.” 

“I don’t understand why you can’t talk to me. Are you really going to punish me for something I already forgave you for?”

He bullied his way past me. “It’s dangerous up here. Now go home.”

Stung by his disregard, I obeyed his order, starting back down the path with much less spring than I had before. I glanced back over my shoulder at the big alpha, wondering if Changbin knew how much he was hurting me. 

But distractions were never a good thing on the mountain, and I heard the switch before I felt its claws. Unfortunately, I had failed to keep an eye on the path in front of me, as Changbin had constantly warned me about, but that didn’t make it any less shocking. Which is probably why, at first, the pain from the trap didn’t register over my surprise. But then I felt it deeply when I saw the blood. I let out a pained howl, instinctively trying to pry my leg away from the source of my pain. It only worsened the situation, the sharp edges digging brutally into my flesh. 

“Don’t move!”

I heard his command before I could scent him, but Changbin was suddenly there, burying his head into the side of my neck, releasing soothing alpha pheromones even as the pain grew to an unbearable level. I fell to the ground, craning my neck around to look at my mangled leg, bits of flesh and blood amidst the silver trap. I saw fingers next, faintly realizing Changbin had shifted to his human form, working at the trap.

Then I heard the mountain lion’s growl.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I think Channie hates me,” I complained to Jisung, watching the alpha move about his room, a towel wrapped messily around his waist.

“Chan doesn’t hate you,” Jisung chided gently, digging for a pair of sweatpants out of his closet. 

“What did I do?” I asked, ignoring Jisung as I rolled onto my back, looking up at the ceiling.

“Chan’s just stressed,” Jisung said. “He’s got a lot of decisions to make.”

“Mating shouldn’t be a difficult decision,” I muttered because it was true. In fact, mating should be easy with the person you love.

“Don’t be impatient,” Jisung said, suddenly appearing above me. “Chan always thinks about everything too much, you know how he is.”

“It shouldn’t require any thinking,” I said, letting out a whine of protest when Jisung moved onto the bed, crowding me into the mattress. I broke off only when I was wrapped in Jisung’s arms, secure against his strong chest. His vanilla scent surrounded me, and I could tell he was releasing calming pheromones, which I appreciated.

“Everything will work out in time,” Jisung whispered, pressing a tender kiss to the side of my temple.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Changbin!” I cried out through the bond, watching the mountain lion creep closer, likely smelling my blood in the air.

Changbin managed to open the trap and I whined as I pulled my leg free. “Can you shift?” he asked me, but I was in too much pain to concentrate so I shook my head, desperately trying to push myself onto all four legs, but collapsing back down each time. The mountain lion growled, haunches raised in an attack position. Changbin shifted back easily, his intimidating wolf forcing the lion to briefly reconsider its plan. “Don’t worry,” Changbin said, using the mind link to offer me calming reassurances.

I threw back my head to howl, hoping our other packmates could hear the call. Unfortunately, it also prompted the lion into action and it launched itself at Changbin. I watched in horror as it wrestled Changbin to his back, exposing his soft underbelly and tender throat. The sound of its claws slashing through fur and flesh was revolting and my stomach churned dangerously. Changbin fought back, using his hind legs to push the lion off, reclaiming an upright position before chasing after the lion, nipping at its weaker tendons. The lion stumbled on the loose rocks and Changbin brought it down, tearing into whatever flesh his teeth could sink into.

I looked away from the gruesome scene, calling out for Chan and Jisung through the mating bond, but they were probably too far away to hear my pleas. Instead, I let my wolf take control, and she slowly started limping us over to the coverage of the bushes, hoping to disguise the scent of our blood. However, the lion did not like her decision, losing sight of its easy prey. He managed to throw Changbin off, and I winced as his body crashed into the side of the rocks. I tried to throw myself forward but let out a pained yelp when I felt the lion’s teeth dig into my leg, pulling me away from my destination. 

I whined loudly, panting hard against wave after wave of pain, my flesh wound reopened by the lion’s unforgiving teeth. We started down the slope and I knew I was going to die. The lion would easily drag me somewhere it was familiar with, ripping into my throat before using my carcass as its meal for the next several days. I was poisoned with fear, watching my life slowly drain out onto the rocks around me.

But Changbin hadn’t given up, and the lion was unprepared for Changbin to attack again. My mate managed to wrestle the lion into a precarious position of weakness, immediately going for its throat and locking his teeth around its pulse point. I faintly observed Changbin pulling back with a large chunk of flesh between his teeth, my vision swimming in and out of focus. I did register Changbin’s dark scent, and his familiar voice trying to reach out to me, even as the blackness finally claimed me.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I knew Chan was going to break up with me. 

I could tell by his posture, by the distinct way he was hunched in on himself, doing no favors to his taller height. He was also unusually quiet, taking me by the hand to lead me to the meadow where we always played together as children. The one his mother had taken us to for the very first time when we were barely five years old. It was a special place full of meaning and Chan knew how important it was to me, how I always felt calmer when I was surrounded by the familiar daffodils.

He wanted me to be comfortable because the news he was going to deliver would likely break my heart. This was all I could think about when Chan finally turned around to face me, eyes distant and sorrowful. “Myah,” he said my name, and my heart reached out to him. “Do you love Jisung and Changbin?”

I was thrown by the unexpected question. “Of course I do.”

“You know they’ll always take care of you, right?”

Chan’s questions seemed misplaced. “What are you talking about?”

Chan sighed, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his jacket. “Jisung and Changbin are starting their own pack, you know.”

I nodded because it was usually all Jisung talked about. He was beyond excited to lead his own pack, and Changbin was relieved to get away and start his own family. Felix would be joining, along with several of their friends: Seungmin, Minho, Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Woojin. I was excited because I adored the idea of starting something new, especially with my mates by my side. 

But that needed to include Chan as well.

“My father wants me to stay here,” he finally said. “He wants me to lead his pack in the future.”

I immediately shook my head. “You have to come with us, Chan. Jisung and Changbin are your best friends, and I-”

“I’ll get in the way,” Chan interrupted. “You already have two mates, Myah. They both adore you.”

“But I need you too,” I protested, squeezing our intertwined hands. “You mean so much to me, Chan. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“I know,” Chan agreed, pausing to look around, a nostalgic smile on his face. “We got into a lot of trouble together, but that was a long time ago. We both have to start considering our futures.”

I stepped in closer, eliminating more of the space between us, even though it still felt like it wasn’t enough. “My future means nothing without you in it.”

Chan’s expression softened. “I can’t do that to you.”

“You’ll break my heart,” I warned him. “You’ll hurt me and you promised you wouldn’t.”

“Not if you don’t let me,” Chan countered. “You deserve a long life, Myah, with Jisung and Changbin.”

“With you,” I insisted earnestly. “Chan, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have Jisung or Changbin.”

“But you do have them,” he said. “You’ll always have them.”

He tenderly reached out, thumbing his way across Changbin’s mark on my neck. “But I need your mark.”

“It’s too much.”

“Not it’s not!” I disagreed, clutching even more tightly to him, feeling like he might vanish at any moment. “Chan, you made a promise to me! You can’t say these things...Please don’t leave me.”

I was starting to panic and Chan picked up on it, releasing more of his soothing scent which I consumed greedily, faced with the possibility of never having it again. “I’ll visit when I can.”

“It won’t be the same,” I trembled, disregarding the space he tried to maintain, collapsing into his arms.

“You’ll move on.”

“No, I won’t,” I insisted, leaning up to scent him. “Why are you doing this? Why bother even promising it to me if you never planned on keeping it?” 

He winced as if my comment caused him physical pain. “At one point, I did intend to keep it, but then you mated with Jisung and Changbin. I could see the change in you, the way you looked happier around them. You really don’t need me anymore, Myah. It’s just hard to let go of the past.”

My tears were soaking through his t-shirt, but I knew Chan didn’t care. “If you leave me, I’ll miss you every day. You’re my best friend, Chan. My soulmate.”

“Be good for me,” he whispered into my hair. 

“Stop it!” I harshly interjected, abruptly pulling out his arms, startling both of us. “Stop saying that you’re leaving. If you really loved me, then you would stay.” Chan was at a loss for words, opening his mouth before closing it again. “I don’t care about your father’s pack now,” I continued, “I care about the one I’m building, and I refuse to be a part of it without you. How can you not understand how much you mean to me? I don’t just want you, Chan, I need you! I depend on you for so much and if you left, I’ll be completely empty, because you won’t be there to fill those places anymore.”

I was incoherent, tasting my salty tears as I shook my head vigorously, refusing to acknowledge Chan’s words. Empty threats, that’s all they were. Chan had been mine from the moment we met, and nothing would ever tear us apart. No matter how many people came between us, or how many fights we got into, or how he could ever think we’d be able to live without one another. Chan caught me in his arms before my knees gave out and he brought us both to the ground, holding me close as I cried against his chest. “What can I do to convince you?” I pleaded with him. “I’ll do anything.”

For a while he was quiet and I continued to sob those terrible soul-wrenching cries that jarred the places inside of me that was frightening. Dark places I tried to hide away, like the evil voice that sometimes whispered that I wasn’t good enough for any of them. That voice might be right, but I always did my best. I would always fight for them.

Finally, Chan gently encouraged me to lean back, drying my tears with his sleeves. He picked up my wrist, brushing his lips across the blue-colored veins decorating the surface of my creamy skin. “Shall I do it here?” he asked, glancing up at me with eyes that reminded me of home.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I could only smell Changbin when I woke up, dizzy with the after effects of restless sleep. His scent was spiked with fear. It was enough to pull me back to consciousness, and I blinked against the blinding white light infiltrating my line of vision. “Ah,” a familiar voice spoke. “You’re finally awake?”

I glanced over at Woojin. “How long have I been out?”

“A day or so,” he replied, “But I think it was the trauma. Your leg will take some time to heal.”

I sat up slowly, listening to Woojin’s advice while leaning back against the bed frame. “Is it really bad?”

“I’ve seen worse, but that was back during my training. You’re the first real injury we’ve had in the new pack.”

“That sucks,” I said, and Woojin chuckled. 

“Your mates have been worrying all night,” Woojin informed me. “I couldn’t get Changbin to leave. His scent was everywhere.”

“I can smell it,” I acknowledged. “But when you say mates-”

“Felix freaked out,” Woojin said, rolling his eyes. “He and Seungmin ran all the way to the border, and I’m sure they made it sound far worse than it actually was.”

“That was an important meeting,” I said. “They shouldn’t have done that.”

“Well, Felix is young, and it’s hard to be in your right mind when the third in command is running around nearly hysterical. I had to give Changbin some morphine, his body was halfway between wolf and human. It wasn’t pleasant to see.”

“Great,” I muttered because I didn’t like the idea of everything falling apart over me.

“They can return to the northern lands later,” Woojin said as if he knew exactly what I had been thinking. “I’m sure Taeyong would gladly welcome back Chan and Jisung. He has a mate of his own and understands how it feels to be away when they’re hurt.”

“I can’t really move it,” I said, frowning at my immobile leg. “Is that normal?”

“It’s the cast,” Woojin explained. “Do you feel well enough to talk to your alphas?”

I groaned at the idea of dealing with their high-strung whining, mothering me to the point where I felt suffocated. Woojin grinned. “I can tell them you’re still sleeping.”

“Maybe for tonight,” I agreed.

Not because I didn’t love them, of course, but because they could turn into an absolute nightmare when their alpha instincts insisted I was on my deathbed as opposed to a sterile hospital cot frowning down at my new cast. 

It would be a long recovery.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I could feel Chan everywhere. 

I tried not to wince at the pain, instead focusing on the growing bond, ignoring the way his teeth sank into my wrist, eyes bright with a vivid orange color. Instead, I only thought about Chan and it made the pain bearable. I thought about his lovely hair, naturally curly, thick strands soft between my fingers. I thought about his gorgeous eyes or the wicked slope of his nose. I thought about his handsome features, and how his smile completely eclipsed even the lowest of my moods. I thought about his warm voice and familiar scent, the rich smell of pine that reminded me of my childhood.

I thought about the way Chan made love to me, treating me like I was fragile. His body covering mine, sheltering me under his protective form. His soft kisses drawing small moans, encouraging him to give more. His pulsing cock inside of me, filling me to the brim with all the love he could give. A special kind of love incomparable to the way I felt with Jisung or Changbin.

Because Chan was encompassing. He was everywhere, present at all the points in my life I could remember, good or bad. And he filled all my empty places, the darkest parts of myself that I hated, but he managed to bring light to them all. He was everything I needed to feel complete, marked by three alpha wolves who would do absolutely anything my heart desired.

I was finally me.

[witharsenicsauce]

Chosen Stories From the War #26: The House That Death Forgot, Part 2

(Content Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of broken bones/gore)

“This is Taymallat. I am alive-”

“This is Taymallat. I am alive-”

“I am alive-”

Annette hit the stop button on the recording, sighing as she did. “I was hoping no one would hear it.”

“Then why did you send it?” Gur-Rai crossed his arms and began to lean back against the wall, but stopped himself.. They were back in the hidden room, the door only partially closed as they weren’t sure they’d ever get it open if they shut it all the way. Dhar-Mon had cleared away some of the cobwebs, but it was still dark and airless, not a window in sight.

“Because I had just arrived here.” Annette looked exhausted. “I didn’t know.”

“About the girl?” Kon-Mai asked. “How much of a threat does she pose?”

“More than you could realize.” Annette didn’t look at the Chosen when she spoke to them. Though Zhang had explained to her that these aliens were on their side, she still seemed wary. “I arrived here on the 18th of August in 2038. If it is indeed 2040 as you say…” Annette swallowed, her throat dry, and looked at her hands. “Then I have been here nearly 2 years.”

“Why didn’t you just leave?” Bryni asked. “Sure that gate’s a bit rusty, but from what I hear, there’s a back way.”

Annette shook her head. “ You really should not have come.” She hissed. “I know about the back garden. I know about the sewers, and vents. I even scaled the gate, and the walls themselves. And each time, I would turn around and be right back where I started, as though the world had inverted itself. There is no leaving this place.”

In the silence that hung in the air, Kon-Mai stood. “There must be a way.” She declared. “If there is escape from the Elders, then there is certainly escape from this Hell.”

“Escaping the Elders nearly took our deaths.” Dhar-Mon mentioned as he stood up. “I would not be so flippant with this.”

“Either way, we won’t get anything done sitting in this box.” Gur-Rai slid the door open, poked his head out, and nodded. “Coast is clear. Taymallat, did you do any exploring in the two years you were here?”

“As much as I could while fleeing a psychotic woman with a shotgun.” With her finger and began drawing in the dust on the ground. “The house is technically four stories. We are on the second floor, you’ve seen the first with the foyer.” She drew a roof. “But there is an attic, here under the roof, and down this way is the basement. I believe there may be a fifth level under that as well.”

“What makes you believe so?” Kon-Mai asked as she leaned in close.

“Once while I was hiding in the wine cellar, I found a large door hidden behind shelves and barricaded with strong wood.” Annette answered. “I couldn’t get it open though, even with my power…”

Gur-Rai chuckled. “What do you think, Brother? Can you rip a door off its hinges?”

Dhar-Mon sighed. “You insult me, Brother, to insinuate I am only useful for my brawn.”

“Oh hey now, I never said that.” Gur-Rai walked over and wrapped his arms around Dhar-Mon from behind, resting his chin on top of his big brother’s head. “You’re also the best cook I’ve ever known.”

Annette looked between the three Chosen. “You three are related?”

“Yes.” Kon-Mai raised a brow. “What revealed it, our coloring?”

“I should have guessed.” Annette looked closer. “Same nose. Same eyes. And you two.” She pointed between Kon-Mai and Gur-Rai. “You have the same chin.”

“No mention of cheekbones?” Gur-Rai chuckled. “They’re our best feature if I do say so myself.”

Annette got to her feet, approaching Zhang who stood with his back against the wall, seemingly not bothered by the dust. “...Do you trust them?” She whispered.

Zhang raised a brow.

“I do not like working with aliens, even if they look so human.” She gave Gur-Rai a side eye glance, and he smirked at her. “But if you trust them, I’ll bite my tongue.”

Zhang looked over at Kon-Mai, who had to remain crouched because she was taller than the ceiling.

“Do you trust them, Chilong?” Annette asked. “Can I trust them?”

Zhang swallowed the dry lump in his throat. “...Yes.”  He said quietly. “The Commander herself selected them.”

Annette’s eyebrows shot up, and then she chuckled. “Oh Sunny, qu'est-ce que tu fais?” She turned to the Chosen and nodded. “You are right, we should not stay here. If she finds us we are sitting ducks..”

“Shame. This was such a good hiding spot.” Gur-Rai quipped as they fileb back out into the hall. “What’s our plan, Colonel?”

Zhang sighed, gazing around the house, the familiar walls, that used to be covered in pictures of them. “...Basement.” He said. “We’re going to get that door open.”

.

.

The basement was dark, damp, and smelled of rot. Dhar-Mon could see more spiders in the corners, and Gur-Rai had to flick away a cockroach skittering up his leg. The stone walls held the dirt at bay, but they could see roots growing through the cracks in the rocks. The wine cellar, perhaps once a thing of beauty that held a collection of the finest wine, was overgrown with moss and dust, hiding the bottles in a layer of grime.

“It’s behind there.” Annette pointed to one of the shelves decorated with bottles. “I managed to move the shelf, but the door behind it is stuck tight.”

Dhar-Mon stepped closer and...staggered. As he drew within range of the entrance, the smell of rotting eggs and metal hit him full force, making him feel deeply sick.

Gur-Rai jumped forward and caught his brother by the arm. “Woah, easy there. You okay?”

Dhar-Mon nodded, but the world was still spinning. “...The air in this place is old.” He said. “I am...simply breathless.”

Kon-Mai stepped up, took the shelf by the edge, and hauled it to one side. It slid part of the way, unblocking a corner of the door. She looked up at the others, a brow raised, and Zhang came over to help her. Taking hold of the other side, he shoved it in tandem with her, and the doorway cleared.

Doorway was a loose term. The “door” was made of thick stone, and looked like it might have had a handle once, but that was long gone. As the shelf was pulled away, the smell of rot grew stronger, and Dhar-Mon fought the urge to double over.

“This is where I got stuck.” Annette said. “I couldn't get through the door on my own.”

“It’s barely a door.” Bryni said, knocking on the stone. “Amontillado! Ya in there?” She chuckled.

“If I shoot it it might come down.” Gur-Rai reached for his gun.

“It might also bring the ceiling down on top of us.” Kon-Mai replied. “Brothers. Colonel Zhang. Let us join our power.”

Zhang looked at her skeptically.

“That is how we opened the door to rescue you.” She explained, putting her hand on the stone. “Perhaps alone we are not strong enough, but together…”

“I’ve never been a good psion, but it’s worth a shot.” Gur-Rai stepped up beside his sister. “You coming, Brother?”

Dhar-Mon hesitated: every cell in his body was screaming at him to turn around, run, run away from this cursed place, and do not open that door, but he still put his hand on the stone beside them and closed his eyes. Behind him, he felt Malinalli’s touch on his back, and all of a sudden felt a bit more at ease.

The door jolted, then slowly slid open. The Shrinemaiden stepped back, letting Gur-Rai peek his head inside. Dhar-Mon almost stumbled back against Malinalli, the stench of sulfur suddenly engulfing him. His ears were ringing and under the screeching, he heard a rising growl.

Gur-Rai drew his gun, undoubtedly feeling the surge of psionic energy as he took one step inside the pitch black room. “...Hello?”

Nothing. For a moment, it seemed as though they had imagined it.

Then a growl came from the darkness, and four weathered, clawed hands dragged their way into the light. Kon-Mai stumbled backwards into Zhang, her heart pounding.

From behind them, a scream. Annette drew her gun whirled around, pointing it at the girl in the blue skirt, who had come up behind them silently. She was slightly dirty and her shirt was torn but, for falling such a way, there were no injuries anyone could see. She cocked her own shotgun, pointing it not at them, but past them into the black room.

“Ano ang ginawa mo?!” She screamed. “Pinakawalan mo siya!”

“What is she saying?” Kon-Mai demanded, drawing her blade.

“I don’t know!” Annette snapped as she removed the safety on her gun. But before the three could lunge at each other, a rumbling groan shook the very foundation of the house.

“She said…” Zhang cried as he stumbled “...We released ‘him’.”

It was then that Gur-Rai let out a scream, and Dhar-Mon dove in and grabbed his brother by the arm. One of the gnarled limbs had taken Gur-Rai by the leg and was attempting to drag him into the darkness. He fired a shot at the unseen enemy, but it’s grip did not even falter, and it’s hold on him grew even tighter.

Kon-Mai sprang into action, letting out a catlike hiss as she dove forward and sliced off the limb that was attached to her brother’s leg. The creature cried out in agony, and as the limp arm dropped, purple ichor seeped into the floor. From the darkness, a pair of lilac eyes opened and glared at them.

“What the fuck is that?!” Gur-Rai spate as he scrambled back to safety, not sure if he should aim at the girl who had a gun pointed at him, or the monster that was trying to drag him to Hell.

The other three hands sprang forth, searching wildly for something—or someone—to grab onto. Zhang barely managed to duck out of the way of it’s grasp, leading it to clutch the edges of the door frame. With all it’s dormant strength, the creature pulled itself forward, growling as it emerged into the light.

Perhaps growling was the wrong word: the creature had no mouth, and the noises it made could rather be heard deep in the souls of all who stood close. Tattered robes hung off it’s emaciated body, and rather than walk, it hovered toward them like a ghost.

“It can’t be…” Bryni gasped. “That’s…”

“An Elder.” Dhar-Mon was as pale as the moon, his eyes wide with total abject horror. Kon-Mai stumbled backward, her breathing quickening against her will and her body shaking like a leaf in a storm. As he was perhaps the only one still with his faculties, Gur-Rai got to his feet and grabbed his siblings by their arms. 

“RUN!”

They did not need to be told twice. 

Bryni, Annette, Malinalli, all three Chosen, and Colonel Zhang all took off up the stairs. Zhang looked around, searching for the girl in the blue skirt, but she had already disappeared like the wind.

Behind them, they heard the walls of the basement crumble, and a plume of dust erupted as the Elder, barely more than a mummified corpse, burst out from the rubble and used it’s bent limbs to drag it’s body through the wooden hallways, crawling almost as fast as the group ran. Annette ducked into a small room to their left and Bryni and Zhang followed, but the Chosen and Malinalli seemed to not notice, focusing only on sprinting as fast as they could.

The Chosen were fast; with their long legs and superhuman strength, speed had never been an issue for them. But now that this thing was scuttling towards them like a spider out of hell, they just could not seem to make their legs move fast enough. Dhar-Mon scooped Malinalli into his arms, her short stature meaning she’d been falling behind, and Kon-Mai began to slow, her tired body still trembling.

“Don’t you dare!” Gur-Rai grabbed her hand and pulled her along. “Keep fucking going!”

The hallway ended in an open door, light pouring through it like the pearly gates of paradise, and they all made a mad dash for it. The Elder  was close on their heels, screaming at them in garbled Etheric. One clawed hand reached out and closed around Kon-Mai’s leg, sending her falling and splaying across the floor, her leg bending in a way it was never meant to bend.

Gur-Rai turned and aimed his gun at the monster and unloaded a shot right into the Elder’s purple eye. While it did next to nothing to actually hurt it, the wound did make it loosen its grip on Kon-Mai long enough for her to crawl away towards her brother, who looped his arm under hers and pulled her along into the sanctuary of the open door.

Dhar-Mon put Malinalli down and slammed the door closed, taking his hammer off his back and sticking it under the handle. Malinalli rushed over to Kon-Mai, who Gur-Rai was helping down into a seated position. 

He took a look at her leg and turned white as a sheet. “Oh.”

“It’s alright.” Kon-Mai tried to assure him. “I am fine, it doesn’t hurt.” She chuckled, perhaps to try and calm her own nerves. “It cannot be that bad.”

“Konnie.” Malinalli dropped beside her. “Don’t look now, but it definitely is that bad.”

Despite the warning, Kon-Mai looked. At first, it looked like she’d been impaled with something sharp, like a pipe. Then she saw that the object was red, and white, and…

It was her bone. She had a compound fracture. But that...didn’t make sense. She’d had broken bones before, much worse than this. And this felt nothing like it.

“It does not hurt.” Kon-Mai insisted. “At all.”

“Well, that’s good at least.” Gur-Rai patted her shoulder.

“Unless you’re in shock.” Malinalli pulled on some Nitrile gloves. “Dhar-Mon, is that door blocked?”

“Yes.” He assured her. “But I hear the...creature stalking the hall on the other side.”

“You know if that thing wanted to, it could break down the door.” Gur-Rai said, sliding down to sit beside his sister. “I can’t believe we found an Elder in the basement…”

“Perhaps it is weak. It may not pose as much of a threat as we believe.” Kon-Mai suggested. “Did you recognize it, Brother?”

“I was a bit too busy running for my life to ask if it was our long lost uncle.” Gur-Rai grimaced.

Dhar-Mon turned from the door. “...It’s aura was not one that I recognized.” He replied to her. “I did not know there were others besides those we knew; those who created us.”

“Weren’t there a few Elders that XCOM killed in the Early War?” Malinalli asked as she began fussing with trying to set the bone back in place. “Maybe that was one of them.”

“It’s very possible.” Dhar-Mon said. “But why is it here? In this place?”

“I have a more pressing question.” Gur-Rai stood up. 

“More pressing than the Elder trying to kill us?” Malinalli raised a brow.

“Absolutely. Where the fuck is Zhang?”

.

.

Zhang hauled Bryni to her feet, and she waved him away. “I’m fine.” She insisted. “I’m fine. Just kinda winded.”

“La baise qui était?” Annette spat, panting as she leaned against the wall. “Was that...it can’t be a…”

“That was an Ethereal.” Zhang growled. “An Ethereal. In the basement, locked away like a demon.”

“Looked kinda scraggly for an Ethereal.” Bryni said. “Ain’t they supposed to be all godly-like?”

“They are mortal, Firebrand, just like us.” Zhang pulled his pistol from his belt and cocked it. “I need to find Malinalli. She is definitely in danger.”

“She’s in danger?!” Annette looked at him like he was insane. “WE are in danger, Chilong!”

“I promised Senuna I’d protect her.” Zhang glared at Annette. “We cannot be split up for long, that thing will go after someone, and if it goes after them…” He couldn’t finish that sentence. “Sunny would never forgive me.”

“She is not yours to worry about, Chilong.” Annette insisted. “We will be lucky if any of us get out of here alive!”

“Thanks, that’s helpful.” Bryni said, one hand on her hip. “I’m with ol’ Chilong here. Molly’s my pal, and bless her heart she couldn’t hit a standing target if it picked up the gun and shot itself.” She pulled her gun off her back. “If it comes at her and she ain’t got the others to carry her off, that demon’ll drag her right on down to Hell.”

Annette rubbed her hands over her face in utter exasperation. “Do you even know where to look?”

“I think I saw her and the Blue Man Group take off down the hall.”

“Then we must follow the hallway.” Zhang looked at Annette. “Will you stay here or come?”

Annette squeezed her eyes shut. “I never should have sent for help.” She drew her own, worn out pistol. “Let's find them, Chilong.”

“Righty-ho!” Bryni flung the door open and screamed.

The girl in the blue skirt, her eyes wild with fury, shoved Bryni inside and pointed her shotgun right in her face. “Walang hiya ka, punyeta!” She spat, Bryni backing away.

“What is she saying?!” Bryni let out a yelp, stumbling and falling and continuing to try and crawl away. The girl took her shot, missed as Bryni rolled off to the side, and Annette pointed her gun at the girl.

“Wait!” Zhang raised his hands. “Don’t shoot!”

“Nakulong siya!” The girl looked up at them, her eyes glowing purple and her black hair floating around her shoulders. “Sino ka?! Bakit ka napunta?!”

“We don’t speak Tagalog!” Annette spat. She pointed at the shotgun in the girl's hands. “Gun! Down!”

The girl instead put up her middle finger and pointed her gun at Annette.

“Bulan.” Zhang’s voice was calm as he stepped between the two women, looking at the girl with the blue skirt right in her glowing eyes. “Mangyaring huwag saktan kami.”

Annette and Bryni looked up at Zhang in disbelief, Annette moreso, but neither of them could match the horror that appeared on the girl’s face as he said her name.

“...Shaojie?” She stammered, her voice weak and cracked.

He nodded, his hands still raised. “Narito ako upang matulungan, Bulan.”

Bulan’s look of disbelief morphed on her face into a look so full of hate it sent chills down Zhang’s spine. “Ang iyong "tulong" ay pinatay sa atin.” She cocked her shotgun and pointed it in Zhang’s face. He took a step backward, closing his eyes as he prepared for his end...and the sound of a pistol going off sent his ear ringing. 

Bulan collapsed to the ground unceremoniously, her body crumpled like a sheet.

Annette shook her pistol, which was smoking. Turning on her, Zhang snapped. “Why did you do that?”

“Why…?” Annette looked at him in disbelief. “Chilong, she had a gun pointed at your face!”

“What’d you call her, Colonel?” Bryni asked as she scrambled to her feet. “What’s that word? Bu-lahn?”

“Bulan…” He stared down at the body of the girl, blood staining her white shirt. “Her name is...was Bulan Kepa.” 

“And how do you know that, Chilong?” Annette asked. “She’s a teenage girl, I doubt you were friends before the war.”

“I know.” He almost whispered. “I don’t know how to explain this.”

“Well, start at the beginnin’.” Bryni continued to pry.

“When I was part of the Triad, our client was a Filipino man who owed us almost 2 million dollars.” He whispered. “They...we kidnapped his children. All of them. I was only 18, and the oldest girl was no more than two years younger.”

Bryni looked down at Bulan’s body. “...Heavens to Betsy…” She looked up at Zhang. “...And that’s her, is it?”

“She knew me.” He muttered. “She recognized me. Said my help was what doomed them to begin with.”

Annette grabbed his hand. “Chilong, now is no time to dwell on this. Did you just say we need to find the child?”

“Yes.” He looked to Annette. “And she’s not a child anymore.”

“Old habits.” She pulled him out of the room, gesturing for Bryni to follow.

As they closed the door, Bulan’s arm twitched violently.

.

.

Malinalli wrapped the gauze tightly around Kon-Mai’s leg. “That’s the best I can do for now.”

“That is fine.” Kon-Mai insisted. “I told you, it does not hurt.”

“It should hurt.” Dhar-Mon insisted, laying glowing hands over his sister’s leg. “Are you dizzy? Cold?”

She shook her head. “My leg is slightly numb. Other than that, it does not feel broken in the slightest.” She looked down at her leg. “How can you tell it’s healing?”

“I...can feel it.” He sighed. “That is a lie, I cannot feel it. In fact at the moment, I cannot feel anything but turmoil and unrest.”

“Probably because of the monster that’s traipsing around outside.” Gur-Rai said, his ear pressed to the door. “I can hear him muttering.”

“Could we speak to it?” Kon-Mai asked. “Perhaps it shall cease it’s attacks.”

“That sounds like a bad idea.” Malinalli said as she looked to Dhar-Mon. “...But we might at least find out what it’s doing here.”

Dhar-Mon looked away from Kon-Mai. “Brother, will you guard the door?”

“Sure thing.” Gur-Rai gave him a thumbs up.

“Malinalli, I ask that you take my hand.” He said. “An Elder’s mind is strong and terrible, and two minds stand a better chance than one alone.”

“Of course.” She took Dhar-Mon’s hands and sat across from him. She felt a click, their minds linking like they had so many times before. This time, the two reached out with their collective consciousness, looking for other signals.

As they settled into their trance, Kon-Mai got to her feet, testing her leg. There was no pain. It was stiff, but she still had most of the feeling in it. It didn’t feel broken.

“Something is quite wrong here.” She said.

“Oh really?” Gur-Rai crossed his arms and leaned his back against the door. “What tipped you off?”

Kon-Mai sighed. “Beyond the Elder in the basement.”

“I feel like that’s a pretty big development, Sister.” He looked behind him, as though he were waiting for something to slam against the door. Thankfully, nothing came.

Kon-Mai began to sift through the papers adorning the tables and desks. The room was too small to be a library, but the array of books gave it the impression it was at least used as a study.

“These photos are quite faded.” She held one up. “The color has washed away. It’s monochrome now.”

“Give it here.” Gur-Rai held his hand out, and Kon-Mai brought the photo into his waiting hand. He only took a glance at it before laughing. “Oh Sister, are you that naive?”

“What?” She growled.

“This is a black and white photograph.” He waggled it toward her. “Humans didn’t always have digital scanning technology, you know. God, you would have died in the film days.”

“I knew that.” Kon-Mai crossed her arms and Gur-Rai could see in her face that she, in fact, did not know that. “Why do you think it is here?”

“Who knows? Could be an old photo.” He examined it in more detail. “Maybe an old family…hm.” He looked closer. “Hey, Kon-Mai, remember the girl who attacked us?”

“I could not forget her if I tried.” She said.

He turned the photo around. “Is it just me, or does that look like her?”

“The quality is such that it doesn’t look like much of anything.” Kon-Mai took the photo back and squinted at it again.

It was indeed a family photo, and a large family at that. An older man and a woman stood on either side of the group, the man wearing a business suit and looking very proper and the woman dressed in what was almost a ball gown, with high padded shoulders and a fan in her hand. Between them, five children of varying ages stood, the youngest being an infant that was held by one of the other children. Smack in the middle, the tallest girl stood, as though she were connecting it all.

Kon-Mai brought it closer. “If it is her, she is younger here.”

“Why’s it in black and white then?” Gur-Rai held up his fingers. “For one thing, if that was taken before the invasion, and I’ll bet you it was, everyone had color photography by 2015. Why would they be using shitty film?”

“Perhaps it is niche?” Kon-Mai reasoned.

“Okay, but also consider.” Gur-Rai held up a second finger. “The invasion happened 25 years ago. That girl was barely older than a teenager.”

“Perhaps she looks young for her age.” Kon-Mai said. “Malinalli is 26 and she looks incredibly young.”

“She’d be at least forty, now.”

“There are forty year olds that look young.”

“Okay, guard the door for me for a second.” He pulled away from his spot, and Kon-Mai leaned against it, watching as her brother began to rifle through the papers on the table.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“Well Sister. I have one last question for you.” He held up the photo again. “This looks like the same family, yes?” He held it up to a Philippine newspaper, folded neatly and covered in dust.

The glossy photo in his hand, while not a direct match, greatly resembled the photo of the family plastered across the front page, under boldly printed letters Kon-Mai couldn’t decipher.

“...It appears so.”

“Okay. So answer this.” He held it up and pointed to the date on the paper. “So why is this newspaper dated back to 1960?”

.

.

Zhang and Bryni poked their heads out into the hall, Bryni holding her breath. Annette guarded them from behind, her eyes darting around wildly. “Mon Dieu.” She whimpered. “I can feel him in my head. I can’t tell if he’s right behind us or on the other side of the property.”

“His psionic field is overpowering.” Zhang agreed.

“Y’all managed to kill these fuckers before, right?!” Bryni hissed. “How’d you do that?”

“We shot at them until they exploded.” Zhang grumbled.

“Ah.”

Zhang gestured for them to move, and the three crept along the hallway.

“Where ya think they ran off to?” Annette asked.

“I don’t know.” Zhang looked around them. “...This was the Father’s wing.”

“He had a wing?” Annette asked.

“He was quite wealthy.” Zhang replied. “We are near the study.”

“Maybe they went-” Annette broke off. “...I hear him.”

“The Ethereal?” Bryni gasped. “What’s he saying.”

Annette grimaced in pain, clutching her head. “I...I don’t know. He’s speaking but I can’t understand!”

“The three speak Etheric!” Bryni said. “I’ll be you they could-”

“It’s not Etheric!” Annette shook her head violently. “It’s all turned around...I hear French, Russian, Etheric and Chinese, it’s like his mind is...it’s a soup, a mosh pit of stimuli.”

“Don’t try to reach out.” Zhang knelt beside her, his hand on her shoulder. “Block him out. You can do it.”

“He’s too strong.”

“No he’s not. You are stronger, Taymallat.” He insisted. “I have seen you kill these things before.”

“That was different.” She looked up, tears in her eyes. “I wasn’t so scared back then.”

“Courage is not the absence of fear.” Zhang said. “Courage is remaining steadfast even when fear consumes you.”

Annette took a deep breath, gripping his arms as she did. “You’re right.”

“I know.” He helped her to her feet, looking around. He, too, could feel the Ethereal’s forceful tug. Anyone with a glimmer of psionic attitude could probably feel it. Cautiously, Zhang reached out.

Annette was right. The Ethereal’s mind was a mess of words and sounds and feelings. If Zhang had been less experienced it would have sent him reeling, and even now he was having trouble keeping himself from slipping into the chaos that was this creature’s mind.

He lingered a moment longer, looking for...something. He wasn’t sure what, but within the mass of images, he saw a group of weathered Ethereals standing in a circle. Most were purple. One had pale white skin and eyes that were more green than blue. One glimmered with gold light.

He pulled free, nearly collapsing beside Annette, his head still swimming from the madness. But now, at least, he could hear his voice, and he heard it clearly.

“Masha. Shamash. Coming. Come. Take me home. Take me home. Take me home.”

.

.

It felt as though something was interfering with their attempts, trying to stop Malinalli and Dhar-Mon from reaching out to connect to whatever it was. Perhaps pushing forward was unwise.

They did it anyway.

Malinalli found herself soaring through the dark and damp hallways, moving as though she was flying. Purple energy surrounded her. Her arm hurt but…

Not her arm. Humans had two arms but when she looked down, she had four, all long and gangly. She squeezed Dhar-Mon’s hands, just to keep herself grounded in reality.

The creature...the Elder...didn’t know she was there. She assumed it couldn’t feel her over the static already coursing through it’s synapses.

“Stay with me, little phantom.” With Dhar-Mon’s words she was pulled away, her perspective changing so she was now outside the Ethereal, looking toward it. She had not seen many Ethereals, only the Elders, and that had been through Dhar-Mon’s own lens. 

But she could tell this one was in bad, bad shape. It’s robes (they looked different from the robes the Elders wore) were ragged, half torn and slightly burnt. There seemed to be holes in it’s grey skin, exposing green bits of rotting tissue and muscle. It could barely fly anymore: instead of gliding gracefully, it’s already bent feet dragged along the wooden ground, scraping off even more skin and leaving droplets of glowing blood..

She looked to the hand Kon-Mai had cut off. The hand that had hurt. Grey flesh, though rotten and crusted, encased an entirely new digit, like an embryo.

“It can heal itself.” She thought.

“Impossible.” She heard Dhar-Mon almost beside her, but it felt more within her. “Their power is great and nearly limitless, but even the Elders cannot regrow limbs.”

But it wasn’t impossible. They saw it, right there. Malinalli reached forward with the hand she wasn’t sure was there but she hoped was. She felt Dhar-Mon pulling back for a moment, before he followed her movement, extending their reach, grasping outward…

The Ethereal reeled back. It had seen them, and now they could hear—they could see—within its mind, or rather it’s mess of a mind. Words, some in Etheric, some complete gibberish, and a few Malinalli understood, came at them like a wave of alphabet soup. Malinalli almost broke under the immense pressure, but she calmed her breath, stood her ground, and held.

The Ethereal saw them now, it’s purple, sunken eyes breaking through them like hot coals. It threw words at them like rocks. “Who? Who? Who dares? Ethereal? Alaukika? Alaukika?”

Ethereal. It thought they, or at least Dhar-Mon, was one of its own kind.

“Yes.” Malinalli said, hoping to pacify it. “Ethereals. That’s us.”

Instead of calming, the Ethereal’s power flared, like she had thrown gasoline on a fire. “Aus Alaukika.” It lifted it’s four arms. “Not Ethereal. Mortal. Mortal.”

She felt Dhar-Mon press in front her her, his more powerful mind blocking the psionic assault that was aimed at her. “Xyuas tousal.”

The Ethereal’s own power seemed to draw back, almost in confusion.

“Identify yourself.” Dhar-Mon said again, and this time she could understand him.

The Ethereal’s mind was a blank slate, but through the maze of confusion and pain, one word emerged.

“Ya’uq.” It said.

She could tell Dhar-Mon did not recognize that name. “How did you come to be here?” He asked.

More silence. Then, a ship, great and black and…like the Temple but different. It felt younger. A menacing fifty Ethereals stood in a circle, most grey with purple eyes save for the two who stood at the front. One shimmered with golden light. The other, green and blue, and as she gazed into the pale white face of that Ethereal, Malinalli felt her chest tighten, as though a painful memory had been dug from her psyche.

“Shamash.” Ya’uq focused his purple light on the one that was glowing gold. “Where is Shamash? They shall come. They shall save me. They promised.”

Dhar-Mon’s fear was palpable as he spoke. “...There is no Shamash.” He said. “I know only Bhandasura, and Camazotz...and Abyzou.”

“Abyzou.” The Ethereal said the name gently. “...Child.”

“Child?”

“Daughter of Shamash. Child of the Sun. Child.” He sounded sad. “Only a child.”

Dhar-Mon growled. “She is no child. She is a monster.”

“Dhar-Mon.” Malinalli said quietly. “Don’t.”

Ya’uq did not seem to respond at first, so Dhar-Mon continued. “Who brought you here? Who are you?”

Another moment of silence before they were bombarded with words: “Hammon. Ilah. Jabal. Lugal. Wadd. Suwa. Tamtu. Shamash…” 

The names began to blend into each other, and Dhar-Mon recognized none of them. Each Ethereal had a face, a name, an identifying feature and yet, he could not say he’d ever seen them before. He knew there had been other Ethereals who had come before, who had died long before his birth in the Early War, but he did not hear the names of Reue or Imdugud, or those he rarely spoke to like Xezbeth or Tiyanak, or even the names of his mother and fathers.

But at the end, there was one name. One name he knew, a name that made Malinalli shriek loud enough to sever the connection.

“Senuna.”

.

.

Gur-Rai caught Malinalli as she stumbled backward, holding her head. “Woah there, I’m no matador and you’re no bull, so quit charging.” He led her to the table and she leaned over it, feeling like she was about to vomit. “Well? What did you find?”

“There were others.” Dhar-Mon said. He was still on the floor, and Kon-Mai had abandoned the door to kneel beside him and help him. “The Ethereal that stalks these halls is called Ya’uq. He came to this place with a cohort of forty-nine others.”

“Fifty in total? Mom always said there were only about twenty Ethereals when they came.” Gur-Rai puzzled.

“He does not know the Elders. Our Elders.” Dhar-Mon shook his head, his eyes still closed as though the light hurt his eyes. “He knew Abyzou, but…”

“It seems like he knew her as a kid…” Malinalli finally choked out. “He called her a child.”

“Well she definitely acts like a child.” Kon-Mai muttered.

“He called her the daughter of Shamash.” Dhar-Mon added. “And then, it named Shamash as one of the Ethereals who led them here. Their eyes were gold.”

Kon-Mai and Gur-Rai looked at each other in confusion. “I don’t remember a gold ethereal.” Gur-Rai said.

“He knows Senuna.” Malinalli finally added, sinking back to the floor.

The silence that followed was uncertain. Kon-Mai spoke up first. “She is the Commander. He would know her if he fought-”

“No.” Malinalli turned to face her. “He knew her because she came here with him.”

“Came here...what?” Gur-Rai looked thoroughly confused.

“He named the Ethereals he came here with. Named every single one.” She clasped her hands. “And he said Senuna. I heard it clear as day.”

A light tapping on the door knocked the three of them from their stupors, and Kon-Mai drew her blade again. “Is it him?”

“I don't care to know.” Gur-Rai said as he pointed his gun at the door.

The tapping came again, rhythmically, almost like knocking. Dhar-Mon stood, and Malinalli stepped towards the door.

“Should we open it?”

“No.” Kon-Mai asserted.

“What if it’s the others?”

“What if it is not?”

The knocking grew into a loud banging. “HEY! Y’ALL ALIVE IN THERE?!”

“It is them!” Dhar-Mon took his hammer away from the door and opened it, moving out of the way as Bryni stumbled in, followed closely by Zhang as he pulled Annette along by the hand.

“Xièxiè tiāntáng, nǐ hái hǎo.” Zhang cried as he saw Malinalli. “...You look troubled, young one. What happened?”

Malinalli and Dhar-Mon looked at each other with unease.

Zhang knelt in front of her, horror in his eyes. “What did you see?”

.

.

The moon would be full that night, as it always was. She drew her power from that moon.

The door to the attic creaked as it opened. Bulan Kepa stumbled inside, her clothes soaked in her own blood. But the wound on her neck was healed, pink skin covering the scar that would fade with the dawn.

She could not worry about herself though. Not right now. She looked around at the four beds, the ones that needed her the most.

The first one she checked on was the baby. Marikit always had trouble sleeping, and that was true tonight: her baby sister stared up at her as she wheezed, her wrinkled skin pulled tight over bones. Bulan lifted her from the crib, trying to bounce her to comfort her, and the infant’s skin blistered under her touch.

Laarni was next to check on: the baby before the baby. She at least was sleeping through the undoubtedly incredible pain. The second eldest of the girls, Diwata, followed Bulan around the room with glazed eyes, her lips pulled taut against yellow teeth. 

Bulan could hear Ali and Isanagi rising into sitting positions. She went to their beds, pushing them back down, crooning at them to “Sleep, sleep, please sleep.”

But her siblings did not sleep. Instead, each one sat up and stared at her with open eyes.

Bulan sat in the center of their beds, facing the attic window that looked out to the glowing flowers in the garden. With her corpse-like sister in her arms and tears brimming in her eyes, Bulan began to sing.

“Ili-ili tulog anay,

Wala diri imong nanay.

Kadto tienda bakal papay.

Ili-ili tulog anay.”

.

.

.

.

.

Summery: The chapter begins with Annette replaying the message she sent to XCOM, and lamenting that she sent it without knowing the full severity of the situation. The house is apparently impossible to escape, as every time she has tried, she has wound up back in the house. With few other options, the group agrees to check the basement, where Annette had found a sealed off room. Using their combined psionics, they are able to get the door open, only to reveal that a near-death Ethereal had been sealed behind the wall, much to the shock of the house’s resident. After being chased through the halls, the group is separated in two, and Kon-Mai suffers a compound fracture in her leg while escaping. Mysteriously, the injury does not hurt her at all. After treating Kon-Mai’s wound, Malinalli and Dhar-Mon attempt to make contact with the Ethereal, to perhaps convince it to let them leave. Zhang, Bryni and Annette, having been separated from the other group, opt to go looking for them before they are confronted by the girl in the blue skirt, whom Zhang knows and is able to speak to. While she is hostile and the confrontation leads to her being shot by Annette, Zhang reveals that in his youth as a Triad member, the girl—Bulan Kepa—was among one of the kidnapping victims. While they resolve to find the others, Malinalli and Dhar-Mon establish contact with the Ethereal, Ya’uq, who reveals that he has never met most of the Ethereals from the Early War, but came here with a coalition of fifty Ethereals, one of whom seems to have been Senuna.

(Like I said in my little announcement, this was supposed to only be two chapters, but I am a terrible procrastinator, and I also feel like I have too much planned for this finale to have crammed it all into one chapter. That being said, this is so fun to finally get out there, and this one off spooky story is giving us some real insight into the lore~)

Archive

[kat-hawke]

Uull lwhuk h'iwn

(Following [Ul basha krix])

Only a few days had passed since her previous trip to Uldum, but the spread of darkness had shifted as if it had been a year. Stretching further across the sanders, the sky was now littered with platforms and towering structures of obsidian, all of which held that red glow and carved scripture. The sight alone sent chills running over Kat’s shoulders and down her spine, the power in the air nearly tangible.

"Kat...” Alyssa spoke up, no doubt feeling the shift in environmental power. “I think it's time to tell me what your goal is out here. I can't help if you don't."

"The same as it was before. There's already souls out here for the taking, little to no effort." Kat’s answer was vague as she stared at the gateway to Ny’alotha at the opposite end of the river.

"You're building to something.  You need them for a reason.... My soul is as dark as yours.  You can trust me.  You have to, or I won't keep doing my part in this."

Annoyance quickly swept over her emotion at the vague threat. Pausing for a moment as her gaze shifted to the twisted fields below. Attempting to simply force the warlock into submission would likely yield poor results and she was right, some trust had to be given.

"Saving your soul will require quite a bit of power and untained essence to weave in the damaged parts that the fel would leave in it's absence. There's also the matter of my own, which... I'm still unsure of, I've tried in the past but was never successful." An honest answer, though lacking detail.

"Okay." A pause, as if she’d let the conversation end there. "Your soul has changed, noticeably. I'm concerned. Don't just dismiss it."

"It's always changing, a constant flux. I step too close to a Ren'dorei or Lightforged it spikes one way or the other." Kat clearly dismissive, against Alyssa’s warning.

"Not like this Kat.  The outline has changed, the dark is darker.  I've seen what more or less looks like. This is new."

A quiet exhale against the mask pulled up over the lower face as her gaze dropped to the stone beneath her feet. Alyssa was right and she knew it, everything she experienced during the dagger’s absence put the risks in a true perspective and her fears were becoming a reality.

‘Gag yoh'ghyl og hoq uul'gwa.’ The clawing whisper interjected.

"It's fine." She dismissed the topic, again, as she set off to descend upon the site of torment cells.

"Stop saying that!"  Alyssa's voice comes with more force this time, anger bubbling up in it. "What did you say the other day? 'I should have listened to you?' Get out of your own ass and listen to me, I'm trying to keep you alive."

"What do you want me to say?!" She snapped back, nearly losing her footing on the crumbling walkway. "That this shit scares me? You think I don't know the risks? Or that I'd be out here for someone other than myself? I know, okay... I know. I'm trusting you to keep me safe, do I need to say that?"

"I want you to accept that this isn't normal, that you can't keep going the same way you are.  Something came back with you from Uldum."

"Yeah, I uh...” Previous denial began to crumble as Alyssa spoke, realizing the folly in her former plan and giving into the whispers of the obelisk she restored within her own home. “I stole one of the cultists tomes. It's back at home though." Another half truth.

"Maybe that was it, but it's stuck to you more than just that."  Alyssa held a hint of that fear in her voice. "It hears us and sees us. I'm sure of that."

"Darling, if you could see the world right now you'd understand just how much of an understatement that is." There was a hint of amusement in her tone, but no less serious than she typically was as she scanned the horizon of growing appendages. "It's rather grotesque."

"What do you want?"  The way Alyssa asks is off.

"What?" Confusion and annoyance apparent as raven brows pushed together. "Are you serious? I already told you..."

No response came, just silence. Kat huffed softly as eyes rolled, muttering a quiet ‘whatever’ into the mask as she snuck across the rooftops of the abandoned farm hovels. 

Dropping along the back wall she kept herself pressed to the bricks, side stepping to the corner as a knife pulled from the waist. Spinning the blade over in the fingers her grip tightened, peering around the corner to gauge her timing until the lone cultist would draw near. The internal clock ticked away, gloved fingers flexing one by one with each second that passed until the figures shadow approached the desired mark.

Pivoting out on one leg she struck, the blade darting through the air like lightning and plunging into the chest of the cultist, a female orc whose skin turned violet from the corruption. Kat’s free hand grabbed hold the robes, dragging the victim back around the corner and out of sight. 

The slight misjudgment in height caused her blade to miss the heart by a mere inch, giving the orc the opportunity to struggle. The massive hand reaching out and locking onto the Director’s neck, constricting with the brutish strength. The runes on her bracers sparked and flared faintly in the moment, immediately triggering alarm as adrenaline began to flow.

“Buy a girl a drink first.” She spat out from beneath the choking hold, her knife repeatedly stabbing the orc’s chest in several quick bursts. The brute strength began to wane, the other arm spinning over to free her throat from the weakened grasp. Without hesitation she rushed forward in a headbutt to the orc’s nose, the bone breaking in the collision as it collapsed to the ground, life seeping away into the sand.

Rubbing at the leather around the neck Kat took a few larger breaths, the sense of alarm fading away as she stepped over the body. “Sorry, no’ my type.”

Sheathing the bloodied knife at the waist again she quickly inspected the bracers, concerned still by the flare. There had been no outward use of magic from the orc, yet they resisted something. Whatever it was had been unseen and it only incubated the growing fear in her mind. Swallowing the lump in her throat she moved along the building again, settling in between the two to further scope her destination.

Two torment cells, housing captured Ramkahen citizens, were now unattended only a few yards away. Their position along a low stone wall provided her cover to allow Alyssa to work, but patrolling beheaders and worms above were still an obstacle of timing. 

Before she could move the bracers flared again, stronger and brighter this time, enough to cause pain in the soul as if something or someone had snuffed a cigarette against her very core. Panic and fear grew tenfold at the very thought of her bracers failing, allowing not just an outside influence to touch her soul but the enchantments held her in a balance.

‘Iilth ma paf'qi'ag sk'halahs.’

Fingers fumbled as they searched for the azerite crystal around her neck, pulling the chain to free the stone from beneath the leather armor. In a tight grasp she drew power from the crystal, expending over half its charge to fight back against whatever unseen force was attacking her only safeguard of the soul.

The opposing force diminished until it was nothing under the backlash, the flare in the runes of the bracers vanishing. With a relieved breath she fell into the wall, catching herself with one arm as her gaze quickly dropped to inspect the bracers, hairline cracks running from end to end. Her heart skipped a beat as the apparent damage had been done, minor as it was, a chink in the spiritual armor was a fatal risk.

"Kat..." Alyssa suddenly spoke, sounding drained.  "You're right...you're going to get me killed."

"That—” It suddenly clicks in Kat’s head, anger and confusion mixing in an instant, thoughts reeling as she tried to make sense of it. “Was that you? I thought something was attacking my bracers. I didn't know what. I panicked, we'll both be dead if they fail."

"Maybe, I was fighting whatever this thing attached to your soul is. It says we'll betray each other, that it will await in the dark, that it wants us to see the truth...” There were hints on uncertainty. “Kat I don't know how to fight this. It felt like it started to draw my space into the Sleeping City again."

Suddenly it made sense, her gaze cut across the horizon to the Ny’alotha gateway again. "It's just fucking with your head, Alyssa. That's what it does. It was goading you to fight, don't you see? It wanted you to lash out, to break the safeguards I have around my soul."

"Guess it's good I couldn't reach my felfire then." Guilt hung in Alyssa’s words.

"Yeah..." Kat let the single word trail off as she began to isolate her emotions again. Realizing that if her counterpart could no longer separate the illusions from reality then she couldn’t keep her safe, that the way she fought would only open a more detrimental doorway.

"How do you know what's real?"

That inquiry was the confirmation she feared she would receive. Frozen in place by confliction she stared across the empty field at the torment cells, unable or just unwilling to answer the question.

"Already know 'be careful' isn't useful. We're riding the edge Kat. I don't want to die. Do better."

"You do better." Anger began to win the struggle as she retorted. "You realize what would happen if my bracers shattered, here, of all places? Not even you could prevent what would come next."

"I'm doing the best I can with the limited information I have."

"And I'm not?" Kat’s jaw clenched and the teeth ground. 

"Nevermind," an irritated tone from the warlock quickly came in response. "We survived it. It's fine."

"What do you want me to say?" Also irritated now, Kat leaned further against the wall, forced to wait for a group of writhing worms overhead to pass. "I can't always tell what's real either, okay. I need you."

"I don't know Kat! I'm dead, I'm stuck in a damn knife, I don't know where I am, or what’s going on, and the only person I can talk to is one of the least open people I've ever met. I'm frustrated, angry, and confused, and I'm trying to focus on the one thing I can do which is try to keep you alive."

"Yeah, alright, fine. I'm sorry." Responding quickly she was caught off guard by the other’s response. Her jaw shifted from one side to the other as guilt and anger swelled again. No apology would ever be enough for what she had done.

"I need to recharge.” Alyssa finally broke the long silence. “I'm going to just...do that for a bit.  Call me if you need me."

Another sudden realization of her insensitively struck, shifting that swelling anger and guilt into remorse and regret. Drawing Alyssa’s dagger from the sheath at the thigh the blade turned over in her hand, cradled in both palms as she stared down upon the weakened glow of the engravings. Hanging her head for a fleeting moment she didn’t think twice before expending one of her two vials of liquid azerite, pouring the blue and gold fluid over the engravings.

Unsure if it would even work there was a pleased breath as the substance was absorbed and the dagger’s illumination returned to full strength. Kat didn’t expect a ‘thank you’ or any sort of gratification, the fact her aid had not been rejected was enough. Swallowing a bit of her pride she broke the silence.

"Let's just go home. I'll find another way. I know I'm not the most open person, I just...I don't know how to be anymore. I hate this, the fighting. I thought you were gone and it was my fault, and I couldn't handle that. Then you came back and I just— It made me realize how much I needed you and now I'm out here fucking it all up again."

When Alyssa didn’t respond there was a brief feeling of pain across the heart, lips pulling to one side beneath the mask as she sheathed the dagger again. Perhaps that was deserved, after everything she’d done. Glancing upward towards the torment cells again she stared for a moment, shaking her head before turning away to retreat to the desert once more.

It didn’t seem to matter how many times Kat said something, the silence she continued to get in response was near deafening. The lack of conversation made the trek back to the secluded oasis camp seem long, more so by the fact she had to detour as a swarm of cultists and faceless ones had migrated into the path she originally took. 

“I’m sorry.” Alyssa’s sudden return carrying like an echo on the wind. “I didn’t mean to snap like that I just... You keep saying you’re going to help me but then you don’t. I’m starting to doubt you really want to save me, or just use me like everyone else.”

That cut deep, deeper than Kat thought it would to hear. Pressing on through the sands she kept her head down, biting the lower lip as swallowed pride again to allow some honestly.

‘En'othk uulg'shuul.’

“Helping you get away from the fel was always my intention, that much has been true since I said it. Where to start is a mystery I’ve yet to solve. The risk of damaging you, killing you, I just can’t take it. Not again. Most of the rituals I’ve found would consume the dagger in the process, and by extension you.”

“But you still hesitate to collect enough power for a true effort?”

“It’s not that simple, Alyssa.”

“Quit making excuses, Kat. Don’t be a prisoner in your own body. I know you hold yourself back, I can see it. You’re afraid I’ll leave and disapprove but I’m just as dark as you. I still love you.”

She was right. Again. Kat held back out of fear, fear of abandonment and of the darkness taking control. Refusing to admit it she stormed around the corner of the cliff face, coming to a sudden halt as her eyes landed upon the large obsidian construction before her. A massive platform with stairs leading up from either side. Another pair of stairs upon the platform met at a single point before a dark altar, a towering obelisk on either side that stretched upward for nearly half a mile.

Several whispers invaded the mind as she stared upon the twisted writings in the blood red glow of the stones. Disorienting at first but her feet continued to move, step after step she drew closer to the blacken stone. Her heart beat faster, pounding in the ears as the boots climbed the stairs, subconsciously moving as if in a fog. 

Pain seared across the shoulders, the carved scripture in her flesh breaking through the glamour, illuminating through the leather armor in a matching hue to the sigils of obelisks. Her methodical advance coming to a halt before the altar between the obelisks, gaze turned upward as the mask pulled away to collect around the neck.

A sudden weight pulled against her very core, like trees falling in a forest against her back it forced her to the knees. Fog of the mind clearing as the pain from the burning scripture across her shoulders was now her’s to bear in full, dragging a scream of tortured pain through her throat.

[ @alyssa-ward​ ]

(Chapter I: Dark Secrets) (Chapter II: Descent) ( [pt.I] [pt.II] [pt.III] [pt.IV] [pt.V] )

[jazz-miester]

Old God's

Pairing: Cryptic Ravage x Reader (Like. Maybe if you squint. A lot.)

Warnings: None

Song: Sedated - Hozier

An: I got this idea from @rawmeknockout and I just couldn't help myself. I hope that this is ok!It's the first time I wrote for Ravage. Maybe a part two?

They were nothing more than fairytales. Things told to misbehaving children. A warning for them not to go to far. Not to stay out to late at night.

Oh but you were always that child. The one who toed the line just to see how far you could go. You were always the one to come home last. To yell and shout to scare every one else.

The guardian never did come. Never came to put you into your place. And why should it? It never came back to the land it once claimed. And still the people send out sacrifices. Scared women and men never to be seen again.

All to appease some cave drawing a mad man had made long ago.

So when they came you didn't wait for them to drag you from your bed. Already dressed you all but sauntered out your door. A wild grin on your face as they placed roses of the deepest red and purest white within your hair. The oils stuck thickly to the crooks of your neck.

They all called you mad. Most would have been weeping at this point. Wailing that they did not want to go. That they had family. Children.

They were sick. You knew that.

Each and everyone of them.

Sending people off to their deaths within the woods to appease a beast that not one of them has seen.

You left for the open dessert before they had even finished their prayers.

You left behind the only home you have ever known. A safe haven wrapped within a forest. With nothing more than sand and caverns as the walls surrounding the town.

They had given you a single canteen of water and that was quickly spent.

Maybe you shouldn't have been so eager to leave your home.

Shouldn't have been so determined to prove them all false that you had come without a plan.

Sweat poured down your back. Soaking your thin shirt and making it stick to wet skin. The hot desert air burned your lungs with every breath. Sand poured down the sides of dunes as you walked on.

You focused on the horizon. Trying to ignore the burning sun directly overhead.

The further along you got the more rocky it became. Before long you were surrounded by high rock walls. They narrowed your view to nothing more than the sky above. In which the stars were quickly making themselves at home.

The moon so close you felt as if though you could reach out and pluck it from the sky.

Your legs shook with every step you took. The ground swaying even as you stopped walking. You swallowed thickly willing the dryness in your throat away.

You tilted you head skywards. Breathed in deeply once. Twice. Three times before collapsing to the ground.

For the first since you left you began to cry. Why? Well. You weren't entirely sure. It wasn't just for home. No. It's not that it wasn't missed. Of course it was. All of your possessions were there. Childhood toys. Photos of your parents. They had passed away years ago.

It's that you wouldn't be missed. You had no friends. No one to lean on. No one who made your chest light up when you spoke to them.

You left alone and you were going to die alone.

Chest heaving you rolled onto your side. Not caring if your now wilted flowers got crushed as you curled up.

Sleep did not come easy.

.

.

.

When you came to you were shivering violently. It was the dead of night. The time when all of nature's abandoned come to roam the earth.

The sound of stone scraping against stone had you bolting upright. Head swimming as you stood on unsteady feet.

You swayed from side to side as you turned in circles trying to figure out where the sound was coming from.

You couldn't see a thing. It was as if someone had blindfolded you and thrusted you into a dark room. You could vaguely make out your hand inches from your face.

"Hello?" Your voices echoed softly against stone walls.

The scratching stopped.

Your heart began drumming inside your chest. Your ears rang within the silence. The sound of your rushing blood the only thing you could hear.

That's when the snarling began.

You did the only thing you could do.

The one thing your couldn't see to do.

You ran.

With each jarring foot fall you could hear the snarling get louder and louder. You bounced off of the stone wall. Turned to your right shoulder brushed against it and took off into a dead sprint.

Your heart hammered in your chest. Thick tears began to pool behind your lashes. Threatening to spill over and ruin what little sight you did have.

Your swore loudly as you tripped and fell. Landing on your hands harshly screaming out as you felt something snap on both your wrist and ankle.

Your breathing became labored. Chest heaving as you sucked in freezing night air.

This wasn't how you died. It can't be!

Killed by some snarling cat in the dead of night. How stupid where you?

Your tried to sight up holding your hand close to your chest.

The moon softly illuminated where you were at no longer blocked by the towering rocks. Same as where you collapsed but more open this time.

The laughing had you trying to stay up. Trying being the key word.

"Lost little human?" A voice like deep thunder asked.

You whimpered and pushed your back further into the rock wall behind you.

This wasn't real. It can't be. It doesn't exist.

"Oh I am very real. As real as you trespassing into my home." You hadn't realized you had spoken aloud.

Bright yellow eyes flickered in the darkness. Floating high off the ground. Flickering as you assumed whatever it was blinked.

"No. Your not. And I'm just dreaming back from wherever I passed out at." Your rising courage just as quickly died out at It thrusted it's face into yours.

You did what anyone would do.

You screamed.

And it nudged it's face against yours to get you to shut up.

And you did. Watching as it paced in front of you.

It's skin looked like a patchwork quilt. Thick muscles moved just beneath that. Steal wrapped in silk. No wonder it found you so quickly.

The more you looked at it. No. Him. Definitely a him. He looked like a cat. With large canine's brushing over his lower jaw. Fur thick and untamable. It's claws were as long as your fingers and twice as big. Clicking against the stone and black as night as he scraped them on the stone in front of you.He was huge. Standing just a bit taller than you on all fours.

This was the creature that so many was afraid of?

It snarled and snapped at you.

"I asked what you name was human. Don't make me ask again." You swallowed thickly.

"Y/n" He seemed to smile.

"Ravage." Well. At least he was nice enough to tell you his name before killing you. And that what you thought was going to happen when he stuck his nose up against you neck.

You could hear him breathing deeply and you shivered as his tongue swiped against your neck.

"Just as I thought. I should have never let your people see me. If I had known." He watched you for a moment. Watching as you tried to curl in on yourself.

"You're scared." Ravage said it as more of a fact than question. You gave a watery laugh.

"Well if you know where I'm from then you must know the stories." He snorted.

"And you must know that you are the first to have lived this long." He stood tall in front of you before leaning down to look at you. "You are strange. Even since your childhood." He nosed under your chin around your arms and legs. Breathing your scent in deeply.

"You never spoke of me in fear. Even going so far as to shout for me deep within your woods." He grinned. Or what you suppose was one, you thought, as you caught sight of shape teeth.

"Oh I heard. Believe that y/n. I heard your calls. And know I am here and you are there. So. What is it you must know?" He tilted his head as he looked at you.

"How can you talk?" Good question. Not the right time. Ravage began laughing. His body shaking.

"I knew I chose right when I let you live. Yes. Let. You are the first to have asked me that. Most scream. Others faint in fear. And what did I do? He wrapped his mouth softly against your throat.

"I killed them." He snarled. Shaking you brought you leg up and attempted to kick him. Screaming as you realized you had broken your ankle in the fall.

Ravage released your throat from his grasp. Watching in curious wonderment as you tried to leave.

He let you live and this was how you treated him?

At least you had a will to live. Unlike the others. Some cried. Others fought weakly. As if they knew what the end was already going to be. He once had one fall to his knees before him. Begging to be killed.

No.

This was the first time he saw fire in their eyes. Pure rage and a will to live. Your own attempt and snarling was cute. Teeth barely sharp enough to hurt.

Oh he was going to have fun.

The world had quickly gone black for you. Not remembering a thing besides the feeling of sharp teeth grazing your back and your feet leaving the ground.

[gothamincarnate]

[ grab something sharp, find some cover // zombie verse lara lor-van ]

gladsome rays healing center-- raoism in everything but name, trying to take after their child’s urge to help these porcelain doll humans. their human name is vannessa, and they’ve managed to live a quiet life heralding a fledgling “new age” movement.

it’s not quite a secret, but well- they haven’t had time to tell kal that they survived after all this time. they'd sent him here to be on his own. a new parent would just be a burden.

the screaming draws their attention. the little strip mall they’ve set up shop in has become chaos, humans screaming and running. pushing each other, trampling others underfoot.

the ghosts have risen. earth, such strange practices to bury the honored dead. now the bodies are a wave, bottlenecked in the complex.

lara lor-van walks like the royalty they are. kryptonian robes flow behind them in a storm of watery blues and golden suns. but there are monsters ahead, ones that must be put down. a red cape flutters in the middle of the throng. while these humans scurry away aren’t worth attention, their son is somewhere in the fray.

they leap, bounding in the air on the other side of the throng. they land, cracking the concrete between the humans and the damned.

“get inside. go!” maybe kal has a point. alright, fine. they’ll fight. they’ll save as many humans as they can. they see a streak of blue, kal’s own armor flashing in the sun. it looks like he’s falling, failing as a wave of bodies drag him under.

fabric in fists, they tear and discard the blue cloak. black armor shimmers in the sun. the surface looks metallic and shifting. golden spirals swirl beneath like water under glass. it is living crystal, molded in the forge after their final test.

a golden circlet unfolds into a helmet. the dome is ringed in golden tines and spires. the effect is something between hawk’s plumage and sunbeams wreathing their head. a hero’s halo.

they kneel and pull their weapon from a crystal on their thigh. it unfolds into a large golden stave. the tip is a stylized crimson sun. one of the sunbeams is golden, longer than the rest. it’s been sharpened and blessed by their own hands years before their planet died.

the warmth the crystal absorbs is electric. veins sear with warmth-- and they leap again. the stave hardly seems enough against the wall of bodies rushing forward. they shift into a more solid stance, half kneeling on the already bloodsoaked concrete.

a short prayer, a touch of lips to the staff and a call for protection. this fight would be in his honor. for their house, for their guild, for their planet.

arise, champion of rao.

they crash into the bodies swarming, shouldering as many out of the way as possible. defense should be kept up as long as possible. a trick instilled into them from a young age at the forge. offense takes too much energy. weather what you can and then strike when the enemy is exhausted.

harder when the enemy doesn’t stop. doesn’t grow tired, only claws and tears at them. they finally do attack-- superman’s strength, zod’s fighting prowess. lara’s own fury to survive. bones crunch and turn to dust beneath deceptively slender fingers. blood sprays, arcing into the air and catching the sunlight. the blade buries deem into chests, almost always striking true despite the chaos.

one grabs their right leg, arms wrapped around their thigh, trying to gnaw through the crystal. the high pitch scraping noise it makes makes their jaw hurt and echoes even above the screams of the damned. another bites at their left wrist, intelligent enough to try to pry the staff away. biting back the pain, they fly, gripping both bodies and swinging them back down at the earth. a quick scan of the horizon shows no one. not even their child.

another shockwave landing clears out a few more. enough to give them seconds of breathing room. a glance at the office. everyone is inside, secure in rao’s temple.

with a battle cry, they jump back into the fray. the circle closes and cages them in. they attack with ease. fluid-- arms and legs move loosely and slowly. the staff balances and twirls around each limb as needed, no distinction between arms and legs in zod’s forge.

they use the three dimensions to their advantage, attacking from below and the flanks all at once, dipping below the mass’s legs and pushing upward and outward. rao’s staff nimbly rolls from one wrist to the other, red flashing in the sun as they fight.

their son’s hand is buried beneath a mass of bodies and they yank hard, dragging him up into the sky. hanging in the clouded void with them, he winces in pain. a shake of his head, he recovers, smiles at them. gosh, he’s grown up so much, hasn’t he?

“thanks for the help. who are you?”

does he remember the stories they’d sent with him? does he recognize the voice that read fairy tales to him? the knight of vahkd, golden armor blessed by rao to never falter and never fail. the warrior for the people, who learned that while there was glory in the fighting and violence, there must never be glory in needless blood.

did he recognize their armor? the ethos and styling of the martial arts guild was based on rao’s heroes, living sunbeams that could shoot across space in seconds, burning fires that never died.

“i know you.” kal’s face looked-- open, more than the earlier shock. further questions were cut off by the strange skittish silence of a thousand bodies crawling over each other. there wasn’t anymore screaming.

“we’ll talk after, sunbeam.” a smile and a whoop of excitement, they dive back down. stave held ready, they begin to slash through the crowd again, throwing bodies to and fro, lifting corpses up in the air with the stave. again the attacks come from everywhere, no concept of gravity or ground. dancing around the enemy and ripping him apart.

///

lara’s heart was pounding in their chest as the final body fell. kal floated from above, blocking the sun. mother and son were exhausted. lara held themselves up on their staff, chin jutted out, shoulders straight and solid even as their legs wobbled. “you fight like an amazonian.” they smiled and nodded in approval.

“you do too.”

“no i don’t.” they laughed. amazonians would have been well respected on krypton, from what lara had seen of wonder woman. but it was an incredibly different culture. “amazonians use strength and power and full body throws. torq-vahkd is redirection of energy. a flowing movement followed by the killing blow. i would demonstrate but--” a soft laugh as their legs give out. kal rushes forward-- zippy little sunbeam, isn’t he?-- and helps lower them to the ground.

“are you alright?”

“i’m fine. i haven’t fought like that in some years.” they lean back, stretching out in the sun. they sheath the spear and touch the helmet. it folds back up into a circlet. they run hands through their hair, shaking it out with a sigh.

“you’re kryptonian.” it’s said in awe, fingers trace the air above their left shoulder, the red paldron over their heart bears the family crest. he brings the hand back to his chest. the sunbeam darkens, confused and lost. “you’re my family.”

“as you are mine, kal el-vahn.” they nod. “my name is lara lor-van, champion of rao, sworn to the house of el.”

“lara-- wait. mom? i mean, you’re my mother.” he’s elated, then crushed. “how long have you been here? alive? how are you alive?”

“since you were sixteen years old. i fled argos city just before the collector destroyed it. i didn’t mean to end up on earth--”

kal’s hands wrap around their shoulders, squeezing enough that they can feel it through the armor. “you didn’t even want to-- to end up here?”

“this is your planet, kal. your home. you had a family. we gave you everything you needed. i didn’t want to uproot the life you’d already built--”

“i did. i do, i mean.” kal sat down, running his hands through his hair and staring off into space. “i do, they’re great. they didn’t just abandon me to spend years of my life with no idea who i was or why i could do what i did.”

lara’s heart broke for their child. jor, damn him, must have gotten his way. he’d had some plan to turn kal into a symbol, a weapon. it was a defiance to everything rao stood for, and it would doom their son to a life alone and afraid and lost and--

well, how he’d ended up now. “i didn’t realize. i had sent stories with you, to listen to as you grew up. they were supposed to teach you about us. to let you understand where you came from. i cannot change what my husband did. but i am here now, little sunbeam.” they stand, placing a hand on kal’s face. their son leans into it, smiling. “i watched you, when you first put on the cape. i was so proud of you. i still am. you care for them, don’t you? humans?”

kal looks a little stunned. “yes. i do.”

“you showed me how wonderful they are. i’ve seen you save so many lives, and help so many people. rao has given us a gift here, and you’ve used it well. you taught me today, i saved people because... because i saw you doing it. it looked fun. it was. they’re so... squishy and vulnerable.”

kal raised an eyebrow at the word ‘squishy’ but they only shrugged-- it sounded better in kryptonian. kal looked at them and smiled. “vulnerable. yea. we have these gifts that we should use to help others. that’s what, uh, my parents taught me.” and he looked up at that, locking eyes with lara in a strange expression. it’s seeking approval but waiting for a challenge. (what did jor do to you, to make you think of us this way?)

lara simply nods and smiles at their child. their son, grown into a fine hero, a second champion of rao no doubt. “they raised you, of course they’re your parents. as for me, i’ll accept whatever title or role you want me to fill in your life.”

kal nodded, head bobbing a bit distractedly. “you weren’t in the fortress. it was just him. jor-el. he’s the one that told me about krypton, about myself.” he put a hand to his chest. “i tried to tell him no. he-- he seared the house of el into my chest so i wouldn’t forget who i was supposed to serve.”

lara looks, and sees, and god, they’ve never felt nauseous since the finals in the forge. they stand sharply, a hand on their son’s cheek. “krypton is not perfect, there are old and harmful patterns that jor still held onto. i thought my presence on the ship could temper it but--”

“but you weren’t there.”

“no. i wish i had been there to guide you with a steadier hand. i wish i could have told you who you were, to let you grow up with our stories alongside these strange earthling’s fairy tales. yet, i cannot change what has happened, kal. we can only move forward. i will go back to the shadows if you want. i will stay by your side if you want.”

“i--” kal frowned, torn. “i need to figure this out. for now, can we just go... get coffee and talk?”

“of course, sunbeam.” a pause. “is it-- okay to call you sunbeam?”

kal blinked, frowned for a moment before smiling. “yes.”

[alicepink-me]

The New Guardian

Story Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is an adult in the real world, guarding the Miracle Box in Master Fu's place. She's in love with Chat Noir, but refuses to tell him her feelings. New holders appear to fight the duo and shake up their lives. Marinette makes a tough decision about her future as Ladybug.

Chapter 20: Scarlet

Five Days Later:

An ominous blade dragged through the streets, emitting a piercing shriek. A sword taller than a child and sharp enough to slice a mountain. This blade wields unforetold power. Parisians watched from the sidewalks they ran to, cowering in fear at the sight of the fare maiden. Her presence brought extreme terror to everyone she passed.

. . .

"I brought you cookies." Adrien cheered, swiping the tin foil off the plate as he kicked the apartment door shut.

"Did you follow one of my recipes?" Marinette hopped off her couch and walked to the door, looking over the plate.

Adrien tossed his bag in the corner. "Care to guess which one?"

"Hmm. Given your lack of experience, I could easily be poisoned right now." Marinette smiled, stealing a cookie and taking a bit. "But I guess I must trust you." She paused. "It's . . . raspberry pistachio . . . with . . . white chocolate chips."

Adrien grinned, shaking his head. "A spot on guess."

"I did create this recipe. I'd be embarrassed if I couldn't detect the ingredients." Marinette grabbed the plate and carried it to the kitchen.

"Anything new happen while I was gone?" Adrien asked. "I spent the last few days catching up on everything I missed at work."

Marinette finished her cookie. "I found an assistant job for another designer and . . . I'm interested in applying."

"Working for the competition?" Adrien acted offended. "You traitor."

"Depends on the boss I guess. If she's obnoxiously rude and demanding, even though I'm an assistant, I'll simply quit." Marinette took another bite of the cookie. "The job is supposedly less butlery and more of a step down from the boss herself. I still get input on designs and decisions, but I do have to bring her whatever supplies she needs, or coffee."

"That's sounds good for you." Adrien smiled, moving to the kitchen. "But you seem more like a boss."

"It's a start." Marinette covered the cookies "One day I'll conquer the fashion industry myself, but not yet."

Adrien rounded the countertop, moving to Marinette and sliding his hands on her hips. He smiled down at her. "Our futures are looking bright." Marinette lifted on the tips of her toes to meet his lips.

"Ladybug and Chat Noir!" A booming voice was heard.

"You had to say that." Marinette glared at Adrien before running to the window, Adrien following.

In the street below them stood a tall woman completely encased in pristine white armor. Her long hair was a magnificent scarlet shade. It was beautiful with a white ribbon for a headband and reached her knees, contrasting her armor perfectly. Her eyes were golden brown and her skin was fare. The most striking of her appearance was the demonic sword she carried, over half her size. The metal had shimmers of silver blue and several ridge patterns. From the carnage in the road behind her, it was obvious that she dragged it the whole way here and it was no ordinary blade.

"What is that woman?" Marinette muttered.

"Ladybug, show yourself! You and your fellow partner!" She shouted, her head darting up to meet Marinette's eyes. "I know you live here!"

Marinette ducked, hiding from her gaze. Adrien and her crawled away, whispering to their kwamis.

"Plagg, Claws Out!"

"Tikki, Spots On!"

Ladybug tiptoed to the door. "How did she know where my apartment is?" She whispered. "No one, not even my parents, know where I live."

"Maybe she followed us."

"We got back six days ago. That's a long time to hide outside my window, let alone hide that massive blade she carries." Ladybug sighed. "Now we have to fight again."

"Your new school really doesn't quit." Chat remarked.

Ladybug slowly turned the knob on the door, quietly opening it. She poked her head out in the hallway, seeing a person and jolting back inside. Ladybug waited ten seconds before checking again and motioning for Chat Noir to follow. The two snuck through the halls and entered the stairwell, quickly running out of the apartment complex. They rounded the corner, coming face to face with the scarlet monster.

"Finally." The villain grinned devilishly. "You've come to meet me."

Ladybug straightened. "Do you know who I am?"

"Marinette Dupain Cheng, age twenty-one, Ladybug miraculous holder, and traitor to the guardian's temple." She answered blankly. "I know you quite well."

"A-And you are aware of my status at the temple?" Ladybug shook off the odd behavior and crossed her arms, showing a stern frown. "You wouldn't want to upset our elders."

A random clear goo appeared around Ladybug and Chat Noir's feet. They grasped each other's arm as they began to slip. The substance was a peculiar jelly with a chill.

"Don't you dare start." A girl appeared behind them, resting her elbow on Chat Noir's shoulder. "We know exactly what you've done."

Chat Noir tried to step forward but the gel began to burn, stopping him. "Now don't be a liar as well, Fern." Another girl appeared next to Ladybug. "Truthfully, we don't know how you've gained control of our people, let alone change the entire future for our temple, but it must be reversed."

"Look . . . I don't know who you are, but we haven't done anything wrong." Chat began. "And intruding our city like this is rude. Whether you were there or not for the whole ordeal, we won't change what we did. The elders will continue to view us only as heroes."

"And why is that?" The scarlet one asked. "We were on a mission and returned to see our superiors completely manipulated. Because of my rank at the academy, after teaching me of your past, they informed me of their plans for you." She looked to her blade. "It was quite a shock to see they failed to a mere amateur."

"We don't wish to fight you." Ladybug held her hands up. "We can works things out without a battle."

"I'm afraid not." The other girl said, flashing in front of Chat Noir, looking between them. "We don't play that way."

"Lemon, where are our manners?" The red one said, looking down with a smile. "We should introduce ourselves before we kill them."

"What a pity." Fern grabbed Ladybug's chin. "You were kind of cute."

"Fern!" Lemon shouted.

The two girls moved to stand beside their red haired leader.

"I am Ivory." The scarlet girl said. "The gardenia miraculous holder."

"I'm Lemon. I have the sunflower miraculous." Lemon wore a bright yellow suit that looked like half of a dress. The ends appeared like long, pointed flower petals. She had yellow, thigh high, laced sandals. Her dark skin and eyes beautifully contrasted her suit. Her hair was dark curls with gold streaks.

"I'm Fern." The last girl said, grinning. She wore a plain leaf like, green suit. The color faded to turquoise on her arms. She bore thin bendable spikes along the backs of her arms and legs. Her hair was shoulder length silver white and her eyes were blue, but almost white.

Neither of them wore a mask. Ivory held her sword in front of her, leaning back. Her white ring seemed familiar. It was a white gem encased in a black ring.

"Chat Noir, look at their rings." Ladybug whispered, eyeing the other two, similar in style with silver metal.

"They're from the Gardenia box." Adrien observed.

"Which means . . . they're just as powerful as everyone we faced before . . . if not greater."

Chat Noir lifted his foot. "Mind telling us what this goo is?" He asked.

"That's my doing." Fern smiled. "I have the power of aloe vera." She held her hands out, making it increase. "My abilities give me healing advantages and support powers, yet they can also grant me an attack." She created a ball of gel in her palms and launched it at Chat, him dodging it. "I can shape it however I choose like a waterbender."

"It reality, we could easily kill you at this moment." Lemon smiled. "With my sunflower miraculous and the sun itself at my disposal, I could very simply boil the aloe vera you're in while Fern multiplies it. You'd both be melted into a strange moisturizer."

"Then why don't you?" Ladybug asked.

"It's too boring." Fern answered. "We didn't travel all this way to take you down so quickly. I want to squeeze every bit of information from you first."

"And you, Ivory." Ladybug turned her head. "What's your power?"

"Now I don't want to spoil all the fun." She grinned. "You'll soon find out when you lose." Ivory dashed forward, crashing her blade down where Ladybug was standing before the two heroes leaped away.

Chat noir reached for his baton, but Lemon targeted him, boiling the gel remnants still on his boots. Chat winced at the burning and fell to the ground. Ladybug landed near him in a panic. As beads of sweat formed at her hairline, she called her lucky charm. Ivory smirked as she rushed over, slicing the yo-yo string instantly. Just in time, a spotted towel fell in Ladybug's hands.

Ladybug blinked. "How did you-"

"My blade can cut through anything." Ivory rested it beside her, smiling victoriously. "So much for your lucky charm. I'm assuming that towel is for the aloe, but you only received one. Will you selfishly use it yourself or will you hand it to your partner? But that's if you do not touch anymore gel to the point where you can't easily wipe it off." Ladybug growled. Chat Noir jumped in front of her. "Aw, are you fighting for her? That's sweet."

Ivory gripped the end of her blade as it began to glow. Soon the righteous blade was a red metal, baton like, staff.

Chat's eyebrows furrowed. "She can change her weapons, Ladybug." Ivory jumped forward, her baton smacked Chat Noir's.

"Well aren't you observant." Ivory fought against his strength.

Fern held her hands out in concentration, moving the goo from his shoes, up his body in small amounts. Chat's eyes widened to see the gel building up at his wrists. They reached to each other, drawing his wrists closer until he dropped his baton and his wrists linked in the gel. Lemon boiled the aloe, bringing Chat Noir to his knees. Ladybug quickly used the towel to wipe the aloe vera from her own feet.

"Since I've already destroyed Ladybug's chance at using her power . . . I might as well reap you of yours already." Ivory's weapon glowed again, forming into a large bow with only one arrow in stock. "You've lost this one for now." She drew her bow back.

"No!" Ladybug rushed forward. Lemon directed a beam of sunlight towards Ladybug. "Ah!" She shielding her eyes, falling to the ground. "I can't see." She mumbled, her eyes watering.

Ivory shot the arrow, sending it in Chat Noir's chest. It disintegrated in dark glitter, stinking to his suit and being absorbed inside of him. His ring began to blink as if he had used his power, slowly counting down. Ivory's white ring began to beep as well.

Ladybug was brought to her knees as well. She stared at the ground, defeated. Fern instantly gathered more aloe vera to form a similar pair of hand cuffs around her wrists. She didn't flinch. Chat Noir sighed.

"Today is a joyous occasion." Ivory changed back to her monstrous blade. "To face their crimes . . . this will be the end of Ladybug and Chat Noir!"

[alloveroliver]

Evil!Harr Part 1

harr anon: part 1 of some very evil!harr! its quite a doozy, so i had to split it, but harr/alice will come in the 2nd part (and guess who thoroughly enjoys the cradle gothic vibes…:D)

tw: Gore

The yawning nights never made the Magic Tower any more inviting. Loki climbs the steps with the same apprehension as always; after all, it was very hard to shake away the memories of the atrocities that had very nearly been inflicted upon him. If he listens carefully enough, he can almost hear the moans and cries of those who had been confined here, bodies prepared to undergo the gauntlets Amon Jabberwock would orchestrate.

And yet, he fears the cries he hears now may just be history repeating itself.

The marble staircase coils upward towards the private chambers of the new master, perched over an ornate writing desk like a haggard crow. Only this time, the robes have been changed from violet to black, fine silk for ragged six-string…gold eyes for red ones.

“Harr? When did you come back?”

Since the death of Amon, Harr had been swift to overthrow the Magic Tower and its brainwashed occupants. They had cowered under his superior magical abilities, the crystals holding now sway over the deflective spells and ancient incantations that forced them to their knees, burnt their hands and filled their veins with pestilence. Casting the robes of the Tower aside, Harr stood proud and furious above all, as if punch-drunk on the power he had suddenly acquired. The few that had been deemed worthy to live treated him like a god in the flesh, immediately obeyed his every whim, and allowed him to carry on with his games. For his magic was innate, beautifully so, and he was worth dying for.

Even if Loki had hated how the color of his eyes had changed.

“Loki? Ah, I’ve only been back a short time,” At the sound of his name, the elder sorcerer looks up from what appears to be numerous torn papers, detailing correspondence between members of the Red Army. Loki tries his hardest to overlook the splatters of blood and viscera on each page. He focuses on the smile he was so used to seeing, soft and reassuring, and hopes back for the days before all of this madness. “But I’m glad you’re here. I have something to show you.”

Papers flying, Loki crouches down on the other side of desk as Harr seems to reach down behind it, fiddling on with the straps on a battered leather sack. His hums a soft melody as he works, and the younger kindles faint memories in the back of his mind, when the same tune was hummed over a kitchen sink, a solo tune that soon drifted into a duet when he would come to help with dinner.

I’ve been reminiscing a lot, he thinks…and it’s with a twinge of sadness as he realizes the sorry state of affairs that have forced him to do so, if only for his own mental well-being.

But soon enough, Harr’s voice cuts into his reverie. “I’ve been thinking long and hard how to finally get through to the King of Hearts,” he hums, though there’s a distinct edge to his tone as the buckles come loose on the sack. “And I think I may have finally done it. My greatest achievement.”

The King of Hearts? “But Lancelot has always…refused your offers before.”

“Then perhaps my latest attempt has caused a…change of heart, if you will.”

No…

Harr reveals a glass tankard from the confines of his bag, sloshing around with a glossy red liquid that instantly forces the hairs on Loki’s neck to prickle. He can smell it before he sees it - spilled blood - and the sight is unfortunately not unique. He wants to vomit every time, but his throat is dry and tight, and he wants to run…but Harr is there, grinning, and Loki can only remain dumbfounded.

An adult human heart, beating wildly within a glass cage.

Loki’s slit pupils flare for a second. He looks ready to protest, jaw clenching and unclenching…but nothing leaves his lips. Perhaps he realizes what an objection means by now, and instead occupies himself by watching the disembodied organ throb in the jar. It mesmerizes him in a sickening way, how it squeezes and oozes in the red liquid, pulsing with gentle magical light.

The heart ripped from the Queen of Spades’ chest didn’t glow like this. Or the others. None of their hearts glowed at all.

Would my heart glow this way?, he thinks, only to quickly push that line of thought to the depths of his subconscious. His fingers tremble over the breastbone under his skin, where even now, he wonders if there is anything left at all.

Invisible hands pulling at the frantic muscle, ready to tear it clean from its shell…despite the heat of the room around them, Loki shivers in poorly-masked terror.

“Beautiful, no?” Harr resumes his gentle harmony, fingers curling over the remaining vessels upon the tables. “I knew Lance wouldn’t disappoint.”

Ten jars for ten men, each housing a beating heart. And Loki remembers them all too clearly. How each one faltered at the most crucial moment, letting Harr’s wicked fingers slide over their chests and drag the bleeding muscle from under the flesh, only to shove a jagged crystal into the cavity instead. They were living puppets, meat caskets for the Joker to toy with as he saw fit.

The Queen of Spades had been first, so eager to help his former friend that he hadn’t even seen it coming. But the horror on his face as Harr had stood over him, heart dripping his own blood onto the carpet, had been unforgettable. And with a single snap, the first puppet was made, jumping to his feet with vacant eyes and a luring call to draw the King into a secluded spot. Unversed in the intricacies of magic, the Black Army was swift to fall asunder.

Lancelot proved to be more difficult. He had visited Kyle that morning. Kyle had never thrown up blood before…Kyle’s eyes…had never looked so milky.

Knowing Amon’s ways, he had been privy to the darker side of magic, so when Zero had attempted to beckon him toward the training room alone, eyes vacant like those of a doll, he had already suspected foul play. But by then, he was exhausted from the years of futile conflict with the Black Army, as well as the weight of potentially retreading the footsteps of the very man who had held his father’s soul overhead. Falling to his knees with a soft smile upon his face, he had willingly surrendered his flesh to the Joker and his sickening cause.

And so, life would go on….or at least, it would seem to. Now at the helms of each side of Cradle, Harr had only to simply will his word into law. Who would go against him? Who was even left?

Loki cast a forlorn glance up the staircase towards the private quarters of his master…and the strange girl he kept caged up there.

“What do you plan to do with it, Harr?”

When the wizard turns back to his apprentice, his voice softens. “It doesn’t quite fit…does it?” he sighs. He runs his fingertips over Lancelot’s vessel, nails tapping an ancient rhythm over the glass. “Only further proof how we are not the same as the normal populace.”

Loki flinches at the use of ’we’. The dichotomy he had once fought against, being championed by his mentor, makes his gut twist uncomfortably. “Then what are you going to do?”

“There is always room for further study into the archaic world of magic,” comes the response, though there was a dangerous glint in Harr’s scarlet gaze. His mouth twists ever so slightly, the edge of a smile gracing his lips, though never enough to reach his eyes. “And I would find it most useful to expand my knowledge. The Tower may have gone far in their research…but there is always more.”

The younger wriggles a bit where he stands, pulling the hem of his jacket. “I don’t know if you should go any further, Harr. You know what…what the Tower did, do you really want to know that much?”

“You make a fair point, but this heart has such boundless energy…and I could always…consume the excess myself.”

The fear sinks deeper into Loki’s bones, his entire form only kept from shaking by every muscle locking stiff. He looks for any sign that the elder is joking, but his face is remarkably serious. “Harr…y-you can’t be serious-”

“But I very much am, Loki,” comes the cold reply, and the younger flinches at how his master’s lip curls into a sneer. Were his teeth always so sharp? “There is no need for Lancelot to entertain the masses with his magic, not when I have my rule implemented in Cradle. It would be a waste to let it simply sit here as a trophy.” And with unfamiliar malice, he suddenly grimaces. Loki’s blood freezes in his veins, and he can barely breathe “Besides, Loki Genetta, you have no right to pass judgment on me for eating the hearts of men.”

The glare was piercing. Cutting right through his soul, Loki’s legs give out beneath him. Blood-soaked memories flicker behind closed eyelids, servants in violet cloaks and a frightened madman cowering underneath his claws. It was frightening to imagine, that loss of control, the sheer desire to maim and consume…like some kind of beast. But the thrill of the hunt had pounded wild through his veins, deliciously stringing him along toward the lifeblood that he could scent in the air…feral, hot, hungry…

“You remember it, don’t you?” Harr senses the confusion in the younger’s body, how his eyes flit to the floor and his lips quivers. Moving ever closer, he wreathes himself around Loki, stroking his hair and crooning ever so sweetly into his ear. “Tell me how powerful you felt, Loki. Did it feel good to rip that man to shreds?” The contrast between face and voice was jarring, but Harr’s soothing tone still pulls tenderly upon the boy’s heartstrings. Somewhere, he hopes that his old friend is still there. “Tell me how good it felt when you cleaved that devil open. How good it felt to consume his essence.”

It was sickening to say…but Loki couldn’t deny it. The hedonistic rush of magical power as he had ripped through Amon Jabberwock with fang and claw, wild as a hellcat and with an appetite to match. Yanked by puppet strings and with Harr holding the sticks, he had lunged and clawed and bit and killed. It was sweet vengeance; surely, Harr had even told him so. Harr had promised he hadn’t been wrong, he had promised…

You were the one who told me to do it.

“It felt…amazing.”

“Then you know it’s only fair that I should also enjoy such pleasure. I gave you the opportunity, after all, and absolved your sins upon the deed’s completion.”

“So I was wrong to do it?”

“Oh, Loki…taking life is wrong, but it had to be done. Come to me.

The embrace is warm, familiar, and Loki cannot contain himself any longer. He sobs into Harr’s warm arms, clinging to the cloak that now reeks of earth and freshly-spilled blood. He lets himself be soothed, coddled, lied to under the pretense of sweet whispers of comfort. He knows there is something horribly wrong with the man he had once come to know as his carer, a friend in the darkest of times, but he is powerless to stop it. Because Harr was all he had left in this world, even though the corruption that had filled his soul was nothing like the kind, gentle human being who had swept him off the ground as a child and into a loving home.

Fingers come to rub gentle circles into the individual bumps along the younger’s spine, where the same corruption begins to take hold. Loki notices it every day, his body contorting into something more animal, more beastly by the day. First had been the teeth…then the claws…then the twisting of his spine, some days leaving him yowling like a creature on all fours. A punishment by the gods, perhaps? Or a sickness of the soul, brought by Harr as he takes the worst of the sins wrought by their terror?

All he knows is that he will follow Harr until the end, even when his body contorts and his voice leaves him, until he is nothing but a monster with a feline grin.

"Your place is here with me. Cradle is still cruel to the likes of you and me, for they don’t understand the gifts we come to bear,” A pregnant pause fills the air, only punctuated by the irregular thumps of distended hearts. Unbeknownst to the young man, Harr’s grin twists into something more sinister. “Your parents were not the only ones. And I only do my work so that no more children come to suffer as you did. I keep you and rid you of your sins, and you help me to achieve the paradise we deserve.”

When Loki looks up at him once more, tears track messy lines down his cheeks. His eyes are so lost, so full of fear and hope, clinging to whatever scrap of stability he can. Harr has Loki pinned under his claws, eager to please and fearing every detachment, lest he disappear…just like his parents had.

Twisted pleasure runs hot through Harr’s veins.

“You know how much I love you,” Harr only reaches forward to stroke his apprentice’s wild hair. He watches those mismatched eyes harden to flint, only to melt once more as his fingernails scratch into the young man’s scalp. The lies taste sweet on his tongue, almost as sweet as the look of adoration upon his charge’s face. “I don’t want the pain you felt to ever come back. I want to protect you. You know that, right?”

A soft sigh breaches those plump lips, and a barbed tongue rasps his palm in a gesture of submission.

“Do not disappoint me, Loki.”

“Not you. Never you, Harr.”