#i did die in battle once when i made a grave error

[hecksupremechips]

Btw I’ve started playing the funny stars and time game. The the one about the loopty loop and the white diamond ass shit

[llostwriter]

The Husky And The White Cat Shizun With Their Baobei

Chapter 6

"Why...Shixiong…How could you possibly be attracted to such a callous and ruthless bastard? Constantly taking his side over mine! Did you not even give a damn about the lacerations he gave me with his whip? Please, Shixiong Y/N, respond to me."

That was from Mo Ran's remarks, which you could still recall from your second prior existence. His tone was a mixture of desperation, betrayal, contempt, and perplexity. However, you ultimately chose not to respond to him. You have no idea how to react to it. Mo Ran was both correct and incorrect at the same moment. You didn't think about it since thinking about all those things made your brain hurt. The disappointment on his face will haunt you for the rest of your life.

——

You ran into Shi Mei and Xue Meng when they were younger. They may be a year older than you physically, but you are older mentally than they are. This implies that you still must address them as "Shixiong." Even though Shi Mei seemed gentle and kind, you were wary of him since only you and he knew that all of it was a facade. You would not permit yourself to repeat the errors of the past. You and Shi Mei were very close in your previous existence since you believed that that was a second lifetime.

You recalled from your first life memories that Shi Mei in HIS second lifetime was a good person who had connected with Hua Binan, who in HIS first life was also Shi Mei. In HIS second incarnation, Shi Mei ultimately contributed to Chu Wanning's escape from Hua Binan's control. You ultimately let your defenses down because of this. That was a grave error. Even though you made an effort to hide it from Shi Mei, it seems that he eventually discovered it.

"Shidi, did I did something wrong?" You would have been duped if it weren't for the knowledge of his actual nature, since it seemed rather innocent. "Shixiong, nothing. All I need is a little time to adjust to the new environment." This cannot be lost. At least not once more...

It was the same with you and Xue Meng. It was the same, at least to you. Affectionate. There's no need for you to exercise caution around him. You and Xue Meng were compelled to work together in your previous existence to overthrow Taxian-Jun's brutal regime. Xue Meng never stops watching over you and preparing you for any eventual death battle; in fact, Xue Meng even tried to persuade you that you aren't capable of fighting Taxian-Jun at all. Even though you are certain that he simply has your best interests in mind and didn't mean any harm, you ultimately chose not to tell him about your attempts to save Chu Wanning. You decide to keep that information to yourself because you did not want him to die. It was way too early for him to die.

———

As your shidi, Mo Ran has been lavishing you with care ever since his arrival. similar to your previous double existence. You pondered whether you could be more kind to Mo Ran than normal in order to lessen the Flower of Everlasting Hatred's impending impacts. Perhaps Mo Ran wouldn't have chosen the path of the merciless and icy Taxian-Jun if you had been kinder to him. Or maybe he would have gone that way anyhow, but he might be grateful for your earlier generosity and give you a favor. "Look at this f/c flower that I gathered, Shixiong Y/N. Are you fond of it?

[livingalifeofasimp]

Incurable Love

《♚ SLIGHT YANDERE / POSSESSIVE Zhongli X Reader ♚》

➳ Dynasty Au

➳ Warning : This content contains Yandere themes if you are sensitive please refrain yourself from reading it. This is purely for entertainment purpose, arts and pictures are not mine credits to respective owners, only the content is mine.

❖ You leap through the time to some dynasty and found yourself in the dark forest sunlight scatting through the leaves, on waking up you saw yourself surrounded by some men, the look on their faces made you feel some kind of outsider. They were dressed in traditional wear layers of clothes warped around them secured with leather belts, long hairs, head decorated with pretty accessories.

❖A man came forward glaring, your clothing style made them even more suspicious of you " What is your name? Who sent you here?", Starling you with his strict voice pointing a beautifully crafted weapon yet deadly in your direction that you assumed was sword. "Is this some kind of sick joke, some social experiment Hahah I ain't falling for this", you shouted looking around you for hidden cameras where are they? Other than that, it's illegal to bring people without their consent.  

❖"Stop fooling around answer or die" something in his voice told you this all wasn't a joke as he put his sword near your neck. You cut your skin slightly in the attempts to push the sword away realizing it's not a play. "Do you wanna die so much?, General she doesn't look like an assassin", a young looking guy came forward, "Suspicious, everything about her is suspicious, her words, her clothes, her etiquettes, which country are you from?", Everything felt wrong you took a step back ready to run for your life while they argued with each other.

❖Your heartbeat accelerated as you ran faster than anything to save your ownself, curiously you turned your head and saw an arrow shooted towards you, subconsciously a scream left your mouth before you were pinned by the sharped arrow on the woods. "How bold are you?", General guy mocked you already on his way to grab your neck.

❖"Stop what's is this chaos for?", A deep commanding voice stopped him, he kneel down and bowed followed by all the other guys. "A sceptical girl has appeared, your majesty", he reported to the tall man dressed in all the luxury who made eye contact with yours, you adverted your eyes not wanting to offend these dangerous men after glaring at him. "Is this?", The man bend down and grabbed your chin to get a full view of your face, to find out from where you are.

"I believe people don't want to die unreasonable deaths I will ask you once where are you from?",

 "I am from South",

❖You lied through your teeth making an innocent face these sharp men, hopping to not get caughted by them, his face held a cold expression clearly not showing whatever is going in his mind. "South? From felecoia island?, You hurriedly nodded your head after all you wanted was to get away from them and find your way back. "Why are you here?", "Work I need money to eat", you babbled out anything that could at least save you from his threatening presence. He was surprised, your clothing did amused him, even tho your speaking lacked manners according to the era.

——————————————————————

❖You were forced on Emperor Zhongli's laps reminiscing, if you would have not said the things that you said would you be somewhere else in life, why did it ended up like this?. "What are you thinking about? Today is my birthday, you should be enjoying", he said playing with your silky hair,  you looked at the other side of the hall court officials drinking wine, enjoying, young girls dancing who were selected by the empress dowager so that Emperor Zhongli could choose one of them to be his wife or concubines on his birthday as gift, girls of powerful and influence families, beautiful and perfect in literature were dressed in a seductive way to win Emperor's heart but here he is looking at you with his heart eyes demanding your affection.

❖His face buried in your shoulders leaving kisses and smelling your intoxicating smell that always manages to calm him down, as you try pushing his body away with your hands that he took in his slowly intertwing, pulling your form closer, his left hands encircled your waist as he deepens the kiss running with passion as if he wants you to feel all his love towards you, his overwhelming love and desire that he can't hold back. Noble women looks at you with envy warning you to not get closer to the guy that they love.

❖Zhongli holds your hand to make you walk along side with him which was not done by any other Emperor before. Zhongli knows its wrong but he wants you to love him, piecing pain passes through his heart whenever you say you won't love him, leaving him at the verse of crying. Sometimes his love, loneliness, caring and gentle personality towards you melts your heart but his tendency to get jealous easily in small things makes you think otherwise seeing you pet an animal, he pushes it way and put his head in your lap asking you to caress his hair instead, trying to keep you closer to him all time and hugs you without your consent, making you think maybe it's a good choice to stay with him since you are not able to find your way back home.

❖Whenever you mention your timeline he holds you tight in his embrace afraid to let go so that you won't disappear. Zhongli do not show you his darker side, killing officials or their daughters and maids who plot against you on the spot, cutting their wives, husbands, concubines, sons and daughters' tongue but he isn't afraid to show you his clingingness, holding you down in his bed with him and making you his hugging pillow, trying to win your affection by showing you his pityfull and pathetic, lonely self. Surprising you that the most powerful Emperor who won each battles and states kneel infront of you begs and threatens you to love him.

❖You remember the time when you said, you liked cherry blossoms in one of your friendly lunches with Emperor, the next day you saw your backyard filled with exotic beautiful cherry blossoms trees making your jaw drop, unbelievable how did he managed to do such thing. 

❖"My lady do you like it?, it's specially designed for you, each patterns are threaded perfectly, Royal tailors had spent sleepless nights to make this masterpiece asked by the Emperor", a representative tailor girl said as she carefully put the luxurious red robe around you looking for some mistaken errors trying not to displease the ruthless Emperor. Suddenly guards announced his arrival which caused head maids to retreat back, bow down and leave the chamber immediately as Zhongli springed towards you, trapping you in a hug.

❖"You look so beautiful my Empress, this should be enough", you tried to moved away from him "Empress who?, I am not any Empress", Zhongli poked your cheeks "Quit joking my love", he walked around you and stopped behind you causing you to be nervous who knows what he is planning?, Zhongli caressed your back or rather the pattern design, thread made of gold, it's Dragon's symbol which symbolizes protection, power, luck and wisdom most importantly possession of Emperor, with this on, no one will dare to come closer to you or lay their eyes on you and disrespecting you would be equal to violating Emperor's order, the punishment served will be execution, it's a simple warning to everyone.

❖Zhongli's touch caused you to jump and due to reflex you turned around to look at him, just what is this man thinking?. Zhongli grabbed your right wrist and pulled you to him making you clash against his hard toned chest, he affectionately caressed your left cheeks too drunk in your view to realize your struggles and kissed your right cheek lovingly before whispering in your ears with his deep husky voice a templating offer, "Be mine, let me love you and I will give everything you want, you are the only one I need, I am not asking much, my Goddess please be kind to me, grant me the chance to get your love, your precious than any treasure I own", before enveloping you in a desperate hug.

❖When he hugs you so affectionately but securely telling you how much he loves you that he can kill anyone, forcing you to promise that you will never leave his side whenever he finds out about your escape attempts from the shadow guards, dangerous then any other trained soldier who were assigned to guard you more like to prevent you from escaping, no wonder you always get caughted some or the other way each time you try.

❖You where gazing at all the other princes ( Emperor's brothers) gathered in imperial garden who knew they looked so handsome when Zhongli turned your face towards him by holding your chin with his index fingers " Your Highness.....what?", his angry face scared you after all he can execute anyone he wants "Go inside and wait for me", stealing a delicious view away from you "But", "Show her way inside", he commanded your maids who draged you inside.

"You should be my concubine"

"No way I will never share my husband with anyone I want to be his only wife and him to be my only husband".

❖You smiled to yourself satisfyingly he got no chance other than to leave you but instead of seeing a disappointed Zhongli you saw a blushing Zhongli, his Chief assistant was shocked who immediately turned his head in some other direction to not get his eyes plug out by the tyrant.

❖"How can I be so stupid, you shall be my only wife and be mine forever I shall be yours forever my dear wife", Zhongli said taking your left hand in his long pretty muscular hands and kissed your ring finger as your smile disappeared realizing that you digged your own grave.

[seancekitsch]

Intended: Chapter 1

Warnings: uhhhhh slight witcher spoilers??? yearning bullshit, kidnapping, implied canon things that happen when an army sacks a city, none of my usual smutty bullshit?

“Do you think we would be like this?” Cahir mumbles, his lips pressed against your shoulder as you watch the smoke from the fire drift into a starless sky. He embraces you around the waist, as close as he can have you. As much as you are the object of all of his affections, he knows that you are something from a dream and nothing he ever thought he could have. As a child, he dreamed of being a great knight, a relic from the stories he’d read, chivalrous and true of heart, winning the favor of a lovely woman and leading his men into noble battles for causes that are just. Earning honor on his name.

“Mmm, what do you mean by that?” you hum, snuggling closer into his embrace on the bedroll, loving how he feels warmer than the fire you'd made, warmer than even the hearth in your chambers in Cintra, the home you'd been rescued from during its burning. You'd been on the run when Cahir in his mighty helmet had found you in your attempt at escape and brought you out of the chaos. He had saved you, and now treated you with the most chivalry as you traveled, on foot because his horse had been lost, to an out skirting kingdom you could start over in. You spent the week learning each other, your fears, your innermost desires, dreams you'd never shared with anyone. Felt more yourself than you ever did in Cintra. While your family fretted that you'd never make a wife, to imagine their faces now as you'd found someone you would easily marry. Your family. If only they were still here.

“Do you think we would be like this,” he says, his lips brushing against you again, “had I not captured you?”

Cahir lifts his head as soon as the words leave his mouth, seemingly recognizing his error immediately.

You rip yourself from his embrace, jumping to your feet as he quickly follows, scrambling to a stand in confusion as you fume. You find a pace, your gait that of any warlord he’s seen, wild and quick. You mutter under your breath, not quite believing what you heard but repeating it to yourself over and over until you whirl around on your heel. You round back to him with anger in your tone as you shout your summation.

“Captured? Pardon me did you say captured? As in, not rescued like you've had me believe for the past week?” Your voice was shrill, and of course you had caught his slip up. Your hands shake as you speak, refusing to look up at his fucking face. The face of a liar. Of course you had. You are sharp as a whip and he had learned this week it was best not to lie to you, unfortunately the entire nature of the events that had brought you together were a lie crafted by Cahir on the fly. Cahir that had guided you out of the piles of bodies, the debris and the destruction. Cahir who told you he was safe, not like the other Nilfgaardians burning your city. Cahir who had given you the contents of his canteen and had stolen a bedroll to sleep on so he would be the only one to sleep on the ground. Cahir that had listened to you as you told him of all of your secrets, things only revealed to a diary that was now probably nothing more than ash. Cahir who taught you how to use the dagger you shared, the man who praised you and was excited at the progress you made in a short week. Cahir that promised you a sword once you mastered the dagger. Cahir that you had stolen a kiss from, and then continued to kiss and kiss and kiss while you traveled further east, hoping to come upon a new home in an allied kingdom. Cahir that had apparently lied to you the whole time. Stolen the kisses you thought you had stolen, reveled in affection that would not have been given to a captor.

“Did you capture me, Cahir? That was my home you stole me from!”

He hesitates, then mumbles. Refusing to meet you in gaze and in words. He bows his head, like a man praying for forgiveness for a grave sin. Like a man at the altar at his most desperate hour. You now realize that sin is yourself, you are stolen and every moment he spent with you was coveting of something he could not possess himself. He took what wasn't his and dared to spit into the wind and the wind blew your intuition back to the forefront to see him for what he truly is.

“Speak, knight! I know you aren't mute you've done a fair share of moving that tongue since I’ve met you.” your eyes burn holes into his skin, and when he looks up into them it's like looking into hell itself, but he would rather blind himself than look away. Before you is not the man you’d tasted in kisses and between baring your soul talking until dawn the entire week you'd been in the woods. Before you is a villain, a wretch who did not give you the dignity of dying in your home, the dignity of fighting to the death with whatever you'd find once you were eventually cornered. Truthfully, to die in battle seemed like a nice way to die, to die with bloodied hands and passion alight beneath your skin.

“I did, I stole you away,” his voice is ragged, panicked, you've never heard it like this, “but you were not who I meant to take.”

“So you meant to kidnap someone? And should that comfort me? Bring me joy that I was not the intended target?” You’re right. That isn't comforting at all. Instead of completing his quest he steals the first woman he sees near the castle who’s not clearly a terrified peasant. What a mess he’s made of his knighthood. He refuses to meet your eyes as he nods, still downcast eyes into the fire beside you.

“I should not have. I just did not want to let you die.”

Cahir pursued the billow of skirts that trailed behind the form in the alley. Could this be the Princess Cirilla? Had he truly gotten this lucky to find her so easily? He chases on foot, abandoning his horse at the mouth of the alley he’d spotted her ducking into.  As the form turns a corner, so does he, hot on the trails of his perceived target. But the woman he pursues surprises him. She turns on her heel, and armed with a letter opener decorated with jewels, she lunges at him, swinging wildly as a feral tears from her throat. As he  dodges her efforts, he realizes this is not Cirilla. This is a woman; a noblewoman, one with fire and courage at that. She’s beautiful. He admires her immediately, even though she has a lot to learn about handling a blade.

“Watch it with that, you will stab me if you aren't careful,” he jests, removing his helmet as he moves from her swinging range.

“And who says” she lunges again, “I don't want to stab you?”

She wont go down without a fight, but is a fight something she could handle? No. certainly not against his men. She doesn't stand a chance. She won't make it out of here, he realizes. With what his men do to women. No. She does not deserve that fate. He could bring her in Cirilla’s place, he thinks. Whatever Nilfgaard needs her for, they need her alive and healthy. They would take care of her, even if her identity was false.

“You will not want to stab me if you want to make it out of here alive, I’m your only chance,” Cahir blurts out, before he can think about the weight of his words. Looking back here he realizes that he threw away any chance in finding the real Cirilla, any chance at not being tortured and executed if his deceit would be found for a woman whose name he did not know at the time. A woman who was swinging a blade at him, howling like a cornered animal. He leads you out of the city in the shadows that night, pilfering some supplies he can find before you make it past the walls of the now engulfed Cintra. Something about that night had clouded his judgement, changed him, but he did not yet understand why that was so. He did not even understand it when he kept up the charade of savoir, taking her east instead of south to where he would be rewarded for the imposter Cirilla.

“I demand the dagger,” you state, hand outstretched and conviction firm. He blinks up at you in confusion. To Cahir, you look like a blazing angel, the light of the fire making your hair resemble a halo. He would hand over the dagger, and should you wish to plunge it into his chest he would not move a hand to stop or delay you. He sighs as he relinquishes the one dagger to you, the only form of protection, your fingers brushing his as your grasp curls around it, a transfer of power and the last touch of your skin he may ever feel. His hand chases yours involuntarily, ever so slowly. You do not trust him anymore. You are not his to touch.

“I also demand the bedroll. We shall not share.” Not like we did last night hangs silently between you and he, and he silently concedes that to you as well. 

“In the morning, I’ll be gone. Do not attempt to search for me.”

“Please, don’t go,” his voice is weak, far away and parchment thin. Walking away from him will be hard, you realize. Knowing everything he told you… the kind of man he is. But also that he lied to you. He lied about your circumstances and interfered with your life. No, you must be strong. You must leave before dawn. If he wakes before you there’s still a chance you would fall into his arms and concede to this fate. You must stay cold. He is no different that all of the intended men you had turned down in the courts of Cintra. He was not a marriage prospect, like the lot of them were not suitable. Man after man you had rejected, scorned, and he will be just another. He will fade away soon like the others.

You tuck the dagger into the bedroll with you under the thin sheet, wrapping it around yourself as you lay down, facing him. He taught you never to turn your back on an enemy, and you guess he probably isn't the only person to say that so there probably is some truth to it. Sleep finds you soon after a half hour of forcing your eyes closed, but it always did in times of stress. Your body seems to know what you need more than you do, and right now its rest for the journey ahead. You slip downward quickly into a night as dreamless as the sky is starless tonight.

Cahir sits at the fire, staring into it, looking for clues, answers, the already fading memory of what it felt like to have you in his arms and have you kiss his face. Already, it slips from him. he steals glances to you every few minutes, to make sure his mind isn't playing tricks on him, to make sure you aren't already gone. You look peaceful, angelic in the same way you did when screaming at him but an hour earlier; the same way you did in the alley swinging a letter opener at his face. If only he could lay down next to you, to sleep peacefully. Had he known last night was his last beside you, he would have savored it more. Buried his face in your hair, held you tighter, kissed your eyelids and tried to will himself into your dreams. Everything feels heavy, as he fights to stay awake, resolving that to go without sleep is better than to sleep cold, without the feeling of you in his arms. If he has to, he won’t sleep ever again. To spare his heart. Now that he knows what it means to sleep with another, to sleep with you by his side, sleeping alone seems like a fate worse than whatever might greet him in Nilfgaard when he returns empty handed. Cahir doesn't notice falling asleep, he’s too consumed in his thoughts.

When Cahir wakes up back aching, the fire is dead and you are gone.

[miraculousbelladonna]

The Edict

This is a little something salty I wrote that was inspired by @musicfeedsmysoul12’s Judgement au. This is my first time putting any of my ML writings out into the world! I will also maybe be posting this on ao3 depending on how it’s received here! So ... if you don’t like salt, don’t interact. 

Summary: The Miraculous Ladybug cure can heal people from any wound inflicted by an akuma, even revive the dead, but if even one of the holders are not the true holders (Marinette is, Adrien isn’t) the weight of the damage done will be inflicted upon the holder of the ladybug miraculous.

Marinette thinks nothing of it, discounts the bruises, soreness, and headaches after every fight as the obligatory battle wounds. She’s clumsy, and not as in shape as a superhero should be, maybe she should drink more water. Make an effort to get some more sleep. She doesn’t think about it.

Until Syren. People drowned. People died. People who were all brought back.

At a cost.

That she paid. That she’s paying.

It starts with coughing. Something is stuck in her chest and it feels like if she coughs hard enough, she can get it out. She doesn’t.

It gets kind of hard to breathe.

It gets worse and becomes pneumonia.

It gets worse.

Her lungs are constantly filling with fluid faster than they can drain it.

She’s drowning. She’s always drowning.

They don’t know why.

They call it “dry drowning,” the body is stuck as the mind moves on, but as far as they know, Marinette wasn’t one of the ones killed in the attack. She is the only one still exhibiting symptoms of drowning, as far as they know, Ladybug had fixed everything, just like she always does. As far as they know.

The science doesn’t add up, it doesn’t make sense. They call in specialists, try to track Ladybug down to ask her what happened, to ask for clarification, for help, but she’s disappeared.

Ladybug is gone.

Marinette is laying in the hospital sick and dying for no discernible reason, no cause that anyone can find, and Tikki is furious.

She knows the cause. She knows the syren body count. She knows exactly how many people were brought back, and she knows why Marinette’s lungs are constantly filling. It won’t stop until she has drowned 1833 times. One for every person she brought back.

She will not survive it.

All because Chat Noir is not the true holder of the miraculous of destruction.

This has only ever happened to her once. She’s lost many chosen, of course, she is as old as life itself, but she has only ever lost one like this, because she went to great pains to ensure it would never happen again.

A grave mistake has been made. At the cost of her chosen. At the cost of the only true creation soul on the earth in this era. Tikki took her time crafting it. She poured in passion, ebullience, excitement, zest for life in its many forms, creativity, determination, loyalty, strength, a dash of luck, sat back to let it coalesce, and let it go. Just being near the girl makes them both more powerful, and Ladybug seems so invincible because she might as well be. She cannot he bested by a mere man or flimsy akuma.

Marinette may not be aware of how powerful she is, but she has time. She has more than enough time to grow and discover herself.

Or rather, she should.

No. She will. Tikki will correct this grievous error.

Marinette will not die. Not like this.

*****

Tikki flew out of the hospital with a purpose. She was glowing faintly because of her anger, it was so overwhelming it was almost too much to contain. She hasn’t been this angry in a millennia, so she didn’t realize that her power was leaking out of her, she didn’t see the flowers blooming and trees flowering as she flew by. She didn’t see the three pregnant ladies sitting in a cafe across the street, nor did she see that each of their waters broke simultaneously.

She needed to see Master Fu. She needed to correct this mistake by whatever means necessary.

She pauses outside of the door to collect herself. She takes a moment to leash her power, and when she sees that the glow around her has dimmed, she goes inside.

Wayzz is floating at attention in the middle of the room, waiting for her. He looks extremely nervous, and it’s bordering on fear. Good. She may be the embodiment of creation, but that in itself doesn’t make her good. She is benevolent, yes, and it’s much easier to be nice than needlessly cruel, but people so often forget how monsters came to be. They forget that she is creation. They forget that she created all of the bad things on Earth just like she created the good. Plagg may be the only living being in existence who truly understands what she’s capable of, although by the looks of him, it seems that Wayzz is remembering.

Remembering who she is. What she is. What she is capable of.

“Tikki,” he starts nervously, bowing his head in respect. “I felt your power unleash all the way across the city. I felt ... your anger. What - what happened?”

“Wayzz,” she inclines her head in acknowledgement of his deference and he relaxes. She knows this isn’t his fault. Her anger is not for him. “I am here to speak with the Guardian.”

Wayzz’s eyes widen, and she knows that he took note of how she addressed Fu, and what it means. He knows that she is here in a professional capacity. She is not here for platitudes and niceties. It takes everything in him not to tremble as he bows his head again, says, “Of course. I will go retrieve him immediately,” and rushes out of the room.

She sighs after Wayzz leaves. She didn’t mean to scare him, and she didn’t mean to get so angry, but mistakes were made and Marinette is suffering. Marinette is fighting for her life and for the lives of everyone who died during Syren, because if she dies so does everyone she brought back, and the least Tikki can do is rectify this error. Make sure it never happens again.

She feels herself beginning to glow again as she remembers the last time this happened. Her anger rises as she remembers that she thought she had already ensured this would never happen again. She doesn’t try to reign in her emotions or her power this time. Fu needs to remember exactly who and what he’s dealing with. It’s time for her to remind him.

Fu looks surprised as he walks into the room. Every potted plant in the room has grown at least five inches taller than they were when he saw them last. He sees Tikki in the middle of the room, glowing with anger that he doesn’t seem to recognize.

If he were smarter, he’d be afraid.

“Tikki, what brings you here at this time of night? Morning? Wayzz, what time is it?”

Wayzz, floating behind him, is quiet and unobtrusive when he replies, “It is currently 6:15 in the morning, Master.”

“6 in the morning? Tikki, surely whatever it was could’ve waited until a more appropriate time.”

Her anger spikes and all the plants in the room grow another three inches. She is shaking with anger. It takes everything in her, will she hasn’t exerted in millennia, to hold her power back. To hold it in.

“My chosen is dying in the hospital right now, there is no more appropriate time. Do you even know why?”

Fu’s face crumples in shock and worry, and he opens his mouth to speak but she cuts him off with a sharp wave of her arm.

“No. Do not speak. For once, you are going to listen. Marinette, as I'm sure you know, is a true creation soul. She is the true creation soul. The only one. And she is currently dying in the hospital because you have made a mistake. A grievous error. I want you to tell me what you think that error might be. I want you to think about why Marinette, a young healthy 15 year old girl, is currently in the hospital dying.” She narrows her eyes at him as he opens his mouth only to shut it again. She gestures for him to speak, and says, “Go ahead.”

“I don’t- I don’t know why she would be in the hospital. Was there an accident?”

Tikki shuts her eyes and breathes in deeply, letting it out in a big sigh. When she opens her eyes again they are tinged with red, glowing just like the rest of her is.

“No. Wrong answer.”

Wayzz moves out from behind Fu and goes to hide behind one of the plants that are steadily growing taller by the minute.

“You see, I could have forgiven this if it were only as a result of your lack of training. I could have given you some leeway. Maybe you misread Adrien’s soul, it happens. True destruction souls are marginally more common than true creation ones. Maybe you didn’t know what would happen when you gave him that ring, that’s understandable. That’s something we might have been able to move past. But, what I cannot, will not forgive, is the fact that you let his behavior go unchecked. You enabled and coddled him and encouraged, no, manipulated Marinette to do the same. It’s been going well enough so far, or I’m sure that’s what you’ve been telling yourself, but today, people died. People died and because Adrien is not a true soul of destruction, because the balance is uneven, Marinette is bearing the weight of the lives of every person she brought back with the cure. She is dying all of their deaths, and it will not stop until she has experienced all 1833 of them.”

Wayzz gasps audibly at the revelation, flying out from behind the plant and going to hover next to Tikki. “Master, please. You didn’t. You couldn’t have. Tell me you didn’t.”

Fu looks away guiltily, unable to answer, and Tikki’s composure snaps.

She’s seething. Her entire body is practically vibrating, and the glow around her gets brighter and brighter until it’s blinding them all. The plants continue to grow even faster, their leaves are all filling the room, clogging it, and it doesn’t stop. She can’t reign her anger back in. She doesn’t want to.

“You have thoughtlessly endangered the lives of not only my chosen, but everyone in Paris time and time again. Did you think you’d get away with it? That Marinette was too young, too naive to speak up? Too nice to complain about what Chat has been doing to her? Did you think that nothing like this would ever happen? That I’d never find out? If so, you are as ignorant as you are stupid, Wang Fu, but regardless, your time is up. You will pay for what you have done to Marinette, and for what you’ve allowed to happen to Paris.”

Fu looks chastened and guilty, but it’s not enough. It will never be enough. Marinette has already died 5 times between when she was admitted last night and now. She’s been brought back every time due to the tireless efforts of the hospital staff, but sometime soon it will not be enough.

“I, Tikki, Kwami of Creation, hereby revoke guardianship of Wang Fu. Every miraculous that you have distributed except for mine will be returned to the miracle box, including yours. You will never again hold or wield a miraculous. You will never be able to speak of this to anyone. You will spend the next month aging to however old you’d be without Wayzz’s interference. You will die alone with nothing to accompany you except for the weight of your own mistakes. Wayzz, will you be my witness?”

Wayzz swallows hard, eyes watering as he looks at Fu, who looks about a step away from getting on his knees and begging. He thinks of Marinette, of what it means to be a true creation soul, and how her soul is on the verge of being snuffed out because of a mistake his Master made, a mistake that has only ever been made once before, and nods. “I, Wayzz, Kwami of Protection, am witness to the revocation of Wang Fu’s guardianship. I concur with everything that Tikki, Kwami of Creation, has decided. The judgement will be enacted whenever she so chooses.”

Tikki speaks in a language as old as time, a tongue that is only known to the Kwami and the Guardian, “The judgement is passed.”

Fu hears the first sentence and drops to the ground in shock. Tikki isn’t done, but whatever she’s saying now, he can’t understand it. He looks up at her and opens his mouth, and finds that he can’t speak to her either. He can’t speak to either of the Kwami. His vision swims the longer he looks at them, and his head starts to throb. He has to turn away. The miraculous is a physical weight on his arm, dragging him down until his arm hits the floor and the bracelet snaps open.

A sort of shock goes through the room, emanating from the both of them out through the building, through the city, and the miracle box opens. Every drawer and shelf in the box opens in unison, and as the turtle miraculous flies into its spot, all of the Kwami fly out of their Miraculi to see what’s happening. They haven’t had a summoning like this in millennia. Something is very, very wrong.

The miraculous of destruction flies into the miracle box, and as soon as it lands Plagg immediately floats out of it. He’s frantic, growing even more so as he sees Tikki glowing with power. “Tikki, I didn’t know. I swear to you that I didn’t know. His soul was already corrupted when he got my miraculous, I didn’t know he wasn’t mine, you know true destruction souls aren’t as rare as creation ones, I couldn’t tell. I know that’s not good enough but sugar cube, I am sorry. I am so truly sorry.”

Tikki looks at him and nods, but doesn’t interrupt her speech. It takes him a moment to realize she’s speaking in the old tongue, and as he listens to what she’s saying, as he turns and sees the wreckage of the overgrown plants, as he sees all the Kwami floating around them, staring at the man who is on the floor crying with his eyes covered and face turned away from them, he realizes what’s happening, and feels his heart turn to stone in his chest.

“Guardianship of the Miraculi will be transferred to Marinette Dupain-Cheng, my current chosen and the acting Ladybug, hero of Paris. Myself and my Kwami brethren will teach her our ways, and teach her how to be a proper Guardian. We will protect her as she has chosen to protect us and all the people of Paris. She will never again be overlooked. She will never again be belittled or made to feel insignificant. She will go down in history as the most powerful Ladybug and the best Guardian the world has ever seen. Who will be witness to this edict?”

Wayzz finds it much easier to speak up this time, and is the first to agree. “I, Wayzz, Kwami of Protection, am witness to this edict.”

Plagg is glaring daggers at the pathetic scrap of a man still crying on the floor. “I, Plagg, Kwami of Destruction, am witness to this edict.”

Another shock goes through the room, the building, the city, at his declaration. The Kwami all glow for a moment with the release of power, and then grow wary at what has had to happen for such power to be released. What happened that meant this power needed to be released?

Either way, they trust Tikki, and they know her. She is Creation, she is life. She is their mother in the sense that she blinked them into existence. She has never steered them wrong. The fact that she is asking for witnesses, even now, instead of just exerting her will as the Goddess of Creation, as is her right, speaks volumes. They have never had a reason to doubt her, for she has never even thought of giving them one.

Tikki is staring at all of them in turn, still glowing with power. The Kwami all inhale collectively, exhale in unison, close their eyes, inhale again to connect to each other, and when their eyes are open they are each glowing in accordance to their power.

“We, the Kwami of the Miracle Box of Paris, are witness to this edict. We accept Marinette Dupain-Cheng as the new Guardian. We will protect her as she has chosen to protect us and the city of Paris. She will never again be overlooked. She will never again be belittled or made to feel insignificant. We concur.”

Tikki takes a deep breath, and as she finishes the summoning, she releases her power in a third and final shockwave that has the lights in the entire city flickering.

“It is done.”

***

Miles away, attached to machines and tubes in a hospital bed, Marinette opens her eyes.

[spell-cleaver]

DAY 17: WHUMPTOBER: I Didn’t See That Coming - Dirty Secret @whumptober2020​

The Pirate Son AU Masterpost. This is an immediate sequel to the previous ficlet (The Song).

Luke was still sitting in a small puddle on the floor of his room when Vader returned, staring into space. Vader just sighed, knelt down next to him, took the towel and wrapped it around Luke’s shoulder, starting to rub at his hair.

Luke looked up at him. Now dressed in a complete departure from his usual black ensemble, some ragged brown trousers, a beige shirt and a scrappy dark jacket, he looked totally different from the monster who’d hunted him for so long. That, and—

“Your…” Luke swallowed. “Your mask.” He wasn’t wearing it at all.

His father smiled at him—it was a quick, bitter smile, more a flash of the teeth, as though he hadn’t bothered with letting anyone see him smile in a long, long time. “It was getting rusty, and cold. I took it off for now.”

“Oh.” Luke was still staring.

Vader looked… He’d been right, Luke thought, all those years ago when he’d first met his father and worried that they looked alike. They did look similar, from the colour of their hair to the clefts in their chins to the shapes of their eyes. Vader’s were a vicious yellow though, and Luke found it uncomfortable to make contact with them for too long.

His father was deathly pale, too, with his skin clinging close to his skull and faint blue tinges at his temple. His hair was cut severely short, shorn close to his head, only adding to the harsh effect, enhancing the blue, and Luke couldn’t help but compare it mentally to his own hair, getting long enough that Leia had starting braiding it in the few days before his capture. He wondered what his father would’ve thought if he’d shown up with that. He wondered if he could try and braid his own hair, now that it wasn’t like he had much else to do…

He wondered why he kept distracting himself.

“What…” His voice was hoarse, his back ramrod straight—he wanted to lean into Vader, but he couldn’t—as he whispered, “What happened, then…?”

Vader paused in drying Luke’s hair and laid the towel around his shoulders again. “When Palpatine inherited the crown of Coruscant and started expanding his Empire with the promise of eradicating piracy from the seas, I joined him wholeheartedly. I hated pirates—they carried the slave shipment that my mother died in—and he promised he knew a way to make sure they never stained the seas again. My wife, Padmé, the light of my life… She was pregnant. I had a family to protect—scouring pirates from the face of the seven seas was certainly a way I was going to achieve that. So I joined him, as one of the most powerful sorcerers to sail the seas, and when I confided in him that I was worried about one day dying in battle and leaving my family alone, the way my father did to me… He told me there was a way to stop myself and others, from dying.”

Luke swallowed, and tried very hard not to think of the way that bullet three years ago had punched right through Vader’s chest, yet still he’d continued on. “That way was to become undead?”

“It was to strip you of your humanity, in the long run,” Vader said, his voice flat. “Taking your mortality is a vital part of that. I cannot eat—not that I need to—and nor can I die. Padmé was horrified by what I’d done to myself—and…”

Vader hesitated. He stood up, to open a drawer and pull out a change of clothes for Luke, so his back was turned to him when he said, “Horrified by the implication that this sort of half-life was what I’d been planning to give my wife and child, as well.”

Luke sucked in a breath.

He felt like he’d been punched.

“You…” He took several heaving breaths. “You— you want me to live like this!?”

“No,” Vader said. “I had not asked Palpatine for the details of the curse, and nor did he offer them. And it is a curse—one that was passed onto all my men, once he gave me a ship with which to serve him. I am bound to him so long as I am in this form, he can sense me and track me wherever I go, he can control every aspect of my life, and I will serve him.”

Luke gaped. “And you agreed to that?”

“No. I did not know what he was offering me—Padmé was right to object to foisting this hellish existence on our child as well, but…” He straightened up again, a nightshirt in hand, and half-turned back to Luke. His eyes were closed.

“She left,” he whispered. “She left me, when she was still pregnant. I searched for her for months.”

“I thought you said you killed her.”

“I searched for her for months,” Vader reiterated, slightly more harshly—then calmer, again, when Luke flinched. “I did not find her until I boarded and inspected a small fisherman’s craft, which she had paid for passage to Alderaan on, with our baby. She’d… she’d set up a life in the hills of Naboo, as far from the sea as she could be, in the months she was away, she’d said, but then… But then you had got sick,” his throat was tight, “with some illness, something magic-related that she couldn’t understand… Sorcerer children get it, frequently. She was travelling to Alderaan, where she would find Kenobi, an old friend who’d turned her against me when I was first cursed, who’d convinced her to leave me in the first place—”

“I know who Ben is,” Luke said shortly.

Vader took a breath. “Yes.” He turned around fully to sit cross-legged opposite Luke, and passed him the nightshirt. Luke put it on with scepticism, but it was dry and warm; he felt slightly better. “She had been travelling to him, to get advice, leaving her home in Naboo under the care of her sister.

“I told her that I could help you. I offered all my services, all my training—magic-related illnesses are tricky, but they are rarely fatal, and I could have found something—so long as you both came back to me. I wanted you back. But she refused and… we fought…”

Luke clenched his fists in the towel and didn’t meet his father’s eyes—suddenly, suddenly he had an idea— “Tell me you didn’t… No…”

“Pirates attacked.”

Luke jerked his head up. Vader continued, “Pirates attacked the ship we were on—bold of them to, but the Executor was separated from their little schooner by the fisherman’s ship, and they couldn’t easily fire on it without fearing to hit me… They boarded the schooner. I ran out to fight them off. But it was only me and a few of my men… You were in a crib on the other end of the ship, watched over by the fisherman, and…”

Luke bowed his head. He… could see where this was going.

“I tried to fight them. But they knew you were my son—they threatened you, they took you, and in the heat of the battle, I— I pulled out my pistol and I shot—”

Vader let out a breath.

“She was in the way,” he said. “I should have been more careful. I should never have argued with her—not to the extent that she made sure you were separated from us, away from our spat. I shouldn’t have ever driven her away.

“The bullet caught her in the chest. She died in minutes. And by the time we were able to hunt down the pirates… We caught up to them days later, but they said they had thrown you overboard and laughed as you drowned.”

Luke… didn’t know how to react to that.

That was awful.

“I… I knew that Ben rescued me from pirates,” he said shakily. “That he saved me as a baby. And he told me that you were my father, several years ago, and that my mother had made it clear to him while pregnant that if anything were to happen to her, she wanted him to look after her child rather than let me go back to you.”

Vader clenched his fists at that, stiffly, but said nothing.

“I made,” he said, “a grave error. And I have lived with it, and my curse, ever since.”

Vader looked away violently, for a second, voice choked. “They took you, son. I was haunted by dreams of a little ghost boy wandering the seas for years. I— I watched that ship retreat and knew that I had lost everything, and when I learnt your name—”

“When you learnt my name,” Luke said, “you decided that anything was justified, in order to get me back?”

Vader let out a breath. “Yes.”

“Killing my friends. Hunting me. Nearly sending me to the gallows—”

“I cannot disobey my master—he ordered that you join us, or be hanged, and I had to tread very, very carefully—”

“You sent me to my death!”

Vader said, “Yes. I did. And I am going to make sure that that is something that will never happen, ever again. I am going to break this curse.”

“How!?” Luke gave him a sceptical look. “It’s a blood oath, isn’t it? It has those hallmarks. Only Palpatine can break it, unless...”

“It is not quite a blood oath, no. It was his adaptation of an old myth—about pirates who stole the wrong person’s gold. Once you took a single coin from that chest, you were cursed for life, until it was broken. He adapted it to swords—there was an old creed of sorcerers, the Sith, who forged a thousand sabres and hid them in a cave on the island of Mustafar. The perfect killing weapons, imbued with the sort of magic that sees its wielder become the ruler of the seas, but once you fasten your hands around the hilt, the curse sets in. You cannot die—but neither can you truly live.”

Vader met Luke’s eyes again, for the first time, and somehow the yellow even had a tinge of red to it, now. “He married it with a blood oath, to make it especially binding. I am his immortal servant, forever.”

“And how do you break it?”

Vader was suddenly very interested in the hem of his shirt. “It is a steep and difficult price,” he said. “Now rest. You need it—your back—”

His back had been in agony the whole time, yeah, but that wasn’t what was important here. “What is the price?”

“We will find a way,” Vader promised, and then he left the room.

Luke listened carefully, but there was no tell-tale click of a lock. He wasn’t locked in, this time.

How did his father plan to break the curse?

Blood oaths… blood oaths often required, well, blood to be broken. The death of the person bound, or the person binding. Or…

Or of someone who shared their blood.

Luke swallowed.

His father had killed his mother.

But he wouldn’t do that, would he?

Luke didn’t know. He didn’t know the man at all. Everything… everything he told him could be a lie. Everything he did could be a lie.

Had he saved him from the sirens just so he could sacrifice Luke himself, later?

Luke didn’t want to die. He especially didn’t want to die like that.

He didn’t sleep very well that night at all.

[swiftsalchemy]

Goodbye - Sasha Braus x gn!reader

A/N: SPOILER WARNING FOR THE NEW AOT EPISODE. I’m so sorry Sasha, you deserved the world, not what the end you got. Thank you for all the comfort you’ve given me over the years. This imagine goes out to all of the Sasha lovers.

THIS IS UNEDITED - THERE MAY BE SPELLING OR GRAMMAR ERRORS

summary: As Sasha Braus dies in your arms, you remember all of your memories with her throughout the years.

pairings: Sasha Braus x gn!reader

warnings: death, guns, angst, & a bit of fluff

word count: 1.7k

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    THE SOUND OF A BULLET ECHOED IN YOUR EARS. Yours eyes widened to see a young girl with brown hair that was pulled back, holding a gun in her two small arms. Next to her, a boy the same age but with platinum blonde hair - looking terrified. That’s when it struck you, what did the bullet she fired hit?

    The world turned on slow-mo as your gaze left the children and turned behind you. Your eyes scanned everyone who was still standing, they all seemed to be looking down. Slowly, your gaze followed theirs and that’s when you saw it. 

    Sasha Braus, your girlfriend of four years, was laying on the ground with blood rushing out of a hole in the middle of her stomach.

    At first, your brain couldn’t think straight. No, no, no, she couldn’t have been shot right? You asked yourself repeatedly. That’s when your body started to move. It dropped to the ground and fled to the girl’s bleeding body. For a long moment, you two stared at each other. It brought you back to the first day you two met. 

    It was a sunny day, the first official day of being in the 104th trainee corps. All of the young teens were gathered in multiple rows, standing side-by-side with each other. Slowly, Keith Shadis began making his way around and coming up to random young soldiers: asking for their names and why they were there.

    He had just finished interrogating a young girl with a long brown ponytail. Her name was Sasha Braus and she was eating a potato on the field. The wild girl had even offered half of it to Commander Shadis. You smiled, finding the brown haired girl amusing. 

    Once he was finished talking with Sasha, Commander Shadis had her row turn around. That’s when you two had first met each other’s gaze. Her large brown eyes stared directly into yours. You two held each others gaze for a long moment - it seemed like time had stopped for you two. Eventually, your serious face had broke out into a large grin as you saw a small bump in her pant pocket. Presumably, another potato was hidden inside.

    Commander Shadis had noticed your large grin and stood directly in front of you, blocking your view of Sasha Braus. Not long after, he began interrogating you just like he had for every other young soldier.

    You snapped back into reality. While you had thought of that fond memory, you were no longer smiling. Instead, tears had clouded your vision and were now coming out. You couldn’t help it, the girl you loved oh-so dearly was slowly dying. Even if Jean and Connie had screamed for a bandage to be wrapped around her - hoping to stop the bleeding. You knew that she couldn’t make it to the Island. Still, another Scout had tightly wrapped a now crimson bandage around her bullet wound.

     Slowly, you lifted her up and set her head on your thighs, hoping that it would be a much more comforting pillow than the hard flooring. You two still stared at each other. Sasha wouldn’t move her eyes, she wanted you to be the last person she saw before she couldn’t see no more. 

    You rested your hand on her cheek, holding it tightly. Trying to not cry in front of her, but it was so damn hard. “ Sasha... hey,” you said quietly, your voice almost being drowned out by the commotion behind you. 

    “ You’re so damn loud,” She said slowly, referring to the loud noises behind them and Jean and Connie’s yells of panic. Her breathing was uneven. Hearing her voice only made your tears come out heavier. “ Are we... eating soon?” She asked, causing you to briefly smile as her odd choice of last words.

    It was the Battle of Trost, your gas and sword supply had been diminished. You couldn't run or even fight anymore of the titans. You were finished, you were sure of that. This is where you would eventually die. You were just sitting in your grave, waiting for death to finally come for you.

    However, it wasn’t death who came for you. No. It was Sasha Braus, a girl you had grown quite close to over the time. You two had been extremely close, many assumed that you two had begun dating already, but no. You and Sasha were just the best of friends.

    “ Y/N!” The girl screamed, not caring if it attracted any titans to come your way. Using her ODM gear, Sasha had flown down to the ground and began racing to you, her arms outstretched wide. You too began to race to the girl, your tired legs somehow managing to propel themselves fast enough to meet the girl. 

    You both had wrapped your arms around each, not caring how uncomfortable it might’ve been with the ODM gear on. All you each cared about was being in each other’s arms once more. You dug your face into Sasha’s shoulder, a few tears of happiness had started to come out. You hadn’t seen Sasha in forever. For all you knew, she might’ve been dead. Fear not, she was right there in your arms.

     After a few long and blissful moments, Sasha pulled away from you - wiping any stray tear from your eyes that had fallen out. Again, you two just simply stared at each other - happiness feeling the atmosphere around you two.

    “ Y/N- what are you doing out here on the ground? You could die,” Sasha asked you, nothing but worry in her tone.

    “ Walking is the only option I have right now. My gas is out,” you answered. Holding back your thoughts of death. Right now, the last thing you wanted to do was make Sasha be even more worried about you.

     She bit her lip and wrapped an arm around you. “ C’mon, first, let’s get off the ground. Then we can worry about getting you more gear,” She said, readying herself for take-off. Before she started moving, Sasha looked over at you, her amber eyes shining brightly in the warm sun. “ I can’t have you dying on me, alright? We still haven’t had our meat picnic yet. You promised me one.”

    “ Of course we are, Sasha. When we get back to the Island, I’m gonna treat you to the best meat picnic ever,” you said through your tears. For a moment, it seemed the corners of Sasha’s parted lips had raised ever-so-slightly. That was good, you wanted your girlfriend to be happy. “ All you gotta do is make it to the Island, alright? Just hold on for a little bit longer... please.”

    “ Meat... “ Sasha quietly whispered, you could barely even hear her. But you did. A few moments after that, you felt her breathing slow down. 

    “ No... NO!” You screamed, not even caring how badly you were crying now. “ You can’t die, Sasha. You gotta hold on. For the Scouts, for Jean and Connie, for me,” you whispered, trying to manifest Sasha living through this.

    Soon,  Mikasa, Armin, and Connie were now at your side. Surrounding Sasha. They all stared at her, their eyes filled with tears. 

    “ Is she...?” Mikasa slowly asked, looking from Sasha up to you, who was still holding tightly onto her.

    You shook your head. “ Not yet. Her breathing is extremely slow, but she will be soon,” you admitted in defeat. There was no hope left in you, the dreaded moment was coming. Those around you felt it too.You all watched Sasha as her slow breaths soon became no more.

    Sasha Braus was officially dead.

    Everyone there looked at you, waiting for your reaction. Your face contorted into one of extreme pain, the tears starting to come flying out again. You felt like your heart was being ripped out. The love of your life was lying dead in your arms. The day you hoped would never come, finally did.

    The vast ocean shone a stunning blue. It looked like there was a million different gemstones floating on top of the ocean, however, it was only the sun casting a stunning glow on the water. For months, you had thought that the ocean was only a myth. Made up by Armin, Mikasa, and Eren. Yet, here you were, standing in its glory.

    Holy shit, the ocean is real.

   One-by-one, everyone hopped off of their horses and began sprinting down the hill. Their boots had sunk in the squishy flooring Armin stated was “sand”. Jean, Connie, Sasha and you had all slipped out of your boots and began racing towards the water. Due to your bare feet feeling as if they were being burned off by the hot sand.

     Once you had landed in the cool water, your whole body had relaxed. For a long time, the four of you had all played together. Jumping, splashing, and yelling with glee in the salt water. Jean had attempted to drink it, however he was quick to spit out the nasty-tasting stuff. He hoped no one had saw, but there you were laughing your ass off at the dumb boy.

    After a while longer, Jean and Connie had returned to go back to land - tired from horsing around to much. That only left Sasha and you by yourselves. You looked at her, taking in how beautiful she looked in the sunset’s glow. You two had only recently gotten together, but you had been wanting to be her’s for so much longer. 

    Ever since the Battle of Trost, you had been wanting to hold her hand and press your lips against hers without the fear of being rejected. Here you were now, finally having the freedom to call Sasha Braus your girlfriend. Yet have you two exchanged the 8 letter phrase. However, as you watched her spin around in the water, acting like there wasn’t a care in the world. You couldn’t help but finally admit those 3 words that you’ve been wanting to tell her for what felt like forever.

    “ I loved you. “

[bethesky]

Broken Bodies and Broken Minds

Ed Moustis

I wonder if other people can feel time like I do - like how I can feel how wet a single tear droplet is as it falls down my face second by second. In specific instances in life, these moments become proportionally more abundant to me. I cherish those moments that specificity and nonspecificity meet - where someone can experience everything and nothing all at once. It means that I can feel.

I felt a single tear slide down my left cheek. It wasn’t due to anything I felt. I cried on behalf of my mom. She stood ten feet in front of me and held back the sorrow of a thousand widows. I didn’t even know how to feel. I wish I did but the person I looked to for that guidance wasn’t here. I had been the odd one out my entire life. Being unique was supposed to be a good thing but I despised it. It was like I had always been a chameleon mimicking another’s reaction.

Based on her broken response, I knew what was happening. The first time that this happened, I fell into a black hole so dense that the only way to crawl out was by tooth and nail. There were battle wounds deeper than scars could show. The teeth and nails - they weren’t mine. They belonged to my friends and family that stuck by my side on the battlefield when they didn’t have to. 

This time around, hearing those dreadful words was a tank shell that shot to the depths of my soul. The fallout was too large, my psyche shattered into another million broken pieces when I hadn't even finished scrounging up the pieces from the last time. This was the beginning of the end. The cancer was back and I would soon be deployed back into a war that I am not meant for.

After my doctor finished the discussion with my mother, his sorrowful eyes turned towards me. I would hate to be in his shoes - telling a sixteen-year-old boy that he would go back into hell. The demons he fought still cursed him and his last fight were futile - dying was for nothing. The first time his heart stopped was not the end of the war. The battle rages on and he will be sent to the front lines. Again.

Time was still. I began to experience a new level again. I noticed, my medical doctor has these exceptional specs in his eyes that made me feel warm. I had always been oblivious to their pungency. His words, as if bullets which left no visible battle wounds were undetectable to my brain. I knew I was going to go through this again - my brain was filtering the painful dialogue that accompanied the truth. Would it be another few years of chemo or a year's worth of surgeries? This drug of distress that I was on, it burned through me. His lips flopped around like a fish looking for water. My attempts to decode his foreign language were unsurprisingly useless. Even if I could understand what he was saying, I don’t think I would want to hear it. I had been using all the shrapnel from the tank shell to build an impenetrable wall that even my mother couldn’t tear down.

Once the doctor concluded his script, I noticed my mom approach me. She had always been so wonderful - a personal Joan of Arc by my side. The ferocity of this woman was simply unmatched by even an Amazonian warrior. Also, her vitality was that of a dragon. To mirror that further, she was as independent as a one as well. The troubling similarity between Joan of Arc, a dragon, and my mother was their extremely troubling tendency with being caught up in flames. 

The first time I was diagnosed, my mother became a baron of light. She crafted her whole universe for me and I was the sun - that was until she fell into her own black hole. One son was crippled with cancer while the other was crippled from a car accident. Torn in two, like her life was one brilliantly, horribly crafted medieval trap, she crumbled upon the weight of two. The broken puzzle that was my family was limited to a post-war Joan of Arc, a collapsed sun, but more fittingly, a collection of black holes.

My mother grabbed my hand. I was drafted back into reality. As small of a woman as she was, I required her to use a pinch less of her strength for the sake of my hands. I made a prolonged look at her and her hand ironically tightened. A sense of relief flushed through me though. I wanted to control this twisted world and I couldn’t. I knew she thought that she was trying to comfort me. In my heart, I recognized that she needed me as much as I needed her. The equality of our relationship was comfortable enough. 

In the auditory section, my brain still seemed to be malfunctioning. Once again, I sat in anticipation to see how my mother would react. As expected, upon the conclusion of the doctor’s final remarks, she approached him and wrapped her little arms around him. He gave a gentle, half-smile to me while she hugged him. I suppose, if I was going to be diagnosed with cancer again by anyone, I would want it to be him.

The white halls of the hospital were endless. I knew every twist and turn of this maze. I recognized the faces of too many nurses as I passed by. Children my age and younger flooded the floor. Those same children were fighting the fight I did - and will again. We were the children at war. The casualty rates were always too high and friends made here were in vain. The sudden loss of a fellow soldier would be too much of a burden to carry along with the rest. As we approached the exit of this underage morgue, a light stuck through the doors. It was always sunny when I left this bleak building. I wonder if I will see a light like this when I die someday. I hope I will. I didn’t see anything last time. 

The chatter of the world came back to me and the noise pierced through my brain. It grew louder and louder until it quickly overwhelmed me. I tried to keep my reaction to a minimum to ensure that my mom didn’t attempt to cradle me. I had a subtle feeling, under my special circumstances, I wouldn’t mind that. I could never grow the strength to let that myself succumb to my feelings. Every day I want to collapse but then I’m giving in.

Like two brick walls, we walked over to the filled parking lot. It was only when in private, in the security of our personal chariot, that she began to speak to me. I wasn’t looking at her, but I could sense the movement of her eyes dart back and forth. She was searching for the right words to say - a needle in a haystack. I began to worry she might bring up what happened inside right away. I was not processing. It would make everything too real for me to handle. I knew my mother like the back of the hand and I was well aware of the conversation we were about to have; even if I desired otherwise. As anticipated she said, “Finn, how do you feel about the procedure next week?”

I slowly turned my head toward her. I usually heard vital words like “procedure” when I spaced out. How did I miss that? “The procedure?” My face looked extremely puzzled. As soon as I noticed it, she did as well. It was my grave error that I let that slip.

A despairing breath slipped out of my chemo-damaged lungs as she questioned, “Oh… you blanked out, didn’t you? I thought that you were going to work on that with Doctor Graham?” Hearing the doctor’s name zoned me back into reality. It was to no surprise she would bring up Graham. That genius of a man was an on-site engineer, my on-site medic, that would dig me out of the debris that I got lost in. He was capable of telling me of truths that seemed so far gone, yet were true, that even Schrödinger’s cat couldn’t find. My mom sought out treatment from him after my dad passed away in a car crash. It was that same car crash that made my brother into a temporary pile of jelly. She only could pick one topic to mourn for at once. She decided to choose my brother, Parker’s, injuries since I was on the final days of my tour. Due to the raging success that Doctor Graham had with my mother, my brother Parker and I see him regularly. I quickly snap out of my personal solar system and hear my mom speak to me, “Finn?”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re working on it,” I said with bated breath, “What procedure?” I felt my body now firmly planted into the seat. My skin laid on my bones - a feeling only a cancer patient could appreciate. It wasn’t crawling. The thought of a procedure kept me slightly hopeful - something I rarely was. The tank shell that was shot into me earlier began to digress. The pieces slip back into me. A year of surgeries would be much better than three years of chemo. I have had plenty of procedures that called for me being surrounded by the brightest minds in the world - the one percentile of geniuses.

“They said that the procedure… it uh… it will… “ she stopped speaking. I couldn’t tell if she was choking up but the concept frightened me. My head was screwed forward onto the road. The hope I had mustered up lied in the balance of her next words. She had never had an issue breaking grim news to me and I had never experienced a situation so dark and brutal that my mother had stumbled over her words. 

This was the woman that stumbled into her dying son’s room to tell him that while they were at chemo earlier this morning his dad and brother were t-boned by a truck that ran a red light. She spoke to me, with the stillness of a mountain to not frighten me, that my father, her husband since the age of nineteen, died on impact and my brother was in critical condition with lady luck favoring him not to make it. And, if he does, then he will never take another step in his life.

“Mom, what is it?” I asked quickly. I recognized my dimwitted curiosity. My naiveness took control while I should have been bracing. Whatever came next, I was sure I was strong enough for it. I was my mom’s sun. Nothing could be fiercer than that.

“The procedure is the only way to eliminate the remaining cancer threat in your body,” she slowly whispered.

“And? That’s wonderful! I don’t have to do any more chemo or worry about relapsing again!” I said. My words grew in strength after each breath. The debris cleared completely. 

She immediately said, “The procedure has a ten percent survival rate.” The joy that came from my words was vanquished. The world stopped spinning. I flew a million miles per hour. My speed shredded my hope down to its finest atom. I had been alive for only sixteen years and six of those prime years were taken by cancer already. Now it was destined to steal my life. Even the suns have to die but at least they get to live a real life.

Time stopped when my Earth stood still. I had reached that same moment of singularity as earlier. Every lamppost, every sign, it spoke to me. I was attuned to the universe. Everything I had experienced on this Earth told me that I had already been unlikely my entire life and that, in this case now, there would be no difference in this procedure. Signing on to do this procedure is no different than making a deal with death. I wanted to be able to write my own destiny but it was road blocked by ten-percent. I would become nothing more than a statistic.

I was still in shock by the time we arrived at the house. Our car pulled up to the driveway and my mother ushered me by the arm into the house. My face was perfectly blank. She quickly sat me on the couch. 

A life I would never have flashed in my mind. I would never get to walk arm-by-arm with my mother at my wedding. That though meant she would never get to see me get married. She would never see my children and become a grandmother. I could never give a remarkable, memorable best man’s speech to Charlie, the only girl that has ever shown interest in my brother, and Parker at their wedding.

Worst of all, I would never be able to kiss Robin. The only woman in my entire life that I am sure that I have ever loved. Leaving her will be the worst. Parker and I were supposed to marry those sisters. Robin is the fourth amigo in our broken bunch. We are all supposed to get drinks with Doctor Graham when we reach twenty-one to thank him for keeping us under his umbrella of helpful advice and correctly appointed sympathy. 

As the memories of the future came and went, my mom was telling Parker. I was so convinced that he was going to rise from his wheelchair and hug me. His wheels were still on the living room carpet. He looked at my shaking hands on my knees where fingers were tapping like machine guns - bang bang bang. My consciousness was grasping at any reality that wasn’t this one. All feeling viscously vanished. I kept questioning “Do I even breathe anymore?”. 

With all the courage that I could find, I stood up. Instantly, I stole the attention, any words that floated in the room settled in the air. My feet moved for me. I wondered if this is what robots felt. In a blink, I was in my messy, teenage room. I grabbed my alarm, set it for three hours from now, and I laid down. Doctor Graham always told me that a beneficial way to relieve stress was by sleeping. After testing so many methods, that was the one that spoke to me the most. My eyes shut. Just for an instant, I felt real peace. The image of darkness reminded me of death. I was not going to come back again. I was already undead and there is no resurrection for those who have come back once. Hopefully, it would be quick and painless. The thoughts panned to troubled and painful ones in a flash. I began questioning too much about the life that was stripped away from me. I didn’t want to go. How long until I’m not talked about? That’s when I really die.

An ethereal hand shot from the sky in my dream. I was pulled into my unwelcoming reality. The alarm blared. My hand floated over it to stop the blaring. I sat up on the bed and felt my body and the sweat that covered it. I had one week to live. For once, in many years, I felt real hope. I knew what I was going to do with my last week on this Earth. I would make a death list for my broken self to live out - a scrambled last-ditch effort to achieve the things in life I haven’t had a chance to do quite yet. I scrambled over to my notebook sitting on my desk. It flew open. I couldn’t tell if it was denial that struck me or something real. I could run away and perform all these tasks. A brave adventure awaited me.

As I wrote down my last will and testament, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. After trying so hard, I couldn’t keep fighting so reluctantly, I began to sob. I didn’t want to go! My brother heard me as soon as I hit the floor and rolled into the room. From seeing his fallen, fellow soldier down in the ditches, he used any strength he could muster to leap from his throne. He crawled through his trenches to hold me. I just cried; and he just cradled me.

For a whole hour, I was laying down there as my brother comforted me. He let me cry in his arms until all of the water in my system had been flushed out. He knew there was no point in telling me to stop. I had only one week to live. When the tears were finished, we both sat up against my wooden bed frame. We sat in silence for another hour. He was next to me and that was all that mattered - my battle buddy had my back. No words needed to be spoken because the actions were loud enough. After the time had slipped away, I helped him back into his cushioned chair. When I noticed that he was looking at my notebook, my face began to flush red. He couldn’t see that. 

“What’s that?” Parker questioned immediately. He wheeled over to the notebook before I could walk over there. He was surprisingly fast in that chair.

“Nothing! Shit! Don’t look!” I pleaded. He skimmed the page with his finger. His chair was perfect reading height, unfortunately. I was expecting a long banter with him but when he was finished, he just looked at me in shock.

“Okay. But mom would let you do this,” he nonchalantly said. His words threw me off guard.

“I know. I was thinking of…”

He quickly interrupted me. I could hear the appalled tone in his voice, “Running away? Mom will find you.”

“I know. It sounds really stupid but I need this week. I need to live for once. No chemo. No cancer. Just me.”

“There is so much that could go wrong! You want to go to a high school party and go cliff diving and…”

“I’m doing it. I’m doing all of it. Me against the world,” I said with a smile on my face. I wanted to be a warrior like my mom - braving the world one step at a time. He wasn’t going to stop me.

“No,” he bluntly said.

“You literally can’t stop me,” I chuckled.

“Us against the world,” he sighed, “someone needs to keep you safe. If something happens to you, mom will kill me.”

I was surprised but seemingly not surprised at the same time. This wasn’t a solo journey. Someone would have to tell my story. A broken body and a broken mind running off to war together. This time I would be choosing and that felt freeing. I felt free.

[crackimagines]

Going Dark (FE: Three Houses Full Fic)

Overlord AU Masterlist

Other Au’s Listed Here!

---

With Ainz being transported to Fodlan unable to find out how the world works, he takes it upon himself to find out and prepare his followers and House Isekai for what’s to come.

Ainz dons his persona, the Dark Warrior Momon, once more to investigate Fodlan with his trusted companion Nabe.

Prologue

[Oath of Loyalty to the Supreme Being - Overlord]

Ainz sat down at a table the Pleiades had set up for him, big enough for the denizens of the Great Tomb of Nazarick to sit at. He was at the head of the table while his Floor Guardians took both sides of the table while the Pleiades stood to the side.

(Sebas) “Lord Ainz, everyone is now here. Shall we begin the emergency meeting?”

(Ainz) “Yes. Now, let us discuss the information we have gathered thus far on Fodlan.

(Albedo) “Then I will begin my findings first.”

She cleared her throat as her wings flapped gently.

(Albedo) “In terms of the people and technology, they appear to be slightly behind the world we were at before. While their number of magic casters appear to be higher, the levels of spells and power they wield seem to be lower than expected. This information was all gathered at the Monastery.”

(Cocytus) “AFTER CLOSELY STUDYING THE KNIGHTS OF SEIROS, THEIR RELICS AND FIGHTING CAPABILITIES APPEAR TO BE ON PAR WITH THOSE OF OUR OLD WORLD. THE RELIC WEAPONS ARE NOT TO BE UNDERESTIMATED, BUT I AM UNABLE TO DETERMINE WHETHER OR NOT THEY ARE A THREAT TO US IN PARTICULAR. HOWEVER, THE LOW LEVEL MOBS AND UNDEAD WE SPAWNED NEAR THE MONASTERY TO SEE HOW POWERFUL THEY ARE, THE KNIGHTS OF SEIROS HAVE BEEN ABLE TO TAKE THEM DOWN EASILY. THIS INFORMATION WAS GATHERED AT THE MONASTERY.”

(Demiurge) “The politics of this world appear to be a bit more stable, with the Church of Seiros leading everyone. The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Leicester Alliance appear to be pleased with the Church, but something about Edelgard’s actions and words seem to say otherwise. At least regarding the Adrestian Empire. I will need more time to fully assess her intentions, along with Rhea. This information was gathered at the Monastery as well.”

Ainz took a moment to process all the information given to him. Truth be told, he could not care less about the politics of this world. It wasn’t the one the tomb was in, so he just wanted to return as quickly as possible.

The issue that bothered him the most was the unknown power difference in Fodlan.

In his world, he was practically a god to everyone, and most of his followers couldn’t even be harmed by their most powerful weapons. He and the others of Nazarick were mostly level 100, while the strongest in that world appeared to be around 40-50.

Now, he had no idea if he was underpowered or not.

Ainz looked at his own hands and then back to the Floor Guardians. 

(Ainz) “Aura, Mare, do you feel any limitations in your spellcasting?”

They were quiet for a moment before they nodded.

(Aura) “Y-Yes actually, Lord Ainz. Something hasn’t been feeling right ever since we got here, and I think that’s the issue!”

Everyone turned to the twins with wide eyes.

[”What’s wrong, Lord Momonga?” - Overlord]

(Mare) “U-U-Um...I don’t feel like I’ve completely been stripped of power but...something IS missing.”

Everyone else in the room started to examine themselves and realized that some of their abilities did feel dampened.

This made Ainz even more tense, though his skeletal face didn’t show it. 

He had no idea what they would be up against in this world, and from the looks of what assignments House Isekai was assigned, this world wouldn’t stay peaceful for long.

The fact people like Class VII with their advanced guns and technology struggled against some of the people here, and Persona users were having trouble with what should be inferior foes was almost enough to make him shudder.

He had no doubt that his group were in the upper tier of power in the House, there would be no telling what kind of curveballs could be thrown at them, especially since he didn’t know how magic worked in this world.

In his world, it worked like an MMO. Now, it was a complete unknown. 

Ainz couldn’t afford to be careless here.

(Ainz) “It appears we need to gather information from beyond the Monastery in order to fully understand the situation we’re in. I want everyone to take no chances. There’s no telling if Fodlan possesses enemies more dangerous than our old ones. From what I can gather, we have been limited in our skills and spells. Not completely gone, but that must mean precautions must be taken more than ever.”

Ainz stood up from the table.

(Ainz) “I want everyone to be travelling in pairs when gathering information. You are not to be permitted to travel outside the Monastery unless you have my blessings. Narberal Gamma!”

(Naberal) “My lord.”

(Ainz) “Prepare your adventurer gear and be ready to leave with me.”

(Albedo) “Lord Ainz, are you-”

(Ainz) “I intend to go as Momon in this world, yes.”

(Sebas) “My lord, with all due respect, it would be much better to send the Pleiades out in reconnaissance. The risk of going out is terribly great-”

(Ainz) “That is precisely why I am going out myself. I need to understand firsthand how this world works, otherwise we may commit a grave error in the long run. We have no idea how long we will be here, and when we will return. I understand and appreciate your concern, Sebas. That goes for the rest of you.”

Ainz was about to announce the meeting’s end before noticing Yuri’s expression.

The other Pleiades noticed it too, and Lupisregina tapped her on the shoulder.

(Lupisregina) “Sis?”

(Yuri) “...”

Yuri quietly motioned towards the door with her head. 

Everyone understood immediately. There was someone listening in.

They drew out their weapons and prepared their magic silently as CZ2128 and Narberal quickly headed to the side of the walls.

CZ pulled out an assault rifle while Narberal pulled out a staff.

The two battle maids looked at Ainz for the signal.

(Ainz) “Very well, this meeting is adjourned.”

Narberal kicked the door down as CZ aimed her rifle down at the hallway, finger on the trigger

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

(CZ) “Identify yourselves or die in the name of Ainz Ooal-”

(Aqua) “AQUAAAAA!”

(Kazuma) “KAZUMA! KAZUMA! IT’S KAZUMA, DON’T FUCKING SHOOT!”

[My Dear Personage - Overlord]

Everyone’s faced turned from tense to completely disappointed and annoyed.

(Shalltear) “What are those idiots doing down here?!”

Ainz walked out to meet them.

(Ainz) “Explain yourselves, now.”

(Kazuma) “W-WE WERE JUST WONDERING WHY YOU ALL WERE DOWN HERE!”

(Aqua) “Y-YEAH! ALL OF US SAW YOU GOING DOWN SO WE WERE CURIOUS! IT WAS EVERYONE ELSE’S IDEA TOO!”

(Ainz) “...Everyone else?”

Minako, Minato, Yu, Akira, Doomguy, Rean, and Megumi popped their heads around the corner.

(Yu) “Uh...hi.”

(Akira) “I mean, I’m a Phantom Thief. Eavesdropping’s my thing.”

(Minako) “I’m just nosy.”

(Minato) “S-Sorry.”

(Rean) “We were just concerned is all! Well, at least me and Megunee were.”

(Megumi) “H-Hi, Ainz...!”

Doomguy shrugged.

HOW DID WE NOT NOTICE ANY OF THEM?!

(Narberal) “You insects DARE TO EAVESDROP ON LORD AINZ?! I WILL CUT YOU DOWN WHERE YOU STAND IF LORD AINZ PERMI-”

(Ainz) “H-HEY HEY HEY! CALM DOWN!”

Ainz frantically waved his hands to calm her down, and which he turned back to Kazuma.

(Ainz) “AND WHAT THE HELL KAZUMA?! WHY’D YOU-”

Before Ainz could panic any further, he felt his emotions suddenly calm down as a blue glow emitted around him.

(Ainz) “...ahem...It was only House Isekai that followed us here, correct?”

(Megumi) “Y-Yes. Everyone else is unaware that you’re even gone!”

Ainz sighed internally and shook his head.

(Ainz) “You’re lucky that I was here to stop them. If you did that while I was absent, I’m fairly positive you all would have died. Regardless, how much did you hear?”

(Aqua) “Well um...the entire thing.”

(Yu) “W-Well, just so that we didn’t get your heart rate up for nothing, since we’ve been here a little longer, we can provide specifics on what we’ve seen!”

(Minako) “Oh yeah, that’s right! We’ve been doing a field study or two outside!”

(Megumi) “Doomguy, Sara, and I have been working with the church.”

(Ainz) “...Well, I suppose you will be of use then. We speak not a word of our information to the church, or any of the other houses. Understood?”

Everyone nodded.

Ainz at first suspected that some of House Isekai might tell the others, but when he thought about it a bit more, who in their right mind would want to betray House Isekai?

All of them were in the same boat as the others.

If they made enemies of anyone, then there’s a good chance they won’t be coming back alive to their world. Cooperation is absolutely vital for everyone here.

Still, couldn’t hurt to be careful.

(Ainz) “Demiurge.”

(Demiurge) “My lord?”

(Ainz) “Collect the information House Isekai has gathered and see if we can find anything of use. Even mundane details might help us in the long run. Everyone else, as of this moment, House Isekai is under my protection. That does not extend to the Golden Deer, Blue Lions, or Black Eagles.”

(Everyone) “Yes, Lord Ainz!”

Naberal walked behind him as the House representatives went into the room to discuss with Demiurge.

(Ainz) “Now, Naberal. Let’s get going, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

[Overlord Opening]

---

Side Story:

The Raven-Black Warrior

[First, Let’s Gather Information - Overlord]

The first thing that the people of Garreg Mach’s town noticed that day was how bright the sun was shining. It was a blinding but comforting light. 

The second thing they noticed was the man and woman that they had never seen before.  

She wore a simple brown cloak, but she was the most beautiful woman they had ever seen.

He was just as captivating, for an entirely different reason. He was extremely tall and wore armor as black as night, complemented with a golden trim that accented his body. 

The two swords he had on his back were bigger than the woman who was accompanying him.

No one knew their names but everyone was too afraid to ask, letting them go on their way.

Guards took notice of them and kept a close eye if they attempted anything, they were the most suspicious people in the past few months alone.

(Nabe) “It appears that adventurers don’t appear to be part of this world. Everyone is staring at us.”

(Momon) “Well that’s how it was back then, but you seem to be right. They seem to be less in awe and more on guard. Not that I blame them.”

In his old world, Ainz and Narberal posed as adventurers, Momon and Nabe, looking for quests and worked their way up from the bottom to the top for their heroism and the way they blew through quests.

It seems like the MMO aspects were completely alien in Fodlan, judging by the way everyone looked at them with fear.

When they found their way into the Inn, the same reaction was made by everyone inside.

There wasn’t anything noteworthy inside the inn, not the people or the decor.

He went to the counter and took a seat. There was a woman in knight’s armor next to him, but Ainz didn’t pay any mind to her. She was most likely a guard on break or something. The innkeeper turned around and jumped at the towering man in armor before her.

(Innkeeper) “M-May I help you?”

(Momon) “How much for the night?”

(Innkeeper) “Uh...100 gold.”

Ainz reached inside his belt and pulled out a small pouch. Looking inside, it was only 50 gold.

(Momon) “...I only have 50.”

(Innkeeper) “Then I’m sorry. We cannot allow you to stay.”

Nabe’s face scrunched up, insulted that her highness should even have to pay for a room. Already knowing how she is in this situation, Ainz raised his hand.

(Momon) “Then that’s fine. I’ll just take a drink. Ale’s fine.”

The innkeeper nodded and went to get the drink as requested.”

(Female Knight) “Psh, all that fancy armor and you can’t even get a room. Money well spent.”

The two turned to the woman who finished chugging down her mug.

(Momon “Hm?”

Upon closer inspection,the woman had messy blond hair, and the knight’s uniform seemed to be of higher craft.

It was then Ainz noticed her sword. It was some jagged and uneven yellow sword. His thoughts were interrupted from Narberal’s reply.

(Nabe) “Watch your tongue.”

(Momon) “Nabe-”

(Female Knight) “Ah, yeah no that’s my bad. Didn’t mean any offense!”

The knight turned towards Ainz and smiled.

(Female Knight) “Just saying that if you spent the money to get that bad boy made, I don’t blame ya one bit! Not to mention those swords too. Jeez, you aren’t compensating for anything, are ya?”

Ainz laughed.

(Momon) “I could ask you the same thing. That blade of yours isn’t just for show, is it?”

(Female Knight) “What, you mean Thunderbrand? Hah, I bet it could kick your butt in a fight!”

Nabe frowned and was clearly getting annoyed at her gloating.

Ainz was starting to take a bit of liking to this woman. It reminded him of a player who was bragging about their gear and how hard they worked for it, daring anyone to take them on in PVP.

Thankfully, he was in a situation where testing his abilities was necessary.

(Momon) “That’s a bet I’d be willing to take.”

(Female Knight) “You’re on! It’s been a while since I’ve fought someone who looks like they can back up their talk!”

The ale was brought to Ainz. He grabbed the mug and motioned it towards the female knight.

(Momon) “Name’s Momon.”

The female knight hit Momon’s cup with hers and nodded.

(Female Knight) “Momon, eh? That’s a strange name. I’m-”

The door burst open, a blue haired woman dressed in dark green running in.

(Blue Woman) “Catherine!”

(Catherine) “Bah, hang on. Shamir, what’s going on?”

Shamir walked up to Catherine and cut in front of Ainz and Narberal.

(Shamir) “We’ve located the enemy camp, but there’s far more than we expected.”

(Catherine) “Who’s going with us?”

(Shamir) “Us, Jeralt, Alois and a few recruits. The rest of the knights are still investigating the Death Knight.”

Catherine finished the rest of her drink in a single gulp and turned to Ainz.

(Catherine) “Shame, looks like our duel’s gonna have to wait!”

Right as she was about to get up, Ainz spoke up.

(Ainz) “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to accept some help?”

(Shamir) “You a merc?”

(Ainz) “Adventurer. We’re new to the country and my friend and I are here looking for work.”

(Catherine) “Huh. Talk about convenient.”

(Shamir) “Might not get paid, that alright with you?”

Momon got up and nodded.

(Momon) “Fine by me. Let’s get going.”

Wasting no time, the four of them headed out of the inn and towards the outskirts of town.

Later...

[Non-Player Character - Overlord]

As they walked down the road, Narberal continued to frown at Catherine and Shamir.

(Momon) sigh “Nabe, is this about-”

(Nabe) “Yes it is, Loooorrrr-...ahem, Momon.”

(Momon) “We’ve been over this. Do not hold it against people if they treat me the way they do.”

(Nabe) sigh “It’s something I can never fully be comfortable with-”

(Momon) “Nabe, I brought you with me because you’ve been with me the longest out in the field. I appreciate your concern but-”

Momon stopped talking when he noticed that Catherine was slowing down a bit to walk side by side with them.

(Catherine) “So, where do you two come from?”

(Momon) “Ah, we come from the Alliance.”

(Catherine) “Any house? Heard your lady friend call you a lord.”

Ainz internally sighed while Nabe’s face flinched.

(Momon) “That’s something we’d rather not discuss.”

(Catherine) “Ah, I understand that. Wouldn’t wanna deal with nobles all the time myself when I can just go where I please. That freedom is nice.”

(Momon) “So what exactly are we fighting?”

(Shamir) “Bandits. Some monsters and demonic beasts started attacking nearby villages, but we managed to put them down pretty easily. Now we just have to deal with the bandits raiding the survivors. They think nothing can stop them since the knights are busy with other tasks.”

(Momon) “And who do you all work for?”

(Catherine) “Lady Rhea and the Church of Seiros. Specifically, we’re the Knights of Seiros, a division of elite warriors meant to enforce her will.”

(Momon) “Has there been any other cases of monsters near the Monastery?”

(Catherine) “Well there’s...actually, now that I think about it, I don’t think so.

Ainz and Narberal took a mental note of that. The Church appears to be keeping quiet about the residents of Nazarick being in House Isekai, and they don’t appear to be suspicious of the fact that they were the ones who made the monsters appear.

But what was a demonic beast?

Before he could ask, they met up with the rest of the knights. 

(Jeralt) “Finally you made it. The bandits are about to make their move.”

(Alois) “Now, let’s...Huh? Who’s this?”

(Catherine) “Momon and...Don’t think I ever caught your name, missy.”

(Nabe) “...I am Nabe.”

(Shamir) “We’ll see if he and his friend are useful or not.”

(Jeralt) “Name’s Jeralt. Captain of the Knights of Seiros.”

(Alois) “Alois, Jeralt’s second in command!”

Upon first glance, they all appeared to be seasoned veterans. Even though their tone was mostly casual and informal, the way they held themselves and their weapons showed that they knew what they were doing.

(Momon) “It is a pleasure to meet you all.”

Everyone turned to Narberal who didn’t say anything at first.

With a slight nudge, Narberal turned to them.

(Nabe) “Let’s get this over with.”

Ainz shook his head.

(Momon) “Come on, at least say hello.”

(Alois) “Hah, I see your daughter is a bit shy!”

Narberal’s calm face exploded into a panic.

“DAUGHTER?! THERE IS NO ONE THAT COULD BE LORD MOMON’S CHILD, AND EVEN IF HE WEDDED, I COULDN’T-”

“H-HEY! Watch what you’re saying!”

“...Ah...”

“...”

Alois burst out laughing while everyone else sighed.

(Alois) “Ah, so you aren’t related! Apologies, the way you two talked made me think otherwise!”

(Momon) “Pay it no mind, but please do not try to fluster her like that.”

Jeralt hit Alois in the back of the head.

(Alois) “AH!”

(Jeralt) “You haven’t even seen the man’s face, what made you think that they’re family to begin with?”

Well, it’s not like Alois was completely off the mark.

Ever since the rest of his guild members disappeared, Ainz did view all of Nazarick’s beings as his children. Narberal, the Pleiades, and even the Floor Guardians were his sons and daughters.

Highly dysfunctional and psychopathic sons and daughters, but that nevertheless.

(Catherine) “We’re almost right on top of their camp. We should get moving, already.”

(Jeralt) “Agreed. Let’s go.”

As the knights made their way, Naberal turned to Ainz.

Her face was still blushing, and it looked like as if she were ready to cry or punch something. Most likely both.

(Momon) sigh “Don’t worry about it, okay Nabe?”

(Nabe) “Y-Yes, Momon...”

----

[As Swift As Wind - Fire Emblem: Three Houses]

UNIT SELECTION:

Begin the battle?

>[Yes] No

Victory Conditions: Rout the enemy

Defeat Conditions: "Momon” or “Nabe” falls in battle.

----

[Psychological Warfare - Overlord]

The group hid behind several trees as they looked at the massive bandit camp. They had kidnapped a large amount of people, as well as their belongings.

(Momon) “Bandits...”

(Alois) “Those dastards think they can do what they want when we’re not around! We’ll show them!”

(Catherine) “I’m not going to stand by and let innocents get herded around like cattle!”

(Shamir) “Get your heads clear. We have to think of a plan, there’s far too many of them for us.”

Ainz and Narberal didn’t really care about the villagers, if they were to tell the truth.

Ainz only joined in because it’d be a good way to find out the strength of those around here.

Even though he wasn’t using any spells and his real power, he would at least see how dangerous bandits and soldiers of this world are.

Monsters like goblins or monsters in general did not seem commonplace in this world at all, which meant there was no good way to gauge how lethal everyone is, or what their levels and experience is. RPG elements seemed absent much to his dismay.

Even if these were bandits, which are normally low level mobs, he would pay dearly if he underestimated them.

That being said, there were no other plans he could think of to accurately assess how dangerous they all were, so there’s just one thing to do now.

Brute force his way in, just like Momon would.

(Momon) “...I have an idea.”

(Jeralt) “What’d that be?”

(Momon) “They’re expecting the Knights of Seiros. They aren’t expecting someone like Nabe and I. While I distract them, you can free the villagers.”

(Alois) “No offense, but I doubt you and your big swords there could cleave through all of them.”

(Momon) “Hah, I accept your challenge!”

Ainz motioned Nabe to follow and started to walk into sight.

(Catherine) “What are you doing?!”

(Momon) “Stick to the plan.”

(Bandit) “HEY, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

The bandits attention focused on the two walking up towards the camp, alerting the rest of them and making them draw their weapons.

Ainz pulled out his twin greatswords as Nabe pulled out a broadsword.

(Momon) “Raiding towns as monsters are already attacking them? How low...”

(Bandit) “We’re doin ‘em a favor! Either live under us or die by the monsters and church! Now, I’m asking again real nice, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

(Momon) ���My name is Momon. And this is Nabe. You all would do well to remember these names.”

(Bandit) “Psh, what? You gonna “deliver justice” to us evildoers or some shit? And what’s with that getup! You’re trying a bit too hard don’t you think?”

Narberal gripped her sword tightly, wanting to kill all of them for insulting her lord.

Ainz’s head tilted to her to where only she could hear.

(Momon) “Steady your hand a bit longer. I promise you will be able to kill them to your heart’s content.”

Narberal nodded and tried to keep calm.

She then noticed that the group had finally managed to get around the bandits and cut them free.

(Nabe) “Momon-”

(Momon) “Focus on the bandits, not the villagers.”

(Bandit) “You better get out of here if you know what’s good for you...Then again, your armor looks REALLY expensive. And those swords ya got too...!”

The last of the villagers finally ran away with the recruits as their escorts.

Catherine nodded.

(Momon) “Hoho, you’re more than welcome to come and get it!”

(Bandit) “HAH, GET ‘EM BOYS!”

(Momon) “Nabe.”

[Clash - Overlord]

Nabe grinned for a moment before raising her finger to them.

“Lightning.”

A line of electricity shot out, piercing through three bandits’ chests and killing them instantly.

(Bandit) “What the hell?!”

(Bandit 2) “MAGE! TAKE HER DO-”

Three more bandits were cleaved in half as Ainz’s sword went flying through the air and stabbed the ground, shooting debris out from the impact.

One of the bandits who survived looked into the air and realized Ainz had flipped into the air, and tossed his other sword down.

When he landed, Ainz grabbed both of his swords and spun in a massive circle, cutting anyone down who was too close.

(Bandit) “FUCK! WHAT THE-”

An arrow went through his head, shot by Shamir who emerged from the trees.

Catherine and Alois charged in with their weapons cutting everyone in their way down.

Another group of bandits tried to make a run for it before being run over by Jeralt’s horse.

Narberal caught up with Ainz and cut another bandit down swiftly.

(Momon) So, looks like bandits are still weak as ever...

He turned his attention towards how Catherine and Alois were fighting. They were killing the bandits left and right, not even breaking a sweat.

Shamir’s deadly efficiency made sure every shot that was fired hit the bandit right between the eyes.

(Nabe) “MOMON!”

Ainz knew a bandit was coming from behind to slash at him. He would’ve already taken care of it, but he wanted to see just how strong these weapons were.

When the sword made contact, it bounced off and didn’t even leave a scratch.

Truth be told, he was more than a little disappointed.

The bandit slowly backed away as Ainz turned towards him.

(Momon) “Do you want to try again?”

(Bandit) “AAAH!”

Right as he turned around, he was impaled through the stomach from Narberal’s sword, which she violently kicked him off.

(Nabe) “Disgusting insect...”

Ainz then examined Narberal’s state, to see if she was struggling either.

In terms of level, Narberal was around level 60, and just meant to serve as a distraction in the tombs of Nazarick.

However there was just only a few patches of dirt and blood that got on her. She hadn’t even sustained an injury or broke a sweat.

(Momon) “Good grief, I suppose it was my mistake to expect more from bandits.”

(Nabe) “Your compassion for these humans are too great, Momon. They do not deserve it!”

(Momon) “Perhaps. Finish this up, Nabe.”

(Nabe) “Understood.”

Casting another lightning spell from her finger, she shot at a group that was heading towards Catherine and Alois, and fried them.

Their smoking bodies fell to the ground and finally there was silence.

(Catherine) “Alright, think we’re in the clear! That was some fancy moves, Momon!”

(Jeralt) “Gotta admit, you’re skilled.”

(Alois) “I’ve never seen anyone move like that! You’re incredible!”

(Shamir) “Hm. Not bad.”

Narberal smiled for the first time this entire trip.

(Nabe) “Of course he’s incredible.”

(Momon) “Now, now. Let’s not get too cocky. We should go find the villa-”

GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Everyone immediately turned and ran towards the source of the sound. When they finally got back on the roads, the villagers encountered a massive demonic beast.

(Jeralt) “Damn it, I thought we got rid of all of them!”

(Alois) “EVERYONE, GET BEHIND US!”

(Momon) Ah, there we go. Knew a quest would have SOME final boss if the mobs were too easy.

Getting into stance, the villagers all got behind the Knights as the beast slowly walked up.

It was some form of a giant wolf, with the fangs almost as large as a man.

Ainz and Narberal tried to buff themselves with passive skills but where shocked when nothing they said was activating it.

(Nabe) “M-My magic...!”

(Momon) “I see, so this world took our buffs away. Meaning-”

Although his face couldn’t smile anymore, he’d have the widest one at this very moment.

[NPC Battle - Overlord]

(Momon) “WE JUST GOT TO FIGHT IT THE OLD FASHIONED WAY!”

Ainz and Narberal charged first, followed by Catherine and Jeralt. Shamir and Alois stayed back to ensure that the civilians would be safe, letting Shamir fire off arrows.

The wolf swiped its paws at Ainz, barely blocking in time with his dual greatswords. The arrows seemed to bounce off the demonic beast when it made contact.

(Shamir) “Damn it!”

It pushed him back, almost making him lose balance with the force behind it.

Retaliating, Ainz swung his sword at the hide of the wolf, but it was reflected off.

Narberal casted another lightning attack and fired it head on.

The demonic beast was damaged, although not by much.

It tried swinging at Narberal next, but Catherine parried its claws in time, using Thunderbrand to cut parts of the claws off, making it roar in pain.

Wasting no time, Narberal quickly put distance between her and the beast.

Jeralt’s horse ran by and he threw a javelin into that arm, making it roar even louder.

The demonic beast spun around, using its tail to knock everyone back.

Ainz was caught in the attack and flew backwards. When he got up, he started laughing.

(Ainz) “I FORGOT WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO FEEL PAIN!”

While it wasn’t nearly as powerful as he was expecting the name “demonic-beast” to be, it still posed a bit of a threat if he was way too careless.

However, it’s been so long since anything had actually managed to hurt him. Even though his specialty wasn’t swordfighting, it got his adrenaline going once more.

It was a feeling a player finding an enemy in a video game that could actually pose as a fun boss battle.

Narberal had a mixed expression on her face. A half scowl and smile. She was happy he was enjoying himself, but at the same time it was her duty to protect him.

Ainz went into the fray once more, trading blows with the surprisingly agile demonic beast.

The two traded and dodged their attacks, seemingly being at equal skill.

Catherine and Jeralt got back up and saw Ainz single-handedly taking it on.

(Catherine) “Jeez, what is he?!”

(Jeralt) “I don’t believe it!”

Finally landing a score that struck home, one of Ainz’s greatswords got stuck into the uninjured arm of the demonic beast, making it howl out.

(Momon) “Catherine!”

Catherine managed to shake off her awe and swiped at the tail of the demonic beast, cutting it cleanly off.

Jeralt used his lance to stab the beast in the leg, making the lance come out the other side and ensuring it can’t move.

Shamir finally got into a good position in the trees and let an arrow loose, the arrow going into its eye.

Alois used his axe to lop off the lower jaw of the demonic beast when it was staggered, finally leaving Narberal an opening.

(Nabe) “Dragon lightning!”

An even brighter line of electricity shot out of her fingers, but it quickly transformed into the shape of a dragon as it charged straight into the demonic beast, making its entire body shake.

Once it stopped, Ainz hopped into the air and dug his swords straight into its neck.

Letting go and quickly grabbing the hilts with opposite hands, he pulled them back out in a way to decapitate the beast, and let its headless body flop onto the ground. 

[Non-Player Character - Overlord]

With one final sigh, Ainz swung the blood off his blade and sheathed them on his back.

Narberal quietly sheathed her sword on her belt and stood alongside him.

(Alois) “Now THAT was even more amazing!”

(Catherine) “Show off.”

(Shamir) “Like you’re one to talk.”

(Jeralt) “That’s enough already. Let’s get these villagers home.”

Everyone nodded and made sure all the villagers were safely home. The recruits offered to protect them as they reported back to Garreg Mach until an actual guard detachment came. 

When they finally arrived back in Garreg Mach’s town, Catherine turned to the two adventurers.

(Catherine) “You’re not busy tonight, are you?”

(Momon) “I do not believe we are.”

(Catherine) “Then, how would you like to work with us? Bet you all would help out the Knights of Seiros greatly.”

(Shamir) “Hah. That’s high praise coming from her.”

(Momon) “It depends. May I speak to the leader...who is that by the way?”

(Alois) “Wow, you must really be out of the loop! The leader of the Church of Seiros is Archbishop Rhea. I’m sure she isn’t busy at the moment!”

(Momon) “Then let’s go find her. We’ll make our decision from there.”

Catherine and Alois went to speak with Rhea in private. After a few silent moments, a knight opened the door to the Hearing Chamber.

(Knight) “Her lordship wishes to see you now.”

[Gazing At Sirius - Fire Emblem: Three Houses]

Ainz nodded, and both he and Narberal went inside and found her standing in the middle.

He had seen her a couple times when every single person had their weapon pointed at them, but it didn’t seem that they knew who they were.

Knowing that she basically ruled all over Fodlan, Ainz did what his followers normally did upon seeing him.

Ainz got on knee, with his arm over it and other arm over his chest.

Narberal had a face as if someone had insulted her creator AND Ainz at the same time, but quickly did the same. It bothered her to no end, but she was going to have to suck it up.

(Rhea) “There is no need for such actions. Please, rise.”

Doing so, she smiled.

(Rhea) “I heard that you decided to help out the Knights of Seiros, even without the promise of pay?”

(Momon) “I may be an adventurer, but I would never turn away from those in need.”

(Rhea) “Such a kind heart you have, mister Momon. You have my respect and admiration. However, I cannot permit you into the Knights of Seiros with just this action alone.”

(Momon) “...I understand, my lady.”

(Rhea) “That being said, with your combat prowess impressing two of my highest in command, Catherine and Alois, I will permit this, if you choose to accept. You will fight alongside the Knights of Seiros asa mercenary. But with enough time, you may enlist in the ranks of the Knights.”

(Momon) “I accept this with the highest honor, my lady.”

(Rhea) “And what about you?”

Narberal was about ready to spit in Rhea’s face, the idea of pledging allegiance to someone else other than Ainz repulsed her to no end. But knowing the reprimand and cataclysmic setback that insult would have, she nodded.

(Nabe) “I accept this with the highest honor...my lady.”

(Rhea) “You have my gratitude. Please, rest within the Monastery. We have quarters waiting for you. Your assignments will begin soon.”

Bowing, they both left towards their quarters.

Their beds were set across from each other, but they had no real need of that. They could use the teleportation rings to go back to House Isekai’s dorms.

But for the time being, they would stay here and learn firsthand how the Knights of Seiros acts.

He was satisfied that they managed to infiltrate a bit more subtly into the Church of Seiros. It was a lot better than attempting to be a student. Done that once, no need to do that again.

Ainz felt like he didn’t need to worry about the Floor Guardian’s relations with the classmates of House Isekai as much due to prior experience with Kazuma and his group.

That being said he was quite curious about the others. Class VII, the Phantom Thieves, the Doom Slayer, all of it was quite perplexing. 

Just what kind of mess was he getting into this time?

However, he decided to not jump down that rabbit hole tonight.

There was more pressing matters to attend to.

That being Narberal.

(Momon) “Naberal Gamma.”

Hearing his voice say her name in that angry of a tone sent shivers throughout her entire body.

And it was also the fact he used her real name.

(Narberal) “U-Uh...-”

[First Wife War - Overlord]

BAP!

(Narberal) “L-Lord Ainz?!”

(Ainz) “What was THAT back there with Rhea?”

(Narberal) “I-I’m afraid I don’t understand?”

(Ainz) “Narberal Gamma, you are aware of the face you made when I knelt, correct?”

---

---

(Ainz) “We are extremely lucky that Rhea did not mention that! Or that anyone else was in the room!”

(Narberal) “I-I apologize with all my being, Lord Ainz!”

She immediately got on her knees and was about to shout even more, but Ainz stopped her.

(Ainz) “Enough. I know you’d be willing to slit your own neck to apologize.”

(Narberal) “...Do you wa-”

(Ainz) “No, I do NOT want you to do that!” sigh

Ainz facepalmed, and then attempted to rub his temple, A. forgetting that he doesn’t have one anymore, and B. he was wearing a helmet.

(Ainz) “Refrain from making that face. Remember, we are BLENDING in.”

(Narberal) “I...I understand.”

(Ainz) “We should be safe in the Monastery. Wash yourself up and relax for a little bit before returning here. I need to make a call to Albedo.”

(Narberal) “Yes, Lord Ainz...”

Ainz could tell Nazarick’s stay in Fodlan was going to be a very long one... 

[Crazy Scary Holy Fantasy - Overlord]

Crazy Scary Holy Fantasy Akumu no arisama Do what, do what, do what you want to! Akui no souzou shitai

[mininky]

Heavy Lies the Crown - 12.5

Summary: (Y/N) has the fate of her people on her shoulders and according to a seer, the only way to save her kingdom from the bloodthirsty wolves is by giving herself to the god of the hunt.

Pairing: werewolf!Namjoon x reader

Warnings: None, but I might give you a cavity.

word count: 1.7K

Prologue Chapter one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve twelve and ½ thirteen

A/N: I haven’t edited yet so sorry in advance if you find any errors, but in honor of finally finishing my linguistics final essay from hell I wanted to share this drabble from Namjoon’s POV.

   The first time that Namjoon set eyes on you will forever be etched into his memory. He's sure that someday when he takes in his last breath the scene that will play back behind his dying eyes will be that very one. Every morning when he wakes up next to your body he sees it play, every time he takes you he sees flashes of it. The way you moved so quickly, so fiercely through the forest clearing, the way you fought back without an ounce of resignation against what you must have known was a stronger beast. The way his wolf called out to him, roaring through in a way that was more violent that carnal lust and yet softer all at the same time. The path to love started at that very moment. And sure, that could be obvious given that you were his mate...but you were human. And that had left him unsure and afraid of how his fate might tear your very existence apart until very recently.

   When Namjoon was small his mother used to hold him on his lap and tell tales of how she met his father. How they fell in love. How the moon gave each and every wolf a pair perfect to them, a union that would make one so complete that every little flaw would be filled in until they were once again whole. When his father fell in battle his mother dropped everything, the howl of her pain as she left the village to enter the field into what she knew would be her own death still plays in his nightmares sometimes. She loved his father so fully, so much, that even though she knew it meant dying she would remain by his side. Fight by his side. Die by his side. Namjoon didn't have time to dwell on the anguish that was losing his parents, he knew that they died with honor and he then had to lead in their stead.

   He cherished that at the very least they died together, that they were able to stand their last fight together before being buried together. The moon gifted them with more than soulmates, they gifted them with a love that blossomed into Namjoon, who they would often declare was the living proof of a parents love. And so Namjoon cherished everything about soulmates, but at the same time, he never rushed trying to find out who his was. He knew that when the time was right the moon would gift him with a mate of his own. One that he would cherish the way his mother and father taught him to. Purely, truly, deeply. He had just always assumed that his mate would, of course, be another werewolf. Never had he even thought that it would not only be a human but the princess of the kingdom that had essentially waged war with his people.

   While he was surprised at his wolf crying out at a human he also wasn't at the same time. How could he be when in you he saw a woman that he would have been proud to show off to his parents? He saw a fierce warrior, a woman who could best be described as resilience itself. Beautiful, intelligent, strong, determined. You were everything for him to take pride in. And even when he sometimes saw you fumble, that side of you that was plagued with silent self-doubt he just found more reason to fall in love with you. Imperfectly perfect. He always treasured his mother's words, but he understood them so well now. He felt that as your mate, or as you say your husband, his duty to you was to be the half that filled you in. The half that helped fill in those cracks, the half that gave you enough love and trust to build you up. That was his role, to be a man worthy not only of you but could grow with you and for you.

   He can also still remember the first time that he felt you, the night that he sealed his bond with you. Lust that bubbled deep in his veins, trust that wrapped its way around his heart. He swears that there is no music more beautiful than the sounds of your moans, that there is no magic more awe-inspiring than your orgasms. If he were honest, he's been with others before. It's not unusual for werewolves, there is no vow of celibacy that wolves take the way that humans do. After all, finding a mate can take a very long time and needs...especially during the full moon...tend to make it difficult to wait to have sex with just your mate. But none of them have ever captivated him the way that you did, and of course, he didn't knot with any of the others. Before sex had been a thing born of mutual needs, but with you, it went beyond that. It was almost as if sex with you was on a spiritual plane beyond the physical.

   The moment he sank his fangs in and finalized the bond his wolf sang through him, and when he could hear your own soul call out to his he knew right then why his mother ran onto the battlefield that day. He would do the same for you. His wishes now were rather simple. Perhaps it's imprudent of him as the alpha of his pack, but he just wants you. He wants to cherish not just you, but the children you will someday have, until the last of his days. He wants his last breath to be in your arms, and he prays that if his soul is born on earth again that once again he will meet you all over again. Because you are his moon. You are love. You are trust. You are harmony. You are the resilience he needed to pick up his own broken soul and feel alive again.

   For a long time, he went through the motions. He was naturally disposed to being a good leader, having watched his father and mother his whole life. He understood what was needed, but he had previously been living just for his people. Going through the motions. And then he met you. And everything suddenly blossomed into a new tropical garden of colors. Each breath he takes feels different now. Because he knows now that no matter what you'll be right there by his side. He knows that you too would enter the battlefield for him. He's finally found that piece in his life. Not so much a missing puzzle, more like the addition necessary for growth. You keep him moving for himself, for you, for life.

   He's not sure if he'll ever be able to put it into words just how much you mean to him. He's not sure he'll ever be able to explain how when he lays in bed next to you late at night how you suddenly make the day feel complete. How when he wakes up in the morning you make his wolf sing. How when the full moon comes out all his brain can think of is you. He's talked to the others and he's found out that's actually a bit odd. They assume that it probably has something to do with the fact that you're human and therefore everything that's odd about this relationship should be chalked up to that. But he disagrees. He doesn't think it has to do with you being a human or even a witch which would place you as a being closely tied to the moon and the seasons. No, he thinks it's because his wolf knows that you are his moon.

   You see, it's normal for one to want sexual relations during the moon. Hormones and emotions run high but considering that you can't change that puts a damper on that. So normally one would just run through the forest. And he still does, but if he's honest he goes on these voyages against his wolf's wishes. He does it so he can ensure that the village is safe, that there aren't any fights or skirmishes what with the high hormones and prey drive at that time of the moon cycle. But when he had to leave you during the full moon he did so with his wolf shouting at him the entire time. He's sure his father would have a good laugh if he saw his son, the alpha and leader, curled up on the foot of his bed during the full moon. But honestly, he just wants to be by you and protect you. He can't describe it, all he can say is that when he made the journey during the full moon he felt so empty.

   Right now all of these thoughts are running through Namjoon, and he just wants to pour all of them out to you as the moonlight streams over your naked figured right next to his. But you're sleeping so soundly, so instead, he just nuzzles into your neck and breathes your scent in deep. Tomorrow morning he'll tell you. He'll try to explain all the ways he loves you when you're actually awake. And he'll tell you about how excited he is to take the next step in your journey. Because right now, as he lays there in bed with all these emotions running through his wolf is singing with pride. And he'll take you to his parents grave tomorrow. He feels it's only right to let them know too. After he tells you of course. That the family is growing. That the pride of his life is about to give him new pride, that in nine months time you'll bring to the world a new Kim. And that child will know nothing but love from you and him. He'll carry on the legacy of love that his parents left him finally.

   And someday, when Namjoon does finally take in his final breath he knows that his children will carry on the same will as his. This is his legacy. His love with you, one born in a way unexpected to all of the werewolves, will be his legacy. And it will be theirs too. He thought that there was no greater gift bestowed upon him than you, but as he lays there with this new knowledge he's jubilant to find out that you have given him once again a greater gift.  

[officialleehadan]

Blood-traitor

 Helena was not pleased.

In fact, Helena was quite thoroughly annoyed.

People who knew her well, knew that it was decidedly dangerous to annoy her. People who knew her less well generally still knew enough to be afraid.

Josef was a hulking man who used his height and size to intimidate those he underestimated. Aggression leaked off him like bad cologne, and he moved like he was anticipating a fight.

He was, in fact, almost certainly doing exactly that. Helena knew that this meeting was a poor attempt at a trap. It was why her Coven was not with her, and was, in fact, ignoring this distraction to deal with the actual attack Josef was sending against Parkside Coven.

Not that that would go well for his forces. Loraven was very old, and took his duties very seriously. An attack on his people, and on his city, was a sure way to get the elf-turned-vampire Elder properly angry. His Coven was the largest and most powerful in the city. With Helena’s Coven secretly backing his own, they were well-equipped to handle whatever first salvo Josef sent against them.

Helena’s job, and Owen’s, was to distract Josef from his own forces, and how better to do it than to have an Elder and his missing traitor walk into his trap? The Elders had all agreed that the best response to an obvious trap and a hidden attack was to break one, and destroy the other.

Helena did not care for this plan and thought they were risking a lot to take down one man, but there wasn’t much that could be done about that. Owen was under her guard, and he was probably the only person who would hold Josef’s attention long enough for Loraven to devastate the Hunter’s forces.

“So, you’re the leech elder,” Josef said, and chose to pace rather than sit. Helena was unsurprised, and settled herself comfortably. Very different from Ivan’s club, this one was all modern elegance, and had provided a rather lovely glass of wine the moment she asked. “I didn’t expect you to have the balls to face me.”

“I have no ‘balls’ at all,” Helena pointed out, and smiled as the wine colored her lips. It was precisely the color of blood, which was delightful, and also a pointed message, if he was smart enough to see it. “I might say the same of you, however.”

She held his gaze as she took another sip, just to make the point

The rage in his eyes really was deeply satisfying. Beside her, Owen snickered into his beer.

She was starting to like her hunter, despite herself. Hopefully it wouldn’t be a problem later. She wasn’t the type to take a lover for a single night, and vampire-hunter relationships could be very tricky if they weren’t handled well.

Josef fumed, and tried to loom over her, and growled when she smiled and peeked up at him through her lashes. Owen had told her all about this man and his expectations of female intelligence. She could hardly wait to show him the error of his ways.

It had been two weeks since Owen appeared in her office, and in that time, there had been deaths. Josef’s hunters were very well educated on the most vulnerable members of the Other community, and they hit those weak points with ruthless precision.

The most recent attack shook even those who knew nothing of the inhuman residents of their city. A daycare that specialized in Other children was burned to the ground with nearly thirty children inside.

Ten of them had been Wolf pups from Ivan’s pack. If he was smart, Josef would pray it was a vampire who killed him. If Ivan found him first, he would die of old age long before Ivan grew tired of torturing him.

“You,” Josef’s eyes landed on Owen, who now had a proper suit, curtesy of Helena’s tailors. He cut a very fine figure, compared to the hulking Hunter across from them. “I thought you were dead.”

Cleverly worded, considering that nearly a dozen other Hunters lingered in earshot.

“Well, that happens when a body gets pushed into a vamp pit,” Owen said causally, just a little to loud. “Thought you were rid of me, huh?”

Helena heard murmurs from the other Hunters and tucked a smile away for later. Owen was a good tactician, and hid razor-sharp intelligence under flirtation and bad jokes.

“You’re discipline problem,” Josef growled. He was angry, but near as Helena could tell, he always was. Owen was a serious threat to his authority, and he knew it. “Can’t trust you to follow orders. Looks like I judged you right. You look like a Pet.”

“I’m not one,” Owen said casually, to all appearances completely unruffled. Helena caught the faintest scent of nervousness off him, but unless there was another vampire in the room with senses like hers, no one else would know. “And it’s hard to betray a cause you never agreed to support. And, you know. You did try to murder me. That was dumb.”

“I was eliminating a security risk,” Josef said, and got a very mean smile that made Helena tense, ever so slightly. She was probably faster than anything the human could unleash, but a smile like that never boded well. “Nice of you to walk back in under your own power. I was hoping to get the full set.”

“Full set of what?” Owen asked warily, hand close enough to get his gun if Josef moved at him. “We already covered your lack of balls, and brains. You’re gonna have to be satisfied with just brawn, buddy. If the others haven’t showed up by now, they’re not gonna.”

Josef ignored him, which made Helena’s bad feeling grow much, much worse.

“Fortunately,” Josef said as if he didn’t know they were watching him. “I’m not the only one with a traitor problem.”

The door opened, and Helena sighed in disappointment to hide the way her heart began to pound.

“Wilhelm,” she said, and nodded a tight greeting. Her fellow Elder smiled darkly. “What a surprise to run into you, here.”

Not such a surprise, sadly. Wilhelm was Turned during the European witch-hunts, and had never quite gotten past his hatred of magic. All the same, she had hoped the threat to the Covens would keep him loyal.

“You’ve never been a good liar, Helena,” Wilhelm said, still smiling. She was going to rip out his throat. It would be very delightful. His blood would make her powerful enough to duel even Loraven. “To be expected, I suppose. You’re very young.”

He still thought he was older than she was. That was sweet, and a bit foolish. Perhaps she wasn’t as bad a liar as he thought.

Not that she planned to tell him that. He could go to his grave being wrong.

“Perhaps,” she said mildly, and began planning how to kill him. If he was here, now, Josef already knew about the joined Covens, and Wilhelm’s could not be trusted to stand with the rest of their kind. “But I would rather be a poor liar than a blood-traitor. Ekaterina Turned you. How dare you throw her Gift away on this human?”

In her pocket, her phone vibrated with a text, and then a second. Wilhelm’s eyes fixed on her as she casually set her wine aside. Josef watched her closely as she pulled out her phone, made a show of checking it, replying, and then tucked it away.

The attack had began and Loraven now knew to expect traitors among their own. Now it was time to do her real job in this place.

“Such a shame,” she murmured, and stood, comfortable in white silk. Owen stood at her elbow. This was a carefully-choreographed dance, and Wilhelm complicated it. “I hope she will forgive me.”

Before vampire or Hunter could stop her, she was on Wilhelm, fangs deep in his throat as she applied all of the strength she usually pretended she did not have.

Most vampires got a set of abilities upon turning. The list was wide and varied immensely between vampires. Knowing what your opponent’s abilities were could change the course of a battle in moments.

Helena curated those who knew of hers with a precision usually seen in surgeons. Even her most trusted had no idea, and she preferred it that way.

Very few looked at her and assumed that she had the full set of physical enhancements. Strength, speed, and all five senses taken as high as they could go.

Wilhelm, of course, also thought that she was Turned under Victoria’s rule.

Shy by a good four hundred years, more the fool he.

He struggled, and fought, but by the time any of the humans managed to react, he was already turning to ashes under her fangs.

Gunfire rattled around her. Owen was quick on the draw and managed to drop two of Josef’s lackeys before the big Hunter crashed into him, armed with a knife and brass knuckles.

Helena spent a precious second studying the room, and darted into action, claws out and ready. Out of six living humans in the room, five were hostile, and three were fast enough to be a problem.

Josef was occupied, but it took all her speed and precision to keep the other two from shooting her human.

They died messily, spreading crimson blood across the white silk of her suit.

The fourth human, armed with a sawed-off shotgun and a hard smirk, caught her clean in the chest.

Owen yelled her name, and took a hard blow to the ribs as sharp punishment for his distraction. Josef was taking no prisoners this time.

The blast threw her backwards. Any other vampire might have died. Massive chest trauma was usually enough to kill her kind. But Helena was an Elder, and had just drained another Elder dry. It would take more than that to slow her down.

The man with the shotgun put a rather spectacular, blood-soaked hole in the wall when she hit him so hard his ribs caved in around her hand. He was dead before he went through the wall, which was just as well.

More bullets ripped through her before she managed to drop the rest of the minions, but better her than Owen, who probably wouldn’t survive being shot more than once, of at all. The Hunters were trained well, and died well. She would give them that, some day when she was feeling more charitable towards the people who shot her.

“Time to go!” she called to Owen. Josef wasn’t down, but heavy boots on the stairs announced more backup than the two of them could handle alone. The Hunter leader would have to wait for another day “Owen!”

“Yeah!” he called back, and pulled a grenade out of his coat pocket. “Josef, fetch!”

He yanked the pin, dropped the grenade on the floor and ran for her, and the hole in the wall. Their new, and convenient exit.

The explosion ripped through the building behind them as they made it through the hole just in time.

“The car,” Helena said, and pointed as the pain of her injuries caught up to her all at once. Pain nearly made her knees give. Bullet shards tinked against the pavement as she healed and they pushed out of her skin. “We have to get out of here before they figure out what happened.”

“On it,” Owen said, and went to help her. She held him off with a raised hand. She needed blood to heal, and he smelled far too good for her to risk touching him. “Right. Car.”

+++

Blood and Passion:

White Marble

First Negotiation

Blood Summit

Blood Claim

CovenHold

Wolf Club

+++

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[theangelofvengeance]

Fox McCloud Injustice 2 Intros

If Fox McCloud was a special guest fighter for Injustice 2, this is what his intros to each fighter would look like:

(Aquaman)

Aquaman: Not smart challenging an Atlantean. Fox McCloud: What can I say? I dig a challenge. Aquaman: Let's see if you're ready. Aquaman: You're in a fight you don't understand. Fox McCloud: I'm always ready no matter what the risk is. Aquaman: Allow me to welcome you properly! Fox McCloud: Why did you side with Superman? Aquaman: I won't be judged for defending Atlantis! Fox McCloud: Either way, you'll answer for your crimes. Fox McCloud: So this is Aquaman. Aquaman: At your service. Fox McCloud: Been kissing Superman's butt lately?

(Atrocitus) Atrocitus: Unleash your anger! Fox McCloud: I will if you keep ticking me off. Atrocitus: I was hoping you'd say that. Atrocitus: The pain of loss burns you. Fox McCloud: At least my father's death gave me purpose. Atrocitus: Like so many children... ungrateful! Fox McCloud: Well, somebody's a bit moody. Atrocitus: Be silent, boy! Fox McCloud: Let's see if I can cheer you up. Fox McCloud: Can't you talk about something besides rage? Atrocitus: You don't command me, rodent! Fox McCloud: A simple "No" would've been fine, Atrocitus!

(Atom) Atom: An anthropomorphic fox? Fox McCloud: The name's Fox McCloud, Leader of StarFox. Atom: I can tell this will be mighty interesting. Atom: What could be more fun than studying physics? Fox McCloud: Don't really get your question, Atom. Atom: Let me show you what I mean. Fox McCloud: Whoa, how did you do that? Atom: Just a Ph.D with a quantum biobelt! Fox McCloud: Slippy would kill for gadgets like yours. Fox McCloud: I bet it wasn't wise to fight me. Atom: Are you saying this is going to hurt? Fox McCloud: Only if you want me to, Atom.

(Batman) Batman: It's not too late to walk away. Fox McCloud: I'm always ready, no matter what the risk is. Batman: We'll see. Batman: I'll give you something to fear. Fox McCloud: What is left to fear for me, Batman? Batman: You're about to find out. Fox McCloud: The legendary Dark Knight. Batman: I need to know what you can do. Fox McCloud: Proving people wrong is what I do. Fox McCloud: Ever seen the way I can fight? Batman: I doubt it can surprise me. Fox McCloud: Proving people wrong is what I do.

(Bane) Bane: The Leader of Star Fox. Fox McCloud: Ah, and you must be a janitor. Bane: Fine. Joke before you die. Bane: Do not trifle with me. Fox McCloud: I will if you keep ticking me off. Bane: You will make a mighty fine rug, McCloud. Fox McCloud: Shouldn't you be in a wrestling ring? Bane: You are very funny. Fox McCloud: You're going down 1-2-3, Bane. Fox McCloud: Can't understand the tubes around you. Bane: My venom will be the least of your worries. Fox McCloud: Just don't get it around me.

(Black Adam) Black Adam: Leader of Star Fox. Fox McCloud: And you must be a discount Superman. Black Adam: On his behalf, I will kill you. Black Adam: I'll lead the new Regime. Fox McCloud: Get this straight: We don't want you! Black Adam: Then dethrone me if you can. Fox McCloud: Your tyranny is unforgivable! Black Adam: My rule is strict but fair. Fox McCloud: Your wife wouldn't think so. Fox McCloud: How can you hurt so many people? Black Adam: They brought it out on themselves! Fox McCloud: You're as heartless as Andross is!

(Black Canary) Black Canary: It's a look, I'll give you that. Fox McCloud: A pilot like me is always suited for battle. Black Canary: You don't say. Black Canary: Anything you wanna discuss? Fox McCloud: You sure it's wise to fight in ladies' shoes? Black Canary: Now you're really gonna get hurt. Fox McCloud: May I have this dance, malady? Black Canary: Ladies first. How polite. Fox McCloud: Yeah, Krystal seems to think so. Fox McCloud: You'd be a great member of Star Fox. Black Canary: I can't take breathing in space. Fox McCloud: Not too late to try, Miss Canary.

(Black Lightning) Black Lightning: Space pilot, huh? Fox McCloud: I'm one of the best, Black Lightning. Black Lightning: Think you can handle a few volts? Black Lightning: So you're a fellow Social Justice Warrior? Fox McCloud: The name's Fox McCloud, leader of Star Fox. Black Lightning: Class is now in session. Fox McCloud: I bet it wasn't wise fighting me. Black Lightning: Black Lightning's not one to back down. Fox McCloud: Nor will I, Black Lightning. Fox McCloud: Wait, you draw Lightning too? Black Lightning: I've seen you met Black Adam. Fox McCloud: Like I haven't suffered enough sparks...

(Black Manta) Black Manta: I'll gut you like a fish. Fox McCloud: That blade ain't touching me. EVER. Black Manta: You'll take that pride to the grave. Black Manta: Catching you was easy. Fox McCloud: Too bad killing me won't be possible, Manta. Black Manta: That's about to be confirmed. Fox McCloud: You have quite a weird shaped head. Black Manta: This helmet is my life's work. Fox McCloud: Let's see how far I can throw it. Fox McCloud: You're lucky my crew ain't here. Black Manta: Why the hell should I know, McCloud? Fox McCloud: Because they might have to hold you down, Manta.

(Blue Beetle) Blue Beetle: Is this necessary? Fox McCloud: Batman did send me here, so... Blue Beetle: Guess that means I gotta win. Blue Beetle: Wow. Meeting you is so cool. Fox McCloud: Nice to see you're a fan of me. Blue Beetle: Mind if we get a picture after? Fox McCloud: Interesting outfit you got. Blue Beetle: With a war machine on my spine. Fox McCloud: You mean that big bug on your back? Fox McCloud: You'd be a great member of Star Fox. Blue Beetle: You really think so? Fox McCloud: Let's see if you can fly with the best.

(Brainiac) Brainiac: It is better to be collected than killed. Fox McCloud: Corneria will never be yours, Brainiac! Brainiac: That's soon to be true, McCloud. Brainiac: Facing me is a fatal error. Fox McCloud: I'm always ready, no matter what the risk is. Brainiac: Your defeat will be painful. Fox McCloud: Keep your tentacles away from me. Brainiac: Then surrender planet Corneria now. Fox McCloud: I won't let you have it, Brain-dead. Fox McCloud: You're sending me back home. Brainiac: Who are you to command me? Fox McCloud: Don't make me say it louder, Brainiac!

(Captain Cold) Captain Cold: You would've made a badass Rogue. Fox McCloud: Like I'll be a criminal with the likes of you. Captain Cold: Then get ready to be hibernated. Captain Cold: Frost warning. Fox McCloud: If I can handle the cold, I can handle you. Captain Cold: Well that changes everything. Fox McCloud: You brought a weapon to a fist fight? Captain Cold: This gun can stop the Flash. Fox McCloud: I doubt that can hurt me, Frosty. Fox McCloud: How can you hurt so many people? Captain Cold: I take what's mine and I don't apologize. Fox McCloud: Then I won't feel sorry kicking your butt.

(Catwoman) Catwoman: Think you can handle a few scars? Fox McCloud: I'm always ready, no matter what the risk is. Catwoman: Let me give you a dose of reality. Catwoman: Cats beat foxes every time. Fox McCloud: Won't be true until you beat me, Catwoman. Catwoman: Well, if that's how you wanna play this... Fox McCloud: I heard you were with the Regime. Catwoman: Everyone deserves a second chance. Fox McCloud: Sure, I'll believe it when I see it. Fox McCloud: This must be Selina Kyle. Catwoman: Fancy meeting you here, darling. Fox McCloud: Let's see you give Katt a run for her money.

(Cheetah) Cheetah: The most dangerous game of all. Fox McCloud: One that you aint never gonna win. Cheetah: I need only my claws. Cheetah: Mmmmm, I love your fur. Fox McCloud: I'm harder to skin than to kill, Minerva. Cheetah: Let me welcome you, properly. Fox McCloud: How can you hurt so many people? Cheetah: I will not weep for humanity. Fox McCloud: You're gonna cry regardless, Cheetah. Fox McCloud: You're giving me cat scratch fever already. Cheetah: You won't joke once I have your tongue. Fox McCloud: It'll be just twice as funny.

(Cyborg) Cyborg: Superman wants you gone. Fox McCloud: Why? You kiss Superman's butt with that mouth? Cyborg: That was your last chance! Cyborg: Why have you come here, McCloud? Fox McCloud: I'm stopping your boss one way or another! Cyborg: Not after I bust the hell out of you! Fox McCloud: You must be proud of your little dictator. Cyborg: Because I know we did the right thing. Fox McCloud: Having him murder a kid wasn't! Fox McCloud: I feel sorry for your father. Cyborg: It's because of him I'm like this! Fox McCloud: Maybe because what he did was an accident!

(Darkseid)

Darkseid: Fox McCloud. Fox McCloud: I don't fear you one bit, Darkseid. Darkseid: Your lack of fear displays ignorance, not bravado. Darkseid: Surrender to Darkseid or face death. Fox McCloud: I won't do neither of the kind. Darkseid: I think you're gonna reconsider, fool! Fox McCloud: How can you hurt so many people? Darkseid: I hate all creatures, great and small. Fox McCloud: Either way, you'll answer for your crimes! Fox McCloud: Should've turned back sooner. Darkseid: And why should that worry me? Fox McCloud: You're as heartless as Andross is!

(Deadshot) Deadshot: Found me a nice fox-skinned rug. Fox McCloud: I doubt those bullets will touch me. Deadshot: Ehhh... I'll try anything once. Deadshot: The hero's gig not for amateurs. Fox McCloud: I'm a full-fledged space pilot, Deadshot. Deadshot: Too bad your brain's going out of orbit. Fox McCloud: I'm guessing you're some kind of mercenary. Deadshot: That sounds about right. Fox McCloud: And here I thought Wolf was the worst. Fox McCloud: How could you hurt so many people? Deadshot: I got nothing to live for. Fox McCloud: You can't solve problems with bullets.

(Doctor Fate) Doctor Fate: Fox McCloud, leader of Star Fox. Fox McCloud: You gonna send me back to my universe? Doctor Fate: You are too late. Doctor Fate: The lords know your fate. Fox McCloud: Do I get married to Krystal or what? Doctor Fate: You will fail. Fox McCloud: Never met a fortune teller before. Doctor Fate: I gaze beyond the horizon of time. Fox McCloud: Does it involve me getting a way out of here? Fox McCloud: Batman told me you're Kent Nelson. Doctor Fate: You will speak with Nabu. Fox McCloud: So... you changed your name?

(Enchantress) June Moone: She can smell death on you. Fox McCloud: Obviously you haven't met Andross yet. Enchantress: I'll end you on his behalf, McCloud. June Moone: Please, Fox... get her away from me. Fox McCloud: I'll save you even if I can, June. Enchantress: Try me, Mr. High and Mighty. Fox McCloud: You're lucky my crew ain't here. Enchantress: Are they too scared to face the torment? Fox McCloud: More like they can overcome it, Enchantress. Fox McCloud: The wicked witch of lamedom. Enchantress: Watch your tongue, mortal! Fox McCloud: Like heck I'm gonna do that.

(The Flash) The Flash: You really think you're fast enough? Fox McCloud: Won't know until you fight me, man. The Flash: Allow me to prove you wrong. The Flash: I'm the fastest man alive. Fox McCloud: The name's Fox McCloud, leader of Star Fox. The Flash: Allow me to prove you wrong. Fox McCloud: You must be the scarlet speedster. The Flash: Yeah, it's kinda my thing. Fox McCloud: Think you can beat the speed of my Arwing? Fox McCloud: I heard you were with the Regime. The Flash: Yeah, I got a lot to regret. Fox McCloud: Let's see if you can be trusted, Flash.

(Bizarro) Bizarro: Bizarro hug pet fox! Fox McCloud: Yeah... not gonna happen. Bizarro: Bizarro not like big words. Bizarro: Am you Bizarro's friend? Fox McCloud: I got no idea how to respond to that one. Bizarro: Me love friends. Fox McCloud: You Lex Luthor's kid? Bizarro: Me father's only child. Fox McCloud: Summed that up to a T, Bizarro. Fox McCloud: I can't understand what's with you. Bizarro: Me fight for lies, injustice, a-merry-can way! Fox McCloud: Yep. Definitely landed in the wrong Earth.

(Firestorm) Firestorm: Where you from again? Fox McCloud: From Planet Corneria. Why you ask? Firestorm: Wanna know where I'm kicking your ass to. Firestorm: No way you can handle these flames, Fox. Fox McCloud: I'm always ready, no matter what the risk is. Firestorm: Prepare to get burned. Fox McCloud: Not really a big fan of fire. Firestorm: Afraid you'll get burned? Fox McCloud: I don't like my tail getting singed. Fox McCloud: I bet it wasn't wise fighting me. Firestorm: I'm ready to fight with fire. Fox McCloud: Don't cry when you get burned.

(Gorilla Grodd) Gorilla Grodd: Your talents could be useful. Fox McCloud: I rather be sucked through a black hole than join you. Gorilla Grodd: If you're not with me, you're dead. Gorilla Grodd: There's a place for you in the Society. Fox McCloud: Says pretty much a second-rate Andross. Gorilla Grodd: I'll roast you through an open flame, McCloud. Fox McCloud: How could you hurt so many people? Gorilla Grodd: Ending humanity is a kindness! Fox McCloud: You're as heartless as Andross is! Fox McCloud: You're lucky my crew ain't here. Gorilla Grodd: Why does that matter, McCloud? Fox McCloud: Otherwise you're getting flinged like number 2.

(Green Arrow) Green Arrow: What earth they snatch you from? Fox McCloud: From Planet Corneria. Why you ask? Green Arrow: Never exactly heard of it. Green Arrow: Well, this is gonna be good. Fox McCloud: Yep, only for me that is. Green Arrow: Geez, spoiler alert... Fox McCloud: How good are you with those arrows? Green Arrow: I know where to place my shots. Fox McCloud: Then be prepared to miss, Arrow. Fox McCloud: You'd be a great member of Star Fox. Green Arrow: I'm not stepping in the middle of that. Fox McCloud: You're right. You wouldn't handle motion sickness.

(Green Lantern) Green Lantern: Always nice to meet a fellow pilot. Fox McCloud: The name's Fox McCloud, leader of Star Fox. Green Lantern: Okay, now it's a contest. Green Lantern: I'll say it... this is awkward. Fox McCloud: Scared I'm gonna kick your butt, Lantern? Green Lantern: Like I'm gonna be frightened by some fox! Fox McCloud: Nice glow-in-the-dark wedding ring. Green Lantern: That's none of your damn business. Fox McCloud: I definitely know what I'm getting Krystal now. Fox McCloud: I heard you were with the Regime. Green Lantern: We've all made mistakes. Fox McCloud: Sure, I'll believe it when I see it.

(Grid) Grid: I can sense your hostility towards me. Fox McCloud: You're a threat to this entire world itself. Grid: The last threat you'll ever see, Fox McCloud. Grid: Why assume you fight me, McCloud? Fox McCloud: Because I've got you on my trail, Grid. Grid: No matter. The trail ends here. Fox McCloud: How could you hurt so many people? Grid: In destroying you, perhaps I will gain emotion. Fox McCloud: Honestly, you're depressing me now. Fox McCloud: You Cyborg's brother? Grid: I am Grid. The last being you will ever see. Fox McCloud: Ah, so it's a 'maybe' then.

(Harley Quinn) Harley Quinn: Aw, aren't you cute. Fox McCloud: Let me guess, was it the way that I look? Harley Quinn: That's the idea, doll. Harley Quinn: You and me? We're going. Fox McCloud: Well, yeah. That's the point, Miss Quinn. Harley Quinn: I'll show you the ropes! Fox McCloud: I bet it wasn't wise fighting me. Harley Quinn: How about slaps and tickles at ten paces? Fox McCloud: Hate to see which one hurts the worse. Fox McCloud: I can't understand what's with you. Harley Quinn: I collect toenail clippings! Fox McCloud: Ugh, didn't need to know that.

(Fox McCloud) Fox McCloud (1): Haha, very funny costume, Falco. Fox McCloud (2): I'm the real Fox McCloud. Not a faker. Fox McCloud (1): Sure, I'll believe it when I see it. Fox McCloud (1): How in the heck are we the same? Fox McCloud (2): Maybe we're cloned and didn't know about it. Fox McCloud (1): No way you're replacing me. Fox McCloud (1): Is this me from this world? Fox McCloud (2): Yeah, except Superman's more evil than Andross. Fox McCloud (1): Yep. Definitely landed in the wrong Earth.

(Donatello) Donatello: I've already figured this fight out. Fox McCloud: Me standing over you in victory? Donatello: Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. Donatello: Name's Donatello. Who are you? Fox McCloud: The Name's Fox McCloud, leader of Star Fox. Donatello: Totally need to know who that is. Fox McCloud: This'll be over before it begins. Donatello: Good luck proving that theory. Fox McCloud: Proving people wrong is what I do. Fox McCloud: This must be one of the Ninja Turtles. Donatello: And I see you're from this Star Fox group. Fox McCloud: Yep, you'll see why I am, Donatello.

(Hellboy) Hellboy: So where in the hell are you from? Fox McCloud: From Planet Corneria. Why you ask? Hellboy: That some sort of theme park or somethin'? Hellboy: Not used to fighting woodland critters. Fox McCloud: Except one that'll kick your butt? Hellboy: Well, in that case, let's do this. Fox McCloud: I don't think I've seen you before. Hellboy: The name's Hellboy, dumbass. Fox McCloud: Quite the friendly one you are. Fox McCloud: You'd be a great member of Star Fox. Hellboy: I don't think my fist can fit in the arwing. Fox McCloud: Can't hurt to try, Hellboy.

(Jay Garrick) Jay Garrick: I don't see how you plan to win. Fox McCloud: Pure speed and reflexes as always. Jay Garrick: Let me show you what the JSA can do! Jay Garrick: Can't say I never met a fox like you. Fox McCloud: I'm way more than an fox than you'll ever see. Jay Garrick: Let me show you what the JSA can do! Fox McCloud: What's with all the speedfreaks I keep meeting? Jay Garrick: This 'speedfreak' is an original, chum. Fox McCloud: Think you can beat the speed of my arwing? Fox McCloud: Should've turned back sooner. Jay Garrick: Not while I have breath on these lungs. Fox McCloud: Now that's the Star Fox spirit there!

(John Stewart) John Stewart: Think you can beat a Lantern? Fox McCloud: Both in the ground and air, Lantern. John Stewart: We'll see about that, McCloud. John Stewart: This must be the Fox McCloud I've been hearing. Fox McCloud: Hal told me you're some kind of marine. John Stewart: Today I'm your drill instructor. Fox McCloud: You're green like that other guy? John Stewart: We're part of the Green Lantern Corps, McCloud. Fox McCloud: Weird looking club you got. Fox McCloud: I bet it wasn't wise fighting me. John Stewart: A soldier does what it takes. Fox McCloud: Now that's the Star Fox spirit there!

(The Joker) The Joker: Here's a news flash: Life is a meaningless joke. Fox McCloud: Too bad you don't give them enough, Joker. The Joker: Like it matters... The Joker: You're such a cute little fox. Fox McCloud: You're looking to skin me or something? The Joker: My knife's plenty sharp enough! Fox McCloud: Is killing Metropolis what you did "fun"? The Joker: Gotta do something to amuse me, you know? Fox McCloud: You're as heartless as Andross is! Fox McCloud: Batman's told me all about you, Joker. The Joker: They call me an influencer, an icon! Fox McCloud: How about criminally sick instead?

(Leonardo) Leonardo: You got cajones taking me on, McCloud. Fox McCloud: I'm always ready, no matter what the risk is. Leonardo: Ready for a lesson in turtle power? Leonardo: You got nothing on a Ninja Turtle. Fox McCloud: And you ain't got nothing on Star Fox. Leonardo: I admit, you got me there. Fox McCloud: This must be one of the Ninja Turtles. Leonardo: And you must be Fox McCloud. Fox McCloud: Let's see if you can fly with the best. Fox McCloud: This'll be over before it begins. Leonardo: It's nothing a Ninja Turtle can't handle! Fox McCloud: Now that's the Star Fox spirit there!

(Michelangelo) Michelangelo: This is gonna be totally wicked. Fox McCloud: I doubt you can beat me with that shell. Michelangelo: Only if you got cheat codes, dude. Michelangelo: Let's skip this, I'm starving. Fox McCloud: Only when the fight's over, Michelangelo. Michelangelo: Almost got away with that one. Fox McCloud: This must be one of the Ninja Turtles. Michelangelo: I'll show you why I am, Fox. Fox McCloud: Now that's the Star Fox spirit there! Fox McCloud: Should've turned back sooner. Michelangelo: Seems like a really bad idea, bro. Fox McCloud: Then I won't feel sorry kicking your butt.

(Mr. Freeze) Mr. Freeze: You are a rare specimen. Fox McCloud: Why on earth would you ask me that, Freeze? Mr. Freeze: I would gladly trade your life for Nora's. Mr. Freeze: My gun will freeze you in your tracks. Fox McCloud: If I can handle the cold, I can handle you. Mr. Freeze: That assumption is flawed. Fox McCloud: You're coming with me, Mr. Freeze. Mr. Freeze: Hell would freeze over first. Fox McCloud: Sounds like a good idea, cueball. Fox McCloud: How could you hurt so many people? Mr. Freeze: I'm a scientist, not a psychopath! Fox McCloud: Either way, you'll answer for your crimes!

(Poison Ivy) Poison Ivy: You're an abomination. Fox McCloud: You're a threat to this entire world itself. Poison Ivy: That's not what the plants tell me. Poison Ivy: One kiss for luck? Fox McCloud: Sorry, that's Krystal's job, Ivy. Poison Ivy: She won't notice. Fox McCloud: You're a disgrace to mother nature. Poison Ivy: I would die for the green. Fox McCloud: Please, even THEY don't want you. Fox McCloud: You really are that beautiful. Poison Ivy: Really? And what do you see? Fox McCloud: Back at Arkham where you belong.

(Power Girl) Power Girl: I don't believe we've met. Fox McCloud: The name's Fox McCloud, leader of Star Fox. Power Girl: Let me show you what I'm made of. Power Girl: I'm not comfortable fighting pets. Fox McCloud: I'll show you I'm no 'pet', Power Girl. Power Girl: Sure, that's one way of putting it. Fox McCloud: You'd be a great member of Star Fox. Power Girl: I'm perfectly fine flying without a plane. Fox McCloud: Hope you can handle the pressure. Fox McCloud: I'll bet it wasn't wise fighting me. Power Girl: You can't handle this much woman! Fox McCloud: Trust me, you should meet Krystal.

(Raiden) Raiden: Will you aid in this realm's protection? Fox McCloud: I'm always ready, no matter what the risk is. Raiden: Then show me your skills, Fox McCloud. Raiden: I am Raiden, God of Thunder. Fox McCloud: The name's Fox McCloud, leader of Star Fox. Raiden: We must prepare ourselves in Kombat. Fox McCloud: Whoa. Who must this be? Raiden: You speak with Raiden, protector of Earthrealm. Fox McCloud: That's one heck of a catchy title. Fox McCloud: Why are we meeting here, Raiden? Raiden: You would need allies in the coming war. Fox McCloud: Good thing I got Star Fox with me then.

(Raphael) Raphael: Ever tried a smackdown by Raphael? Fox McCloud: Please, even Falco would beat ya. Raphael: Prove it, fool. Raphael: You're going to Beatdown City. Fox McCloud: Heh, good luck taking me there. Raphael: Only because you wanted to, Fox. Fox McCloud: I can't understand what's with you. Raphael: I run a delivery service... for pain! Fox McCloud: Can't imagine what that feels like. Fox McCloud: This must be one of the Ninja Turtles. Raphael: I'm the toughest one of the bunch. Fox McCloud: Now that's the Star Fox spirit there!

(Red Hood) Red Hood: I'm not with the Regime. Fox McCloud: Well, if you say so then... Red Hood: Please, you act like I'm lying, McCloud! Red Hood: Call me the Red Hood. Fox McCloud: You sure you're the one with a sock on his head? Red Hood: You know what? Just call me Jason. Fox McCloud: I can't understand what's with you. Red Hood: I'm the cure for a sick, sad world. Fox McCloud: You can't solve problems with bullets. Fox McCloud: Like the beanie mask you got there. Red Hood: Glad to know you approve, McCloud. Fox McCloud: Too bad your kind of justice says otherwise.

(Reverse Flash) Reverse Flash: Exactly what is your plan here? Fox McCloud: I'm here to end this nightmare you caused! Reverse Flash: Which is why you're dead fox meat! Reverse Flash: Who the hell are you supposed to be? Fox McCloud: The name's Fox McCloud, leader of Star Fox. Reverse Flash: To me, you're another victim! Fox McCloud: You're lucky my crew ain't here. Reverse Flash: They still won't catch me, McCloud. Fox McCloud: Care to reconsider that, Mr. Thawne? Fox McCloud: Reverse Flash, huh? Reverse Flash: Finally, someone with backbone. Fox McCloud: It's too bad you don't have one.

(Robin) Robin: You could've been part of the solution. Fox McCloud: Why? You still kiss Superman's butt with that mouth? Robin: You're headed for the cemetery! Robin: Got a problem? Fox McCloud: Listening to butthurt crybabies like you. Robin: You have poor taste in heroes. Fox McCloud: I feel sorry for your father. Robin: Because he was spectacularly wrong! Fox McCloud: So was killing Batman's adopted son. Fox McCloud: You remind me a bit like Falco. Robin: Huh... what would that be? Fox McCloud: He's less arrogant unlike you.

(Scarecrow) Scarecrow: Do you fear death? Fox McCloud: Not now. Not ever. Scarecrow: Too bad your father did. Scarecrow: Your precious Krystal looks lovely... Fox McCloud: You better not lay a hand on her or else! Scarecrow: Heh... what if I did? Fox McCloud: You'll pay for insulting my father. Scarecrow: Oooh, I'm shaking in my boots. Fox McCloud: Oh, you'll shake. But you won't like it. Fox McCloud: I'm not sure if I wanna be here. Scarecrow: Welcome to your nightmare. Fox McCloud: I think I'm not gonna like it.

(Starfire) Starfire: Every battle is an adventure. Fox McCloud: Good thing I live for the adventure. Starfire: I'll honor you with my skills, McCloud. Starfire: How do you cope with darkness? Fox McCloud: A pilot like me doesn't fear nothing. Starfire: Grayson would have liked you. Fox McCloud: This'll be over before it begins. Starfire: How do I know you're a worthy warrior? Fox McCloud: You should've saw me beat Andross. Fox McCloud: You really are that beautiful. Starfire: I'm glad you appreciate my beauty. Fox McCloud: I'll try not to mess you up too bad.

(Sub-Zero) Sub-Zero: You may retreat with no dishonor. Fox McCloud: If I can handle the cold, I can handle you. Sub-Zero: I respect your bravery. Sub-Zero: A grandmaster's respect must be earned. Fox McCloud: Good thing our crew fights for respect. Sub-Zero: Then show me why, Fox McCloud. Fox McCloud: Why in the heck are we here? Sub-Zero: Only bloodshed will save this realm. Fox McCloud: Can't imagine what that feels like. Fox McCloud: Whoa. Who must this be? Sub-Zero: I am Sub-Zero, grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. Fox McCloud: For once, I thought someone turned on the AC.

(Supergirl) Supergirl: I mean you no harm. Fox McCloud: Than how come your cousin harms innocents? Supergirl: Kal didn't set the best example. Supergirl: Don't ask me to go easy on you. Fox McCloud: Good thing I didn't ask, Supergirl. Supergirl: Don't say I warned you, Fox. Fox McCloud: Superman's not who you think. Supergirl: There's still good in him. Fox McCloud: Is being a dictator considered good? Fox McCloud: You must be proud of your little dictator. Supergirl: Kal can still change his ways, McCloud. Fox McCloud: That's no excuse for what he's done.

(Superman) Superman: You're leaving Earth. Now! Fox McCloud: I'll leave after you're locked up for good, Superman. Superman: You can try. Superman: Why are you on my Earth? Fox McCloud: I'm here to end this nightmare you caused! Superman: Paranoid as ever, Fox. Fox McCloud: You are no hero. Superman: And what do you think I am? Fox McCloud: You're as heartless as Andross is! Fox McCloud: You poisoned this world long enough. Superman: Without me, they'd be dead, McCloud! Fox McCloud: Maybe because they were dead by your rule!

(Swamp Thing) Swamp Thing: Why have you come here? Fox McCloud: Brainiac sucked me up to this universe. Swamp Thing: Of course you would say that. Swamp Thing: Fox McCloud. Fox McCloud: You must be the guy in the vegetable bags, right? Swamp Thing: I doubt that to be true. Fox McCloud: You some sort of human tree? Swamp Thing: Disturb me at your own risk. Fox McCloud: Didn't know that would offend you. Fox McCloud: I'll be fun chopping you down. Swamp Thing: Don't mock the green, Fox McCloud. Fox McCloud: Send them my regards then.

(Vixen) Vixen: This must be the leader of Star Fox. Fox McCloud: And I assume you must be Vixen. Vixen: Intro's complete. Let's go. Vixen: Are you ready for your turn on the runway? Fox McCloud: Not sure I fit the "model" type. Vixen: There's a first time for everything, Fox. Fox McCloud: Did Batman send you here to train me? Vixen: I was gonna ask you the same question. Fox McCloud: Then let's see who's faster, Vixen. Fox McCloud: You'd be a great member of Star Fox. Vixen: Air's not really my strong suit, Fox. Fox McCloud: You're right, you wouldn't handle motion sickness.

(Wonder Woman) Wonder Woman: Drop the gun or I'll take your hand. Fox McCloud: Drop your sword and shield and I might consider it! Wonder Woman: That's not an option. Wonder Woman: You're standing down, Fox McCloud. Fox McCloud: Sorry, I don't take orders from murderers. Wonder Woman: You'll learn to see it our way. Fox McCloud: You must be proud of your little dictator. Wonder Woman: Which is why I'll restore the Regime! Fox McCloud: You're as heartless as Andross is! Fox McCloud: It's a shame you ended up this way. Wonder Woman: Just why is that, Fox? Fox McCloud: Because nobody trusts murderers like you.

So what does everybody think? Which one was your favorite quote? Let me know. Until then, peace!

[officerjennie]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Naruto Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito Characters: Uchiha Madara, Senju Hashirama, Senju Tobirama, Uzumaki Mito, Original Uchiha Character(s) Summary:

In any other situation, the frequent lulls in conversation would have been concerning. Madara was a fast burning fire, loud and grumbly, snappy, rarely so quiet, so subdued. But Hashirama knew, all too well, what he was feeling.

Or: A mission goes horribly wrong, and Madara seeks out his friend for comfort.

Perhaps Hashirama should’ve been more concerned that someone had broken into his house. As it was, however, he just found himself groaning, gently tossing the covers off. At Mito’s groggy mumbling, he gave a quick kiss to her cheek, mumbling something out himself that he hoped resembled “I’ll take care of it, go back to sleep.” She waved him off, and he stiffly stumbled out of their room, mind barely awake enough to bemoan his bones cracking.

He blinked, squinting at the lights on in his living room - lights he was positive he turned off before turning in for the night. There was also a mass of wild black hair taking up most of his sofa that was definitely new, as well as a pile of red armor just inside the doorway. Since his mind was being extra slow to spite him, it took until he saw the gunbai resting against his door to recognize who had invaded his home.

His first coherent thought was that it’s two in the morning.

His second was that the bottle Madara was clutching to his chest was his good sake.

His third thought, which quickly overrode the other two, was that Madara had been due back from his mission two weeks ago. That one woke him up enough to recognize the situation for what it was.

Having a strong suspicion it was going to be a long night - morning? Hashirama wandered into the kitchen, making himself a strong cup of coffee before heading back to his best friend, seating himself on a cushion right in front of the couch.

After half a cup of black sludge, just the way he liked it, and several minutes of eying the Uchiha’s back, Hashirama finally spoke up. “Wanna talk about it?”

Madara’s usual gruff voice was strangely quiet when he simply said no - likewise he sounded oddly sober, considering the nearly empty sake bottle in his hands.

Hashirama sighed inaudibly, deciding to busy himself with a book - a fantasy novel Tobira had picked up for him, one about the kami and nature spirits, truly fascinating stuff - knowing that pestering his friend wouldn’t do any good.

It was another hour, and several thrilling chapters later, before Madara started talking, his back still turned to his friend, voice slightly muffled by the soft back of the couch.

“It was his first mission outside the village. It should’ve been simple - it was supposed to be. And I…” Madara swallowed heavily, then fell silent once more.

Hashirama put his book down, folding the corner of his page in the way that made his otouto want to rip his hair out. He turned to the clearly distraught man behind him, clearing his throat and making sure to put just enough authority in his voice to allow the Uchiha situational distance. “I’ll need a full mission report, Madara.”

The man twitched, seeming to consider something, before exhaling deeply and sitting up, putting the sake on the kotatsu before beginning his report.

Being the Hokage, Hashirama did his best to listen impassively as his friend spoke. He had taken a younger Uchiha - Saito-kun, if the brunet remembered correctly - on a routine courier mission on the eastern border of Fire Country. The mission itself had gone just fine, completed a day ahead of schedule, scrolls reaching their destination with no problem.

As they were headed back, however, was where they ran into trouble.

“I’ve never seen Kumo troupes this far east.” His voice had turned grim, the ease of routine reporting fading away as his coal gaze turned distant. “They were trained well, warriors without a doubt. Against that many soldiers…”

He trailed off. After a few minutes of staring into the middle distance, it was clear to Hashirama that he wasn’t going to start back on his own. The Senju fidgeted a bit, pursing his lips - he was going to sound like an ass no matter how he asked this, he knew, but it was literally his job to know.

“Did he fall in battle?”

The huffs of laughter he received were both surprising and lacking any humor. “If only. That would’ve been better.” His voice was quiet, near indiscernible at the end, before he cleared his throat and continued. Both men pretended not to notice how full his eyes were, how strained his voice sounded.

On a normal day, Madara would have had no problem taking on a platoon of Kumo soldiers - even as skilled as they were, even as numerous. But he was preoccupied watching his companion, and injured from a mission earlier that week; injuries that weren’t life threatening perhaps, and easily ignored during a courier mission, but a hassle to deal with in an actual battle.

Half the group had retreated mid-battle, leaving the rest to fall by Madara’s gunbai. It took longer than usual, but he felled them nonetheless, no new wounds to show for it.

When he turned around to check on his kin, he realized his error.

“It took a week to track them, all the way to Kumo,” his voice was low, the calm tone doing nothing to fool either of them. It was laced with sorrow and guilt. He allowed his head to hand forward, black mane falling to obscure his face. “I…I could barely recognize what they’d left of him…”

After a short pause, he cleared his throat, straightening his back up, doing his best to keep his tone professional. “I don’t know how much information they got from him, but he knew little to begin with. His clearance level was nonexistent, and his position within the clan was low.” He added, as an afterthought, “Though he had yet to awaken the sharingan, I managed to secure his eyes after four days of searching.”

A pregnant silence between them. Just as Hashirama was about to speak, Madara took a deep, shaky breath, pushing ink-black hair out of his face. He didn’t bother to hide the hurt in his voice. “He looked so much like Jiro.”

To hear that name was more than a little shocking. Hashirama had heard it only once before, years ago - Madara rarely brought up his late siblings, the wounds still fresh to all who had lost loved ones in the war. He watched the Uchiha curl back onto his side, wild black locks once more being the prominent view.

“Have you told his family yet?”

In any other situation, the frequent lulls in conversation would have been concerning. Madara was a fast burning fire, loud and grumbly, snappy, rarely so quiet, so subdued. But Hashirama knew, all too well, what he was feeling.

“Hitomi-san didn’t want him to fight. Didn’t want him to serve and die like his father had.” Madara turned just enough to face him, meeting his gaze for the first time that night. “How do I tell her, Hashi? How do I look her in the eye, and tell her I failed him?”

Hashirama studied the coal eyes, keeping his gaze steady, voice calm and sincere. “We failed her.”

“We?” A small frown, eyebrows crunching together. Hashirama gave him a sad smile.

“I promised an end to pointless bloodshed, to small graves. I failed her, just as much as you did.” He patted his friend’s shoulder, resting his hand there, squeezing ever so slightly. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

When Madara didn’t argue, Hashirama stood up, reaching out and pulling his friend up with him. “We’ll tell her in the morning. Come on, you need some rest. You look awful.” Madara just nodded wearily, allowing himself to be lead down the hallway - but making sure to turn off the lights as they went.

Tobirama honestly wasn’t that surprised to wake up to his brother crawling into his futon with him, used to it after literal decades of living with the Senju’s notorious leech. He was, however, a least a little shocked to have the Uchiha hedgehog shoved against his side. But, after a moment of blinking groggily at the dark invading blobs, he just closed his eyes and cuddled up to the warmth, deciding it was still much too early to bother caring.

Madara fell asleep quickly enough, sandwiched between the two Senju brothers. He was more than happy to forget his troubles until the sun came up.

[mst3kproject]

517: Beginning of the End

When I think of the kind of movie that belonged on MST3K, Beginning of the End checks all the boxes: it’s got a silly premise, a lousy script, bad acting, laughable special effects, obvious stock footage all over the place, continuity errors galore… and of course, Bert I. Gordon, the garbage king of bug movies!  I couldn’t possibly ask for more, whether I’m watching with Mike and the bots or all on my lonesome.

Somehow the town of Ludlow, deep in the mountains of Illinois (this movie takes place in an alternate universe), has been utterly destroyed overnight!  Reporter Audrey Aimes takes up the story and it leads her to a lab where Dr. Ed Wainwright and Dr. Frank Johnson are using radiation to grow giant vegetables.  Turns out, a swarm of locusts ate some of the super-crops, causing them to grow to enormous size, and now they’re on the move looking for prey!  Will the government be forced to nuke Chicago in order to destroy them, or can Wainwright and Aimes find another way before it’s too late?

Wikipedia has far more information on how they worked with the insects in this movie than I ever wanted to know.  Apparently Gordon bought a box of grasshoppers from Texas, after some poor bastard from the Department of Agriculture carefully went through all two hundred or so to make sure they were all males and therefore couldn’t breed.  Then I guess somebody forgot to feed the bugs on their way to California, because they ate each other.  The reason you never see more than a handful in any given shot, despite the characters talking about swarms of the things, is because those were the battle-scarred survivors.

The idea of growing giant food in order to end world hunger is something I’ve seen in a couple of different movies from this era, and it always makes me snicker a little.  For one thing, it’s misguided: people don’t starve because there’s not enough food, but because either they can’t afford it, or it can’t get to them.  For another, it’s monstrously impractical: what are you going to do with a tomato that looks like it should be sitting outside a Target?  How will you transport it?  What will you make with it?  What happens to the leftovers?

My theory is that Wainwright said ‘end world hunger’ in order to secure funding – his actual motive is simply to grow bigger tomatoes, perhaps to show up some neighbor who took home a prize at the county fair every year and then gloated about it, no matter how hard the Wainwright family worked on their garden.  I like this idea because it lets me picture Peter Graves bent over a Mad Scientist Kool-Aid Bar, muttering things like, “I’ll show you, Mr. Williams.  I’ll show you.”

Leo G. Carroll, on the other hand, just really liked tarantulas and wanted one big enough to sleep at the foot of the bed.

Time to talk about the actual movie, though.  It’s got a number of things in it that I really like.  For one, there’s no drawing out of the ‘nobody believes in the giant grasshoppers’ thing.  In a lot of movies, the soldiers sent to investigate the grain elevator would have found nothing at all.  In The Beginning of the End, they encounter giant insects almost right away, saving us from a lot of pointless dawdling around.  I can think of half a dozen movies that would have done well to follow this example!  Their plan to destroy the giant bugs is pleasantly free of technobabble or bullshit like ‘mesonic atoms’, though I would dearly like to know how they actually captured that giant grasshopper and got it into the building.  The script also gets around the problem of a monster that can easily be heard coming by establishing that victim Dr. Johnson is deaf.  No Tiptoeing Tyrannosaur Syndrome here!

Furthermore, both the disabled Johnson and the woman-in-a-man’s-job Aimes are mostly treated with respect – even the military men standing in Aimes’ way remark on how she’s at the top of her field.  Captain Parker invites her to hang around because he trusts her to make the army look good in a situation where they could easily be accused of shady dealing and coverup.  Johnson and Wainwright have their own separate areas of expertise and each pays attention to what is appropriate for his, and Johnson’s disability never gets in the way of his job.  The dialogue implies that Wainwright went out and learned sign language just so he could continue working with Johnson after his accident, which speaks eloquently to the depth of their bond without any clunky lines about how ‘he’s also my best friend’.

The mental image I described above, of Graves muttering over his revenge tomatoes, sounds pretty mad-sciencey, doesn’t it?  That’s another kind of neat thing Beginning of the End has going on – the character of Ed Wainwright actually fits the part of mad scientist very well.  He’s a man working in secret in the middle of nowhere with a disabled assistant.  They Tamper in God’s Domain, creating things nature never intended, which escape their control and run off to break stuff.  That could be a description of Victor Frankenstein, in his lonely castle making a monster with Igor the hunchback!  Beginning of the End tones everything in the scenario down from the gothic to the everyday, the castle to a garden shed and so forth, but all the elements are still present, and nobody is more aware of this than Wainwright himself.  When asked if he ‘bred’ the locusts, he replies, “in a sense, I did.”

The difference is in how Wainwright responds to the monsters he has created.  Dr. Frankenstein is so horrified by what he has made that he disavows all responsibility for it.  Wainwright, on the other hand, immediately steps up and takes responsibility.  Throughout the rest of the film we see that he feels keenly responsible for the existence of the grasshoppers and for every single life they take – not only his friend and partner Dr. Johnson, but complete strangers as well.  If the army is forced to nuke Chicago, he will consider this, too, his own fault.  He stays in the city not only in the hope of finding a solution, but because he truly believes that if Chicago has to go then he deserves to go with it.

I like this idea, of a mad scientist realizing he’s a mad scientist and trying to deal with it.  It’s got a Manhattan Project, I am become Death vibe to it that could have been really interesting and relevant to the 50’s Atomic Age zeitgeist.  Sadly, I think it comes far more out of how Graves plays the character than how Fred Freiburger and Lester Gorn wrote him.  The biggest problem is that none of the other characters recognize Wainwright’s self-destructive guilt for what it is.  Aimes, who is supposed to have fallen in love with him, offers to stay in Chicago at his side until the bitter end – I think this is supposed to be a romantic ‘die-in-each-other’s-arms’ gesture, except that mutual suicide is not romantic and a far more caring and natural thing to do would be to find this man a therapist!

What Bert I. Gordon himself actually seems to have been trying to accomplish was adapting H. G. Well’s The Food of the Gods and How it Came to Earth.  I suspect this was Gordon’s favourite book – he would use it for inspiration again in 1965’s Village of the Giants and 1976’s Food of the Gods.  In the book, scientists create a ‘superfood’ that causes anything that consumes it to grow to six or seven times normal size – unfortunately, this effect is passed on to anything that eats the giant animals and plants, and so forth.  Wells’ book was social satire, exploring the problems created by unchecked population growth in Victorian England.  Gordon, however, is much more interested in the story's relatively minor motif of an infestation of giant pests, and in his favourite bit of movie magic, making small things look big.

Beginning of the End does note that the grasshoppers aren’t the first bug to get into the experimental farm, and this makes me wonder if he had a series of sequels planned.  If so, it’s a pity he didn’t get to make them.  I would give blood to see that giant snail movie.

As an attempt at a good movie, Beginning of the End tries some interesting things and even though it fails you can see enough of the outlines to have an idea what it was getting at.  As a bad movie, it succeeds spectacularly!  Despite what Dr. Forrester said about it picking up just before the end, it’s not badly-paced.  The opening sequence with the destruction of Ludlow tries to create a sense of mystery, and once the clues are lined up it doesn’t waste time on people not believing in what the audience has already seen.  There’s lots of grasshopper action and it’s all appealingly ridiculous.  The one that wanders off the side of a building into empty space is a classic, but there’s also that ludicrous moment when the grasshopper appears to be spying on the woman who just got out of the shower.  Nor can we forget poor Dr. Johnson trying to scream as the giant bugs close in on him!

Beginning of the End is everything I enjoy about Bert I. Gordon movies.  It’s made with love, by people who are terribly proud of what they’ve created even if it really didn’t amount to much.  I honestly don’t think Gordon cared whether his movies got good reviews just so long as they entertained people.  Some filmmakers whose work as featured on MST3K, like Joe Don Baker or Sandy Frank, were bitter about it for years, but I suspect Gordon absolutely loved that the show brought his work to a bigger audience.  I really need to get on with seeing more of his stuff for Episodes that Never Were, and I hope it features in Season 12, as well.

[ceruszael]

Absence

“You’re always busy.”

“So, you’ve been traveling then?”

“I miss our time standing outside the Embassy.”

It was true; Ceruszael had been largely absent of late. Or rather, absent from House Holt and its myriad bannerman. The fallout after the Legion’s defeat and Argus’ banishment from Azeroth’s skies offered a momentary respite amidst endless conflict. Naturally, the void had swiftly been filled. As more and more mercenaries and loyalists to either faction either flooded south to Silithus or began stockpiling arms and armor for the next battle, Ceruszael took a different approach. He could have returned to Acherus. Mograine and the Horsemen all but reigned there, and doubtless would dictate the actions of the Ebon Blade. Whether as jailors or generals, that was yet to be determined. He could have thrown himself fully behind his duties as Castellan of House Holt. One meeting with the new Marshal had already seen him exercise authority in dispatching the living to fight.

To die.

There was necessity in the task, but it was largely a distraction. He was uncertain if any among the House, even those Acherans who fought for Holt colors or others who considered themselves close to Ceruszael, knew the depths of his mind. How truly detached he felt from most of the events and people around him. That it was difficult to relate to them remained an understatement. How could one relate to another when they were so fundamentally different? No rest. No respite. No nourishment from food or drink. No fatigue from physical exertion. All day and through the night, he was aware. It should have been mentally taxing, but even this had changed. He neither grew weary nor did his thoughts become muddled, but the price remained. Its true nature remained hidden, though he suspected madness and denial to be the eventual end to that path. Presuming he had not already made too many strides down it.

No, Ceruszael’s focus was elsewhere. He needed… reflection. Insight. Such that the living could not provide, nor however would the damned bound to flesh. Walking among the living would ever impart their flaws, even on those who had seen the end of their cycle. Doubtless the Frozen Throne still had supplicants worth conversing with, but he had made a decision upon liberation to keep distance from the Lich King’s dominion. Thus the path remaining was to seek that insight himself. Frequent forays into the Shadowlands had become a dangerous gambit. The undead, truly, belonged there about as much as they did walking Azeroth’s surface. So Ceruszael needed a way to access that realm’s knowledge without traveling there directly. A window. Controlled, maintained, and stable. Enough spellcraft involved travel to and from the Shadowlands, or channeling its energies. Its myriad passageways allowed his travel via Death Gates. Adapting all of this had been his primary concern these past months. The Legion had given him more – from necrolytes and lesser dreadlords – for they had seen undeath on a thousand worlds over. One truth became abundantly clear; Ceruszael needed a medium and location from which to operate.

Both aspects received substantial research time. The former needed to be receptive to necromantic and shadow magics, moldable and conductive. Initially he had investigated the Necropoli of the Scourge, as well as Icecrown itself. These were largely materials chosen for durability, utilized for war and animated by vast soul engines. Then, more delicate instruments were considered. Blood orbs, scrying mirrors, and other elaborate tools of dark spellcraft. A merging of reagents and architectural practices would be required. Innovation, as well. At length, and after trial and error, Ceruszael felt confident he had found a usable substance. Grave dust from the burial of magically attuned individuals mingled with powdered Scourgestones, condensed and subjected to the roiling soulflame and select magics of a runeforge, created a uniquely capable necromantic attuned building material. A black, almost featureless stone-like substance which gave an eerie spectral tint to any light it reflected. The question remained; where to put it?

As it turned out, he didn’t need to go far. Deadwind Pass has long been inert to the activities around it. Only its southern end saw any travel, and even then activity among the Violet Eye had lessened. Though Karazhan had become somewhat of a focal point during the Legion invasion of Azeroth, once they had been pressed back to Argus it was again populated merely a handful of Dalarani guardians and intrepid scholars. Among the living, in any case. When one peered through the veil they saw the truth of the matter. So much death suffused the region. Spectres wafted in and out of solid rock, flickering between the realm of the dead and the living. More corporeal creatures gathered near Karazhan, but these were monitored and disposed of by the Violet Eye. Armed with such knowledge, Ceruszael traveled to the northernmost lip of the great ravine which split the Pass lengthwise. It was here, he began his work. Here, he laid the foundation for the structure from which he would delve the depths of death as he had never before been able. There was neither a shortage of bones to raise nor spirits to bind to them, not so soon after a war nor ever here in Deadwind. With supplies scavenged from warzones against the Legion as well as requisitioned from the Ebon Hold, and mindless animated forms shambling from the earth slaved to his desire, Ceruszael began his work.

(( Tag lineup; @householt, for vague mentions @adhelin @vladimirbaustent @rinohaholt ))

[writesandramblings]

The Captain’s Secret - p.97

“Facing the Music”

A/N: This takes place during episode 14, "The War Without, the War Within."

If you’re wondering why this and the previous chapter are coming to tumblr late, it’s the abusive trolls on this site. Honestly, that person was so ridiculous and mean-spirited, I was sorely tempted to post this and the previous chapter without any readmore cuts at all just to spite them. Since I didn’t want to do that to my actual followers, I waited until the urge had passed.

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << 96 - Nowhere and Everywhere 98 - A Fate Worse Than Death >>

They were home, but they had not arrived as intended.

Nine months. That was how far they had missed their mark. They had been thrown nine months forward in time and the war they left was not the war they returned to. As the strategic display automatically updated itself with the latest battle and territory information from Federation communication relays, Saru and the bridge crew watched the map turn from blue to red and faced the grim reality of their new circumstance.

They had been gone nine months and the Klingons had won. The Federation lay almost wholly under Klingon control.

Their first order of business was to try and contact whatever remained of Starfleet, but there was no response.

The second was to assess the state of the ship. Riding the mycelial shockwave had left Discovery heavily damaged and on auxiliary power. Saru ordered all available personnel to repair assignments. Under the circumstances, they could not expect any help to come.

That left the matter of unwanted passengers. Lorca was not in sickbay as Saru, Burnham, and Georgiou expected. They found an entirely different set of patients laid out under the bright, silvery-white lights, and one very agitated, hovering lawyer who, when questioned as to the whereabouts of their former captain, said with a shrug:

"Dead."

Georgiou smirked with a mixture of satisfaction and curiosity. "Is he, now."

"Yeah, that's what happens when you're stabbed through the chest," Groves spat. The words verged on comical, but the tone was angry and bitter.

As the medical staff treated Georgiou behind the vague safety of an isolation forcefield, Saru attempted to ascertain what had happened to O'Malley and Mischkelovitz. This time Groves' explanation was less clear.

"I don’t know. He—Lorca was dying and Lalana said goodbye and Mac had—was injured, and Melly tried... something, I don't know what, and..."

When it came to lies, Groves really put all of them to shame. He had learned at a very young age how to appear convincingly flummoxed. He was the perfect combination of confusion and nerves, frustration and upset. He sounded completely unrehearsed and in the middle of processing the situation. Burnham and Saru judged him to be a complete wreck. But then, from where they were standing, he was a civilian who never should have been on the ship in the first place. They hardly expected grace under pressure from someone who lacked the experience and training to be on a mission in deep space or a ship in the midst of war. When Groves asked to leave, claiming he could no longer bear being in the room, Saru granted the request.

Neither of them realized exactly how right Lalana was about the similarities between Groves and Lorca. Like Lorca and Lalana, Groves knew the kernel of a good lie was a central truth and when he spoke the words in the moment, he truly did not know what had happened to Mischkelovitz, which made it the perfect excuse to go and find out from someone who did.

Dr. Pollard offered her medical assessment of the patients. "The colonel has lost a significant amount of blood, but he'll make a full recovery. Dr. Mischkelovitz..." Pollard took a breath. The exact nature of the issue was confusing. "It appears her implants overloaded, terminating her neural activity."

"Alert me to any changes," instructed Saru. Pollard returned to her patients. Saru addressed Burnham again. "I must inform you as to a change in our status. As of our last jump..."

Most anyone else on the ship would have been elated to learn that Discovery had returned to its home universe, but Burnham, with her Vulcan upbringing, received the information calmly and coolly, glancing at Georgiou as she processed the ramifications.

"Which makes this a very sensitive situation," Saru concluded. "I must ask, what were you thinking?"

Burnham shook her head sadly. "The truth is that I just couldn't watch her die again, Saru. I wanted to offer her more. I am sorry."

"Saving Georgiou may indeed prove to be a grave error in judgment, but, no one else could have done what you did aboard that Terran flagship. You are alive, and we are home."

The medical technician assessing Georgiou completed his examination and the forcefield lowered. "I told you I did not require assistance," was Georgiou's seething indictment as security personnel moved to surround her. She sneered at the display of supposed strength. She could have taken all four of the officers with ease, but not the many dozens that would have followed on a ship that she did not control.

"It is protocol," Saru informed her.

"Where I come from, protocol demands that I eat you," said Georgiou.

Burnham moved between Georgiou and Saru defensively. "This Kelpien is my captain."

"You let livestock command your ships? Yesterday we dined on the entrails of his brethren."

Saru's mouth tightened. Burnham, as always, was treating Saru as if he was incapable of fighting his own battles, and then there was the clear implication that Burnham had eaten at least one member of his species during her time with the Terrans. His voice was firm as he ordered, "Transport our visitor to guest quarters on deck three and confine her there now."

"Is that what I am? Your guest?"

"For now," said Saru as the white light of the transport enveloped the former emperor. He turned to Burnham.

"I'm sorry. I hoped to spare you the pain," Burnham offered.

Saru grimaced. Perhaps she had, but it still hurt to know that out of everyone Saru had ever met, the person who respected him the least was the one he had known the longest. He pushed the matter aside for the moment and addressed the room. "The presence of a Terran defector on this ship is to be regarded as classified. Its utterance will carry a penalty of treason. Is that understood?"

The chorus of ayes in the room reflected the truth. Burnham might not have moved past her perceptions of Saru from their history together, but everyone else had.

Saru returned to the bridge just as scanners picked up an approaching vessel with a Federation signature. "Hail them at once," said Saru, taking over the captain's chair from Airiam.

The hail was not returned. "Captain," said Owosekun, "its shields are up. I-it's phasers are charged and targeting."

"Shields up!" said Saru, but it was too late.

"I'm picking up incoming transporter signatures," said Rhys. "We're being boarded."

Armed figures appeared in cascades of light around the bridge. Saru's command was simultaneous to the eruption of chaos and confusion as the intruders took up positions targeting each station and hapless crewmembers withdrew their hands from their controls. "Identify yourselves!"

The boarding party was being led by a familiar face, Captain Sherak. "Hands where we can see them!" he ordered.

"I demand an explanation for this intrusion," said Saru.

"We ask the questions," Sherak warned. "Clear for transport."

Two final figures appeared on the bridge. Ambassador Sarek and Admiral Cornwell.

"Where's Captain Lorca?" Cornwell demanded. When the answer did not come quickly enough, she followed with, "Computer, initiate command level override. Authorization, Admiral Katrina Cornwell, Pi-Beta-6. Start with him."

Sarek strode towards Saru. "Ambassador, what are you doing!"

"What the times require," said Sarek, pressing his hands to Saru's face. "My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts."

Saru's jaw clicked in distress as Sarek overrode his psyche, peeling away the layers like petals on a flower and digging deep into the events of the past few days because for Discovery, that was all it had been.

"Mr. Saru is who he appears to be," Sarek concluded, but the calm Vulcan exterior broke a moment. "The Discovery has been through an inconceivable ordeal."

"Then where the hell is her commanding officer?"

Sarek turned back to Cornwell, emotionless façade restored. "Captain Lorca is dead."

Cornwell convened a meeting in the conference room with Saru, Sarek, Burnham, and Stamets. Hearing the full details of Lorca's subterfuge, Cornwell could scarcely contain her shock and anger. To think the man she had been championing, consoling, and had slept with all those months ago had been an impostor the whole time. She took her phaser, adjusted it to full, and fired on a bowl of fortune cookies sitting on the table. Her outburst concluded, they proceeded with other subjects.

The situation was as bad as it seemed. There was one spark of hope in all the calamity: Discovery had not returned from the other universe empty-handed, it had brought with it the cloak-breaking algorithm. Cornwell had immediately disseminated the algorithm to Starfleet's remaining ships, but as she explained the tactical situation to Saru, Burnham, and Stamets, she expressed the very real possibility that the cloaking algorithm had arrived far too late to make a difference.

As she listed out atrocities committed by the Klingons during their advance, the situation began to seem worse and worse. One-third of the fleet had been eradicated. Outposts, starbases, and whole colonies had been wiped from the map. Kol's death had fractured the Klingon leadership and now all twenty-four houses were acting as independent marauders, greedily engulfing Federation territory as they competed for renown and glory, making impossible any negotiation.

Cornwell's directive was clear. "Discovery will jump to Starbase 1 immediately. All evidence of your recent journey will be classified and destroyed. We cannot risk the knowledge of this alternate universe leaving the confines of Discovery."

Stamets shook his head. "We used up the last of our supply of spores to get us home and I can't jump without them."

They would have to make the journey at warp, across sectors full of Klingons.

"We will also have to dispose of Lorca's remains," said Saru.

A ripple of shock passed across Cornwell's face. "He's... he's here on Discovery?"

"His body was recovered," confirmed Saru.

"I would like to see it for myself," announced Burnham. It seemed an odd request, but Georgiou had put a kernel of doubt in the back of Burnham's mind back in sickbay. Such doubts were not easily shaken.

"Admiral?"

"Make sure it's incinerated," was all Cornwell said. Perhaps the better thing would have been to see the body herself, obtain some closure, but it felt like the only closure she needed was knowing every last trace of that impostor was gone from their universe.

When Burnham and Saru stepped into the turbolift, Stamets stepped in with them. "Deck nine," said Saru, and Stamets did not call out otherwise. It turned out they were all headed for the same destination.

"You have some business in Lab 26, lieutenant?" asked Saru.

"Just a quick word with Lalana," said Stamets.

"Who is Lalana?"

Saru and Stamets realized Burnham had never encountered the lului. "That's..." Stamets was unsure how to answer the question. A friend of Lorca's? A secret crewmember? A hitchhiker?

"She is a member of a classified research team," said Saru. "She was... acquainted with the captain."

"Are you familiar with 'Lorca's alien?'" offered Stamets, because that was what Lorca had called her when they first met and he had forgotten the actual species name. The designation did not ring any bells for Burnham.

"She is a lului," clarified Saru.

"Ah," said Burnham, "the technophobic species discovered in 2247 and designated as a Federation protectorate." She knew several other facts from the anthropological report but kept them to herself.

The Lab 26 doors did not answer to Saru's command. They had to wait for Groves to let them in, which took so long that two security personnel arrived with a gurney to move the body while they waited and Saru began to feel agitated, sensing something was up.

When the doors finally opened, Groves mumbled a vague apology about the delay, citing "O'Malley's security procedures."

The lab felt empty without Mischkelovitz. Evidence of her was everywhere—in the piles of abandoned junk and half-finished engineering projects scattered throughout the room—but there was an unsettling quietude to the place.

"He's in there," Groves told them when asked, waving his hand in the direction of Lalana's door. "But I wouldn't go in if I were you."

"We have seen dead bodies before, specialist," Saru said reassuringly. Groves only shrugged, thinking that it was their funeral.

They had seen dead bodies, but they were unprepared for what awaited them. The body lay on a couch soaked through by an enormous black stain of dried blood extending all the way to the carpet. Burnham, Saru, and Stamets recognized the dark uniform and silver-black armor worn by Lorca aboard the Charon and the familiar crop of short, brown-black hair on his head, but little else. There was a void of raw flesh and exposed bone where his face should have been. Lalana was crouched on the back of the couch above him, her tail draped down across his collar.

If they had looked closely enough, they would have noticed a distinctive, lacelike pattern of brown across the body's hands and the fact the hands were too big for the man they thought they were looking at, but no one wanted to look that closely.

"What did you do?" asked Burnham, the only one with enough presence of mind to ask the question.

"His face was my most favorite part of him, so I made it a part of me," said Lalana.

Stamets covered his mouth, feeling bile rise in the back of his throat. Beside him, Saru straightened, shocked by the idea of it. He had seen images of his own kind flayed for food, so the sight of this mutilated corpse was not wholly unfamiliar, but it felt too close to that not-so-distant reality.

Lalana could see their revulsion and confusion. She happily explained, "I know cannibalism is not favored among your species, but it is among mine. The original Captain Lorca's body was incinerated, so there was nothing for me to eat. I am very glad to have gotten the chance to amend that."

"I warned you," Groves called out from the main lab area. There was a reason he had chosen not to reenter the room.

The security officers went to work, sealing the body in a bag and lifting it onto the gurney to move to the corridor outside where it could be beamed away. Burnham left with them, having confirmed what she came for, but Saru remained in the main lab to order Groves to disable the lab's independent security protocols. Groves uncharacteristically mumbled an explanation about having coopted O'Malley's security protocols in the event of an incursion while they were under Terran threat and being unable to reset them.

The whole time, Stamets stood there wondering if he had made a mistake, but he was there because he wanted to say something important, difficult as it was after what he had just witnessed. It felt important because he was not sure anyone would say it to Lalana and in the wake of his own loss, someone ought to. "I'm sorry. I know he meant something to you."

"Thank you, Paul. You meant something to him, too. You were... he... he very much enjoyed..."

Something happened in Lalana's eyes. Her pupils quivered, dilating and constricting, as if rapidly shifting focus. She seemed to wobble on her perch. Then she pitched forward on the couch, half-rolling, half-bouncing off the cushions and slamming against the edge of the coffee table as she landed between the table and couch. Mischkelovitz's leftover tools clattered loudly against the glass surface of the table.

Stamets rushed forward, yelling for Saru, but stopped short of actually touching Lalana. Black ichor bubbled up from various spots along her body. Her tongue shifted, barely managing to produce syllables, but the translator eked out, "Too much... poison..."

Saru attempted to contact sickbay. "Unable to comply," intoned the computer.

"Probably something she ate," Groves quipped. "Don't worry, I know what to do. I'll take care of it."

"She has been poisoned," said Saru. "We must begin biological containment procedures until we have identified the contaminant. Contact the medical bay immediately, Specialist Groves."

"I'll take her there myself! Here, just let me—" Stamets blocked Groves. The black ichor, for all they knew, was toxic to the touch.

"Specialist! That was an order," Saru said in a tone that invited no further objections.

Groves stood there, staring blankly at Saru and failing to comply. The minute someone walked in with a medical tricorder, the jig was going to be up. Any scan of the room would make obvious the subterfuge. "Trust me, you don't want me to do that. Everything in existence is at stake—"

"You will comply immediately or—"

There was a bang from the wall to the left of the couch. A muffled voice came from within. "Give it up, Groves! Let me out!"

Even muffled it was clear who the voice belonged to. That voice had been barking orders at them all for months now. Stamets noticed a panel fastening tool incongruously sitting on the floor at the base of the wall and grabbed it, prying open the panel. Lorca pushed from the inside and the panel went careening away to the side, falling flat against the ground and reverberating like a gong.

"What is going on here!" exclaimed Saru.

"What the hell does it look like, Saru," said Lorca acidly as he stepped down from the alcove in the wall, rubbing his shoulder at the lingering ache of being shoved into an access space not designed for a human.

"I do not think you want me to answer that," Saru replied sharply, "as it appears we have yet again fallen prey to another of your manipulations."

"You think I did this?" asked Lorca with exaggerated incredulity. "I'm the victim here!"

"If anyone's the victim, it's your little alien friend!" exclaimed Stamets.

"She'll be fine," Lorca replied. "Poison's out. She just needs to rest."

Groves was genuinely panicked. "Everyone, stop! Shut up and listen to me!"

The one thing Groves' explanation made clear was that he believed the idea of a manifest paradox with such fervency he was willing to do almost anything to make sure no one knew Lorca was alive. Saru and Stamets listened carefully and concluded that, as uncertain as this was, there was a nonzero chance Groves was right. There was no telling what would happen if some action taken in the future destabilized the probability of an event in the past. So far, they would seem to have disrupted nothing, and the safest course of action was to make sure this remained true.

The only person who seemed not to believe Groves was Lorca. He still found the paradox theory more frustrating than believable and its only virtue from his perspective was that it provided an incentive to give him what he wanted. "Look, you're back on your feet," he said to Stamets casually, "just jump me home. No one will ever know I was alive if I'm not here. And I'll shut down the reactor on the Charon, I promise. There's no Stamets over there to turn it back on, so reality'll be safe."

It sounded like Lorca was spinning a fairytale and clearly he was missing some key facts, but Stamets' first instinct was to clear up the last part of Lorca's statement. "What happened to the other me? Did—did you kill him?" (He knew, from his dreamlike encounter with the other Stamets in the mycelial network during his period of unconsciousness, that his counterpart had no love for Lorca.)

"You wouldn't have liked him, anyway," shrugged Lorca.

"I met him. I didn't like him. The point still stands!"

"It does not matter," said Saru, "as we have no spores left and the reactor has already been destroyed."

"I couldn't jump you anywhere even if I wanted to," said Stamets curtly, making it very clear he had zero intention of doing any more jumps for Lorca.

Shocked, Lorca sat down on the couch, dried blood crunching beneath him. The bulk of his most loyal supporters and his most powerful asset had just been stripped away. His position was untenable.

A fury rose in Lorca so black it could have collapsed the room into a hole. He slammed both his fists down so hard on the coffee table everything on its surface bounced several inches into the air and objects went flying off onto the floor like engineering confetti, but the synthetic glass was too strong to break under the impact and the force traveled back up his arms. He grabbed his chest in pain. A gasp escaped, soundless but for the croak of air in his throat, and he doubled over. A moment later, he upended the table with a kick that sent it tumbling halfway to the door. Then he sat in quiet agony with his head by his knees, air hissing through his teeth.

"Where is the recording from the alternate future?" asked Saru. His ganglia itched along the back of his skull.

They searched the room, a task made harder by the scattered mess Lorca had created. The holodisc was missing. Suspicion immediately fell on Lorca, but when he turned out his pockets in furious annoyance, the only thing he had on him was Allan's tooth. (Saru wondered why Lorca had a human tooth in his pocket but decided it was better not to ask.)

"It's possible," said Groves, "that the disc vanished because we're experiencing temporal instability."

"More likely it rolled off into a corner when you threw it," Lorca sniped at Groves. He nudged Lalana's shoulder with his foot, reaching a hand down towards her.

"I wouldn't do that, she's covered in poison," Stamets advised.

Lorca's shirt was in a sorry state after everything he had been through, slashed and cut and soaked through with dried blood. "I would." He pulled it off and wrapped Lalana in it, grimacing and grunting as he lifted her up and carried her to the back wall. His chest screamed at him. It was a welcome sensation, a physical pain to match the acute disappointment he was feeling.

On a hunch, Lorca went for the biggest storage compartment and was rewarded by the sight of a sealed vat of biomimetic gel sliding out. He carefully lowered Lalana inside and stood there, frowning and shirtless, leaning with his hands on the edge of the drawer. Lalana's eyes stared blankly up at him, the pupils fully constricted.

"This is completely unacceptable," Saru admonished Groves. "We must inform the admiral. Release the control override on the lab."

"You're gonna sell me out to that Vulcan taskmaster?" asked Lorca, wiping the gel from his forearms. "After everything I've done for you?"

"I do not know where Admiral Terral is. Admiral Cornwell is aboard Discovery."

Lorca shook his head and sneered with disdain. Unbelievable. He described Cornwell in a set of entirely unflattering and unrepeatable terms, adding, "I spent two days in Klingon prison and she thinks I should be stripped of command? They've had her for weeks! The gall of it."

"It has been nine months since Admiral Cornwell was captured," corrected Saru.

Groves saw an opportunity to hit Lorca in the side of the head with a proverbial curveball and jumped on it gleefully. "Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. We're nine months in the future from when we left. We didn't just slip through two universes, we basically slipped on a banana peel through time."

Something happened none of them had ever seen before.

Lorca's face went blank.

Cornwell's arrival provided Petrellovitz a unique opportunity and created a pressing need for her to execute her plan swiftly lest the assembled pieces become scattered.

"I'll bring you out soon," were the last words she said to L'Rell as she tucked a pile of blankets into her bunk and beamed out of the brig while the guard was distracted by a strange whistling sound coming from behind a wall panel. A minor tweak to the pressure of a plasma conduit. Discovery's crew was largely young and inexperienced and easy to trick. After a few minutes of frustration, the guard called for a repair tech to come address the issue and resumed his watch of the brig cells, confident he was looking at one sleeping human and one scarily alert Klingon, none the wiser as to the deception.

Next came the call: the Klingon prisoner was being transported to the USS Khorana. Brig to brig transport, nothing to be concerned about. The guard accepted the command completely, accompanied as it was by the proper security codes authorizing the transfer.

L'Rell found herself in a cargo bay surrounded by crates of supplies. Petrellovitz was putting on a set of fabricated surgical clothing, momentarily naked and entirely concerned about it. "If you're thinking about overpowering me, know that the computer will automatically alert them to your presence if I don't supply it with the correct codeword every ten minutes. You might get to the shuttlebay, but I wouldn't count on getting much farther." She finished off her look with a surgical mask and a short blonde wig. Then she briefly conversed with the medical bay, alerting them that a specialist was coming over from the Khorana to take a look at Mischkelovitz, and beamed away.

L'Rell stood in the cargo bay and waited. Two minutes later, the light of the transporter enveloped her again.

This time, she materialized in one of the private offices off the main area of the medical bay. The lights were low, the window was set to opaque for privacy, and it was presently configured as a surgical suite.

The woman on the slab was identical to Petrellovitz in almost every regard except one. Where Petrellovitz was marked by countless scars on her face and body, the woman on the slab was entirely unblemished. Other than that, they could have been the same person, so close was the resemblance. L'Rell gazed in amazement. Now she understood Petrellovitz's previous questions. "This is... How?"

"We're clones," said Petrellovitz flatly. "I hope this is everything you need."

A wide array of surgical tools lay at L'Rell's disposal. "Yes, this will do. Computer, lights to full." Petrellovitz winced at the change.

"What is wrong with you?" asked L'Rell, noticing the reaction to the lights. She had seen that reaction before with Lorca when she was torturing him.

"Minor radiation incident," muttered Petrellovitz. "Give me her eyes if you can."

"Could you not simply fix your scars?"

The difference in quantum signatures between the two universes was not limited to inanimate objects. In time, Petrellovitz's own skin would be replaced by skin that matched this universe as her cells were naturally replaced by new ones created after ingesting this universe's food and drink, but until then, she was taking no chances. "I prefer this. It's symbolic."

L'Rell began. Every ten minutes, as promised, the computer prompted Petrellovitz for a word. "Fox" was the first one. The implants on either side of the skull provided some trouble—they seemed to be integrated into the surrounding tissue to an alarming extent—but L'Rell managed to cut around them and excised the face into a fleshy sleeve ready for transplant. The next step was to remove Petrellovitz's skin.

"Albatross," said Petrellovitz.

"Give me the words in case you lose consciousness," said L'Rell.

"I won't," promised Petrellovitz. "Do your worst."

L'Rell removed Petrellovitz's skin in record time. There was no need to do a clean job; the skin was not going to be retained. Remarkably, Petrellovitz stayed awake as L'Rell worked from back to front, administering her own local anesthetic. The sounds she occasionally made did not seem to be of pain. "Most humans would not be able to take this," noted L'Rell, reminded again of Lorca.

"There's no one else like me." It seemed an odd statement from an admitted clone. Petrellovitz stopped L'Rell only when the Klingon was about to remove the first eye. "I'm trusting you."

"And I am trusting you," replied L'Rell.

"The next word is zebra, followed by turtle and canary."

"Zebra, turtle, canary," repeated L'Rell, and repeated the words again when the computer prompted. Petrellovitz did not completely lose consciousness, but she did begin to drift in and out.

L'Rell finished the first eye. "Marvelous," said Petrellovitz, testing the function. It was a little blurry, but the bright lights in the room were no longer an issue. L'Rell moved on to the next and marveled at how easy this was when the source and target were so similar. There weren't even any tissue compatibility issues to worry about; Petrellovitz's biology accepted the transplanted material as if it were her own native biology.

Horse and rattlesnake came and went. L'Rell finished the skull work and began on the first hand, emboldened by their quick progress to take almost the whole forearm up to the elbow. She was sliding it into place when the alarm sounded.

"Forget the left hand," said Petrellovitz, keying commands into the terminal beside her. "Close up. I can buy us a few minutes."

Petrellovitz dispensed something in a hypospray. L'Rell asked what it was. "Vetroxican. Should knock me out for an hour or two. Take her." Petrellovitz shoved her double's body off the slab into L'Rell's waiting arms and took Mischkelovitz's place. "Stick to the story. We sink or swim on how well you play this."

Cornwell ordered every record of Discovery's jaunt into the mirror universe destroyed. The risk of proof escaping the ship and disrupting everything in their universe was too great.

To her surprise, someone had beaten her to the punch. All the security footage was already gone.

"That's convenient," said Cornwell darkly.

"I'm sorry, admiral," said Rhys, roughly the third time in as many minutes he had spoken those words. He was updating her as to the situation in the captain's ready room. Cornwell had set the lights higher so the room felt less like Lorca. "The system registered a power overload when we jumped. It wiped everything, main and backups."

Cornwell chewed her lip. "You're telling me this was an accidental power overload? That only wiped your security footage?"

Rhys visibly paled. "I'm sorry, admiral. That's what it looks like."

That made no sense. It reeked of sabotage. But who would want the footage wiped? And why? "What about the prisoners in the brig?" Georgiou was not the only refugee that would need to be dealt with, though she was the one less inclined to try and take over the ship.

"We just have the one, ah, Emellia Petrellovitz—"

"Hang on. What about L'Rell?"

"The Klingon? She was transferred to the Khorana."

"On whose authority!"

Somehow Rhys got paler. The authorization codes were right there on the padd in his hand. "Yours?"

"Give me that," said Cornwell, snatching the padd and glancing down at it. There it was, plain as day. The same authorization codes she had used to take command of Discovery were staring her in the face. "I didn't order that. Contact the Khorana." This took some doing—Sherak was running his ship as stealthily as possible—but they eventually made contact and Cornwell took the reply hail from the captain's chair on the bridge.

The Khorana did not have the Klingon. "There are no records of any transport," said Sherak. "We have no prisoners in our brig and all life signs are accounted for. I will check again if you require, admiral." If Sherak sounded curt, it was largely because all tempers were frayed at this point, Cornwell's included. No one in Starfleet much cared for niceties these days.

"No, Cornwell out. Lieutenant, scan and account for all life signs on this ship."

Owosekun hastened to comply and immediately identified the problem. "Admiral, the internal scanners have been compromised."

"What?"

"Attempting to bypass." The full technical explanation was too much to relay to Cornwell in the moment, but Owosekun could clearly see someone had told the computer to pull its internal scanner data not from the scanners themselves but from a set of dummy data. "It's the Mudd protocols. After Mudd took over the ship, we developed a backdoor in the event someone boarded."

There was more to the protocol than a simple command backdoor. It also let the intruder think they had control of the ship so that the officer who was actually in control could retake the ship at a moment's notice once the time was right, and allowed all authorized personnel to maintain covert communications access. All in all, Lorca had been very pleased with the idea, especially since at the time it had been keyed to revert all control to him should someone like Mudd or Cornwell come aboard.

In other words, the protocol contravened the very thing Cornwell's command codes were supposed to let her do: walk onto a starship and seize control from its captain.

"Who is in command of this ship!"

Owosekun traced the protocol. The answer to that question should have been Saru, but someone had coopted the protocol. "It's... the Brig Chess program! I'm locked out of it."

At her station, Airiam immediately launched into an investigation of her own. Owosekun was locked out, but Airiam had her personal alert node, provided to her by Groves. "I can access the program," she reported. "One moment." She sat at her engineering console, stiff and upright, appearing to do nothing. In her head, she was parsing the recent player access logs.

There was Groves, his last access right at the moment of their jump back home, but since then, he had been inactive and the only active player was... "Pet 'R,'" reported Airiam, turning to face the captain's chair. "The Terran, Petra."

"She's in the brig," Rhys said, bringing up the security feed to the main viewscreen, but immediately realized the error of his statement. From the camera angle offered by the security feed in the cell, it was clear they were looking at a pile of blankets. (There was only supposed to be a single blanket in the cell, but Petrellovitz had deemed it insufficient to craft her hoax and told the computer to provide her a couple extra.)

"Red alert," said Cornwell.

"Wait!" said Owosekun, but too late. Rhys had already triggered the alarm. For a moment, Owosekun wished Lorca were in command. Cornwell had just tipped Petrellovitz off and Lorca would have seen that from a mile away. Lorca always made it a point to mislead his enemies. His allies, too, when it came down to it. "She's in the system again."

The bridge crew sprang to life around Cornwell like a well-oiled machine. The admiral was entirely redundant in the face of their collective competency.

"Attempting to locate her access point," Owosekun declared.

"Revoking Brig Chess command access," said Airiam, mentally throwing a message to Groves as she did.

"Checking transporter logs," Bryce reported from his station.

"Dispatching security teams to shuttlebay and transporter rooms," said Rhys. "Turbolifts are locked." He reorganized the orders to have any available personnel at critical positions arm themselves in place.

"Find her!" demanded Cornwell. If anyone heard her desperate attempt at relevance, they made no sign of it.

Saru was already en route to the bridge when the red alert sounded. "Bridge," he said as he stepped into the turbolift. The doors closed and the turbolift began to move.

Then it stopped.

After spending the better part of an hour in a room whose security protocols had been coopted by a civilian and having reached a decision that same civilian did not agree with, Saru had a guess as to what was going on. "Saru to Groves! This is a red alert! Release the turbolift immediately!"

"It's not me!"

Saru could hear the panic in Groves' voice. "Saru to bridge! Status report."

Bryce was not panicked. "Sir, the Terran prisoner escaped the brig and took control of the Mudd protocols."

"Keep me updated," was Saru's order. He knew the two best people to handle that problem on the ship were Owosekun and Airiam, both of whom were currently on the bridge.

After a few minutes, Bryce reported the protocols were disabled and the turbolift resumed. Saru found the bridge fully engaged in the task at hand. He stepped into position at the science console.

"I've located them. They're in Cargo Bay 3," said Owosekun.

"Dispatching," confirmed Rhys, bringing up the security feeds. Most of the views were obstructed by rows of cargo crates stacked to the ceiling, but in one angle, L'Rell was visible pummeling a body clad in a brig-issue jumpsuit. Her fists had reduced the head to a pulp.

The security team beamed in at a safe distance from L'Rell, shouting and raising their weapons towards her. Saru watched the Klingon's shoulders rise and fall with deep breaths of exertion as she released the body and turned to face the officers, raising her hands in surrender.

"Take her to the brig," ordered Cornwell, rising from the captain's chair.

"Admiral, there is something I must speak to you about. In private," Saru said.

"I look forward to hearing it," said Cornwell joylessly. "Commander, with me."

In the turbolift, Cornwell requested Saru speak his mind.

"It is of a classified nature," said Saru. The turbolift was hardly a secure space to speak. The same went for the brig, where L'Rell offered an explanation as to what had happened.

"She took me," said L'Rell, "said she wanted to broadcast to my people and turn over Discovery. She did not understand that I left, or that there are many Klingon houses. She made me tell her about them. I did. Then you became aware of her. She was distracted dealing with your people. I stopped her."

A crucial detail Saru had missed during his turbolift confinement was that the Mudd protocols had been overridden not thanks to the combined skills of Owosekun, Airiam, and Groves, but because their opponent had suddenly stopped fighting.

"Brig Chess," said Cornwell when they were back in the hall.

"It was a program that was added during the null time incident when Mr. Groves was confined to the brig," said Saru. It seemed unwise to mention the program's enduring popularity in light of the problems it had caused.

"Who added it?"

"Dr. Mischkelovitz."

"I want to talk to her."

"Dr. Pollard does not think it likely she will recover from her neural injury."

Cornwell grimaced, pressing her thumb to her mouth in agitated thought. "I want a full review of that program."

"I recommend Commander Airiam lead the investigation. There is also the other issue I must speak with you about," Saru reminded her.

They headed back to the bridge, intending to use the ready room, but when Airiam was informed of her new task, she asked, "Should I ask Mr. Groves to assist?"

"Groves?" echoed Saru, feeling a gnawing alarm in his stomach.

"He wrote the program."

"You said it was Mischkelovitz," said Cornwell.

Saru assumed it was Mischkelovitz because Groves had been in the brig. Groves could not have...

But he had. The Lab 26 protocols, which he claimed were O'Malley's. Saru realized the reason his mind had jumped to Groves when the turbolift stopped working was that, subconsciously, he had already figured it out.

"Admiral, I did not think it possible, but I believe Mr. Groves programmed the game from the confines of the brig. I must speak with you immediately. It cannot wait any longer."

Groves let them into the lab because resistance would have been futile in the long run. "You have to keep this secret or the whole universe is gonna go poof," was his greeting to Cornwell.

"Be that as it may, Mr. Groves," said Saru, "it has come to our attention that you have compromised several of the ship's systems and I'm afraid I must take you into custody."

"Know a good lawyer?" said Groves, smiling with amusement at his own terrible joke.

Cornwell did not hang around to hear Groves plead his case with Saru. She was no longer interested in Groves or his chess program. She attempted to open the door to Lalana's room, the controls buzzing negatively in response, and Groves opened the door for her from across the room.

For a long moment after she entered and the door slid shut behind her, there were no words. Cornwell stared at Lorca, his bare chest displaying the confused mess of tissue left by Mischkelovitz, and he stared at her from his position on the couch, trying to find something in her face besides bitter anger. "Kat," he finally said.

"You," she seethed, "do not get to call me that. You do not get to speak. You... monster."

Lorca's face settled into a dry glower. Not everyone hated monsters as much as Cornwell apparently did. "Guess the cat's out of the bag." It was as much an admission that he was a monster as a clever little workaround to show that, even if he wasn't using her nickname, he could still use it. He could still play tricks on her and get the better of her.

Cornwell drew her phaser and pointed it at Lorca, exactly as she had done with the bowl of fortune cookies. Her finger hovered on the trigger.

"You gonna kill me?" he asked. "That's very Starfleet of you."

"You don't know anything about Starfleet," she said.

"Don't I? I know that you're the self-proclaimed good guys, protecting innocent aliens. Like I did at Pahvo. But you were still gonna take my ship away, weren't you?"

She could scarcely believe her ears. Her mouth fell open. The shock lasted only a moment. "This isn't your ship!" Her phaser pointed away from him, at least, because she was so angry she realized she was at risk of shooting him unintentionally.

"I built this ship!" Lorca shouted back. "I gave you the idea! Win the war with science and cookies, the 'Starfleet' way. You crewed me up with a bunch of damn cadets and I turned them into a fighting force capable of winning this war. All you had to do was let me keep Discovery! But you couldn't do that, could you? Because—"

"Because you aren't him! You lied to me!"

Lorca's face twisted into mocking indignation. "You think he never lied to you?"

Cornwell gasped involuntarily. They had that in common, the two of them. They were always playing with their cards against their chest, never sharing, misdirecting to get what they wanted, using her affection as a way to get what they wanted. They were both of them manipulative bastards and they always had been.

"Don't you dare," she said, wagging her finger, but she put her phaser back in its holster. "You don't know anything about my Gabriel."

The truth was Lorca knew more about her Lorca than she did not just because Lalana had told him the man's entire life story, but because he knew for a fact he thought like the other Lorca did. He had realized as much reading the other Lorca's logs. They were more alike than probably anyone wanted to admit. (Except Lalana, who was clinging to this fact like it was a tree in San Francisco.)

Lorca could have pressed the point with Cornwell, really beaten her up with it, but there seemed to be nothing more to gain from the venture. Instead, he said, "I know that he wouldn't be capable of winning this war, but I am."

There was a point in there. Perhaps a Terran could win this war, but Cornwell was dead-set on making sure it would not be Lorca. "You're too late. We've been overrun. The Klingons are everywhere."

This was Lorca's first update as to the tactical situation and it did not mesh with what he expected to hear. "How—I destroyed the Sarcophagus for you!"

"And now, instead of one enemy to negotiate with, we have twenty-four."

Lorca immediately realized that, while the destruction of the Sarcophagus should have given Starfleet the opportunity to retaliate in full force against a disorganized enemy, rather than go on the offensive, the Federation had probably turned the momentary strategic advantage into an attempt to negotiate. (They had. Any advantage Kol's death offered was lost when the Federation reached out, suggested this was an opportunity for peaceful resolution while the Klingons recovered from the loss of their leader, and twenty-four Klingon houses had laughed at the implication Kol's death meant anything to them and gone on to prove exactly how wrong the Federation was.)

"You—nimrods! You had everything you needed to win! I handed you victory on a platter!"

"You took our cloaking algorithm to another universe! Nine months!"

In nine months, they had not been able to craft another, not without the spore drive to gather all the data before the Klingons could disable any sensors planted on their ships. They had tried it and failed. Lorca's anger fell away, replaced by a very real regret. It was a look of regret she recognized from their ill-fated night together. "I didn't mean to," he said.

"That doesn't change the fact you did," she said, icily now that she realized this had not been his ultimate intention.

"I thought Discovery'd be gone a few weeks," he said. "Just long enough..." He looked away.

"Just long enough for us to think we needed you?" she asked. He swallowed and grimaced; that was a yes. "We did need you. As much as it pains me to admit it."

"I'm here now," he said.

Her head shook faintly. "I don't know you are. Who are you?" She had been asking that question ever since the moment she learned the truth.

"I'm Gabriel Lorca." And as if he needed to convince himself of it as much as her: "I'm still Gabriel Lorca."

Part 98