#in his ‘i might have done a bad decision here - ACH NO FEELINGS’ arc

[inamindfarfaraway]

Sonic the Hedgehog movies AU where the times Knuckles and Sonic respectively arrive on Earth are reversed. Five-year-old Knuckles, searching his village for useful supplies after realizing that nobody is coming back, discovers the distant planet Earth marked as important on a map of likely locations the Owl Tribe may have hidden the Master Emerald. With nothing left for him in his homeland, he takes his father’s bag of portal rings and steps through. He is taken in by the Wachowskis first. Four-year-old Sonic meanwhile grows up alone, travels the galaxy and initially appears as an antagonist.

Right now I can think of two main plot divergences beyond that. Firstly, complicated but interesting: Knuckles doesn’t stay hidden, as he’s trying to find the Master Emerald and also with his code can’t resist rushing in to help when sees Tom in need, so he gets unofficially adopted practically right off the bat. He then grows up the best kept secret of Green Hills. His parents adore him, but he’s still kinda an outcast from the rest of human society, because he’s just so different and potentially dangerous - he struggles to take the necessary care with his strength and suffers from the same loss of control of his Chaos energy when deeply upset that canon Sonic used to. The townspeople see that he’s a good kid and they can’t speak ill of their upstanding sheriff and vet, but they don’t exactly trust Knuckles either. Not feeling like he’ll ever fully belong, afraid of causing more damage and not having processed his grief for his birth father and people and everything he knew before nearly enough, he develops strong tendencies to isolate himself and bottle things up in shame. And, oh yes, he still hasn’t completed his mission to retrieve and protect the incredibly powerful most sacred object to his lost culture. He fears that at this rate he never will. He feels very guilty about all of this.

Repairing his strained relationships with Tom and Maddie is a key part of his arc in the first movie, alongside learning to accept, forgive, trust and be kinder to himself. He ultimately decides that the Master Emerald is evidently safe enough for now and his mission can wait until he’s older and wiser. His current focus shall instead be being a normal teenager who Has Fun and Likes Himself.

Secondly, Sonic’s antivillain personality would not be a dutiful, honourable warrior genuinely believing he’s in the right. No. How does his literal theme song go again? “Long as the voice inside drives me to run and fight/It doesn’t matter who is wrong and who is right”. This Sonic, pre-second movie, is a cynical, untethered pragmatist who cares only about his own survival, benefit and freedom; a notorious thief and swindler sly and swift enough to get away with anything. They call him the Blue Devil. Where Knuckles had an excessive sense of responsibility, Sonic has all but suppressed his. The only person who mattered was Longclaw and she’s gone. What’s the point of getting attached to other people? They’ll all leave too. But that won’t need to hurt him - he won’t hurt them - if he follows his mother’s advice and never stops running. Yes, deep down he blames himself for Longclaw’s death. He has better social skills than Knuckles, but not his principles. Is Robotnik mean and shady? Absolutely. Is that Sonic’s problem, when he’s confident that he can either stay on the doctor’s good side or outrun his bad one? Nope! Getting to kick an echidna in the nuts with super speed is a nice bonus.

But beneath that arrogant, apathetic facade he does have a conscience. His character development starts with it slowly dawning on him how much worse than him Robotnik and big of a deal the Master Emerald are and he begins to take the stakes seriously. If Robotnik wins, innocent people will die. This entire (admittedly very beautiful) planet could be in danger. None of his crimes have risked going this far before. Does he really want to be an accessory to the rise of an actual tyrant and supervillain who wants to murder a teenager? So he begins to hesitate about aiding Robotnik. Next Knuckles notices that they’re about the same age and empathizes with him, knowing from the previous film what it’s like to be a traumatized, terrified, self-loathing fifteen-year-old in over your head; that they lost everything on the same day just draws more attention to their similarities. Tails curtails that conversation, but it remains the first taste of empathy and connection Sonic’s had since he was four. That’s pretty enticing. He saves Knuckles’s life to not be in his debt (ostensibly at least), and the rest is history.

Knuckles’s arc in the second movie is learning what it really means to be a hero and leader, after idealizing the concepts - and his parents, who are his heroes - his whole life. He’s internalized that he’s a kid and is allowed to make mistakes, but can’t reconcile that with now being responsible for an innocent and younger friend, Tails, and having to complete his Heroic Quest for the Chaos Emerald much sooner than anticipated. Surely a Hero has to be perfect and a leader has always know what to do. His birth father seemed that way, after all. When his moment comes, he can’t afford to fail. Learning that his beloved dad, and generally the echidnas, were responsible for Longclaw’s death and Sonic’s trauma shatters that idea. He eventually resolves that he can be a hero and his imperfect self simultaneously and his team are his equals and able to cover his weaknesses.

Also, Knuckles still speaks the same while Sonic absorbs modern slang and speech patterns like a sponge. This is crucial. When Knuckles calls his parents Mum and Dad at the end of the first movie instead of Mother and Father, it’s a huge affirmation of intimacy.

Now I just need a name for this AU. Any ideas?

[vaguely-concerned]

X-men Evolution; the great 2021 rewatch liveblog

exactly what it says on the tin, about halfway through the show I had TOO MANY FEELINGS and had to start writing some of them out haha (gets quite gambit & rogue/gambit heavy in the latter half, Because of Who I Am as a Person)

- this is my childhood’s x-men, my formative experience with them, and I’m happy to report that still seems like a good thing. the little eleven year old within me gets to geek out and have a good time with the characters and the surprisingly good animation and writing, adult me gets to CACKLE at regular intervals at the fashion/technology/absolute bonkers hot garbage comic book nonsense they use to justify a storyline every now and then, it’s been a good time 

- I was like ‘ah well it is super dated it probably won’t be quite the same now’ and then rogue’s HAIR did the THING in the opening and ‘it’s all coming back to me now’ started playing in the background... the little baby queer in me swooning across time and space

- such a good beast, both his design and the writing, my heart aches for him all the time. he’s just so passionate! about being a teacher! helping young humans learn the stuff they’ll need in life! the most wonderful nerd man, just let good things happen for him

- I’m going to go ahead and assume that rogue’s ‘crush’ on scott is more of a deeply complex psychological process about desiring normalcy and intimacy and trying to figure out if she’s queer and dealing with her emerging sexuality and latching on to the first and best safely unavailable and nonthreatening older boy to project these issues onto rather than actually being a real thing, because I respect her so much as a person and I cannot bring myself to imagine she’s honestly attracted to a man who has POSTERS OF CARS on his bedroom wall. (I’ll give jean a break just because she seems to have a longer deeper history with him that might counteract some of that libido-kill, and also she’s a jock so lol)

like I am very sorry but can u imagine being a teenage girl with any interest in a boy with model cars in his bedroom when gambit’s swanning around being a much, much, much worse choice on almost every possible level but in a teen girl kryptonite kind of way? inconceivable  

(I drag scott quite a few times in this and it’s not because I don’t love him, it’s just his tragedy to be the most draggable man in the world)

to be fair by the time gambit shows up that whole Situation has mostly played itself out I suppose but still  

- toad’s design is so ineffably brilliant, I can’t quite tell you why but that ugly cute charm has really stuck with me, he’s one of the characters I remembered the best to this day just visually

- poor evan... he truly never had a chance, did he, they just saddled him with the most 90s teen bullshit they could come up with like he’s some kind of ‘what adult writers think teens like’ frankenstein’s monster ;______; it’s not your fault honey

- poor poor POOR storm, she gets one focus episode and they were like ‘we’re going to make an episode so racist -- ‘

I’m still STUNNED at how bad it was, but undeniably I laughed hysterically to the point that my neighbours were probably worried when that dude was earnestly like ‘He [stunningly breathlessly racist caricature of a ‘witch doctor’ guy] has stolen her powers, and he’s going to use them to take over Africa!!!’ fhajsdlfhsakjldfh oh really? tell me more, like how the fUCK this could be on television within my life time fasdlfhsdkjfhsad f  just... fahjksdfh

- it’s a testament to gambit’s appeal as a character that his charm can survive what they’ve done with his hair and beard choices in this one fajskfhs regrettable but true I still fuckn LOVE him and in my highly biased yet Correct opinion he should have been around much more. get you a man who manages to stay hot through sheer Vibes even with a bowl cut

- aw scott/jean is kind of sweet in this show even if it’s taking them forEVER to get there, I like it 

- it’s very nice of rogue to not mention magneto’s romantic daydreams and nostalgic memories about charles xavier after touching his face that one time... or maybe her brain did her a service and repressed it, there’s some stuff you shouldn’t have to know about your father figure   

- the danger room is the very definition of ‘why do we even have that lever’ and I wonder what the fuck prof x does to have enough money to replace everything that gets busted all the time

- I’d say that a lot of the writing holds up surprisingly well! (but some of it is also incredibly inexcusably racist in ways that beggar belief, so... not full marks here) the characters have distinct voices and their arcs are set up and delivered on solidly for the most part, and there’s a lot of love showing through in small moments that are just there to have a funny/interesting thing to say about the characters and how their powers work separately and in combination. listen, sometimes I get so thirsty for like. basic goddamn competency in storytelling, let me have this

- ugggggh why is there captain america in my x-men have I not suffered enough... very very funny when prof x goes ‘sounds like you knew rogers personally’ and logan is like ‘I did ;)’ *all the students ganging up on steve rogers* “did you fuck our teacher, captain america?!”

- fskadfhas WHY are you showing me hot young-ified magneto’s ass fksjahfskj charles is not even here to see it, what a tragic waste erik 

- ...I was sort of kidding before but uh I think logan genuinely did fuck captain america (or at least wishes very much that he did lol)

- wanda can have a little watching the world burn. as a treat for the way every single adult in her life has fucking failed her (’aren’t they treating you well here’ professor x she’s in a straightjacket)  

- poor rogue tho can you imagine finding out after your biggest crush on a girl yet that she’s your fucking MOM in disguise... I would break out in cold sweat every time I thought about a boob forever after

- well seems like they really just had all that homoerotic rivalry stuff between quicksilver and spyke in their first ep only to never do anything with that again ever?? I mean even without the gay undertone that seems like a dynamic you spent most of an episode setting up writers what the hell haha

- dslhfkasjlh GAMBIT THERE HE IS MY BOY IS ON THE SCENE THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! I don’t even care about his awful hair situation or the fact that his eyes are wrong here (coloured contact lenses, maybe, for a watsonian explanation? though he’d probably have to get them made special, considering he needs the sclera and the iris covered up in different ways, I’ve seen some comic panels indicating he has been known to?)

(cute little detail: when he shuffles the cards the first time we see him he ends with removing the top card to show the ace of hearts beneath <3 foreshadowing baBEY he’s a... good-ish boy deep down. hey he tries okay shit gets complicated sometimes lol) 

- cracking UP at gambit perched cheerily on the edge of a crate dispensing cards in the middle of the battle... he’s like ‘eh it’s a livin’ sfsajkhf remy stop working for supervillains just because you had nothing to do on a thursday afternoon and they said they’d pay you

- I’m guessing magneto must have imposed a strict order of silence on these guys or something because I cannot imagine any other reason for him to shut up, especially once he notices rogue is a QTE (or, far more likely, they hadn’t settled on any voice actors for the new characters until next season haha. it is kind of odd that they’re all keeping up near monastic silence, though, even sabertooth lol) 

- WHAT an epic first meeting for us rogue/gambit fans here... first his shadow like there’s fireworks going off behind him lighting him up and then he gives her the fuckn king of hearts and she’s so enchanted by his dumb handsome face she doesn’t even notice it’s about to blow up in her hands and it all happens in heavily meaningful silence afjsdfjashjk no wonder this ship ingrained itself in my hindbrain  

yeah look smug while you can remy she’s gonna have you on your knees one day and you’ll be happy about it lol

- god storm is so COOL, everything just fading out of focus when she really gets going... give her more screen time, show!!

- mystique is every person... this person... that person... that bird... that cat... that wolf... I’m not even sure she’s not also me... are you sure she’s not you? 

- holy fuck I respect the hell out of the decision to just... blow up the entire status quo in a season ender, I only vaguely remembered that (actually in general I appreciate how good the continuity is -- buildings and places that get damaged in battles need to be repaired or rebuilt, it makes the consequences feel more real even when no one gets seriously hurt. where they get the money to restore scott’s car and logan’s motorbikes every time they go cablooie is still an open question tho lol is it credit card fraud, professor? is it telepathically acquired blackmail???) 

- I first watched this when I was nine or so, so it’s a real experience to go from my starry eyed intrigued ‘oh my god... they’re teenagers’ to my horrified adult perspective of ‘oh my god... they’re TEENAGERS D:’

that goes double for the brotherhood boys honestly, I’m here with tears in my eyes like ‘I’m sorry the system has failed you so badly you’re all just a bunch of dumb kids whose caretakers clearly fucked up spectacularly’  

like lance is always waiting for mystique to come back because she’s the closest thing he has to a safe parental figure, may we speak about how crushingly depressing that is 

- rogue is so ready to throw hands at literally any moment and for that I love and treasure her immensely (I think getting to see her be so surly and unreasonable and sometimes difficult and jealous, like any teenager, meant a lot to me as a kid who was not really allowed to be any of these things, this version of the character has stayed with me so deeply. she holds on so fiercely to her right to feel what she feels and be what she is even when it’s ‘ugly’ or unreasonable, which I think plays in really interestingly with how her powers involve getting invaded by other people’s thoughts and memories to the point of overwhelming her own sense of self and the fact that she clearly has a lot of self-loathing and self-consciousness and confusion about her identity as well. I love her so much)  

- oooof this is the ‘the gang experience a microaggression’ episode huh (well more like macroagressions really)

hits a bit different with adult eyes and perspective huh

- hearing jean sound almost like a child when she says ‘that’s so unfair!’ somehow has me like ;______; -- she has to be so adult and responsible all the time, and having her be reduced to the kid she still is and should get to be in front of this awful awful man she could squash like a bug with the flick of a thought... ugh I’m Big Sad (it is funny that jean seemingly plays Every Sport tho djfhaskj)

- MY BOY IS BACK!!! this time with the duster coat and his eyes the right colour, im so happy (too bad about the subdued colour scheme tho; I adore his dumb bright pink getup with my whole heart)

it’s kind of adorable that he takes the time to take the bullies aside and go ‘I know these guys can’t wreck you without getting expelled, but I think you’ll find no law set down by god or man would stop me from doing so whenever I wanted to. so piss off and leave them alone’ lol he’s looking out for them, in his own way

- in this episode: remy lebeau wrangles some kids while looking bored yet mildly amused the whole time. what the fuck does magneto have on you for you to agree to this level of babysitting duty buddy

- fun detail I noticed b/c when I get a fave I hyperfixate: he gave rogue the king of hearts before, but he ‘introduces’ himself to the brotherhood here (lol) with the jack of hearts, probably to symbolize he’s here as someone who works for magneto in this setting and not as his own man? it’s a demotion he’s given himself there, anyway, might be he’s not very pleased about his current position huh 

- I like it when rogue and kitty team up, they’re not very effective together but their squabbling is so cute and non-aggressive 

- pietro is what draco malfoy would be if I ever found malfoy interesting to watch for even one moment, every time quicksilver talks I’m like ‘what wonderfully insufferable thing is going to come out of your mouth this time you little shit :’)’

- a) why are scott and logan shirtless for this scene? I am not complaining on the logan side of things at least but why and b) I laughed so hard I almost fell off my couch when scott asked logan if he’d ever been in love and he was like ‘once. she was the most beautiful bike I ever saw’ falsdfhaskjfhsakjlfhasklhjfd THE BEST VERSION OF WOLVERINE EVER, ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTES 

- mystique’s sheer dedication to being a petty bitch is kind of inspirational tbh, almost makes me want to go on a completely bonkers and extra crusade of personal revenge myself  

- oooh they’re doing some genuinely cool things with vision/lack of vision in this one (it’s the scott left on his own in the desert without glasses one btw) even visually, dang! I’m so sad this show didn’t get more seasons than it did, honestly, it deserved it

- hell yeah jean wreck her, go get your man with the suspiciously specific clothing damage normally done to female characters 

awww :’) okay yeah they’re super sweet, I love the tiny loving animation details like how he leans his head against her and her stroking his hair away from his eyes

- nooo don’t bully evan leave my t0tally r4dical sk8er boy alone :(

- I love the running joke of people fleeing in blind panic only to reveal that what they’re running from is kitty’s cheerful well meaning little face fskfaskh 

- scott and jean are already peak married after officially being together for one episode and it’s adorable, and they just stone cold threw logan under the bus, rip wolverine we hardly knew ya

fjasdlfasldfhslajdkfhsadkjlfhsdkjalfhsdakfh h jean establishing herself as the alphabitch of this relationship by throwing her man to the wolves right after dsjfhaskjfhaskjhfsakjdhfaskjhfaskdhfskjahfskdajhf get smarter or get volunteered scott 

- ...eyepatch lady is so hot ngl

oh evan went to the place hank used to go to calm down ;________; (honestly he’s kind of won a place in my heart just by being a pretty normal teenage boy haha)

- jesus fucking CHRIST can you imagine being storm having to look her sister in the eye as she tells her ‘I lost your only child, he’s *vague gesture* somewhere in the sewers we think’ this poor woman

- amanda the self admitted monster fucker you are so VALID (I love her and her family’s design so much tho!)

- it’s so cool that even in his human ‘disguise’ kurt’s fingers follow the shape of his actual hand beneath it rather than moving like a five fingered hand, it’s such a lovingly consistent little detail 

- magneto and mystique in a breathless race to see who can be the shittiest parent... tune in next week for yet another parental nadir (also some low-poly gambit appearances in this one, for those at home keeping score (me), he’s in the background looking like someone drew him with their eyes closed fakjldfhasd look how they massacred my boy)

- someone please teach the brotherhood boys about consent huh

- jean ‘soccer mom before her time’ grey and her SUV dfhakjlhds :’)

- im sobbing rogue baby girl i’m so sorryyyyyy, this voice actress is so good, my parental instincts suddenly kicked into overdrive hearing the crack in her voice :( (bb me was right tho rogue centric episodes ARE the best episodes. that tension between ‘do I identify witn this character or am I crushing on her?? both???’ now has the fun new addition of ‘oh god oh no you are a baby I want to shield you with my body from everything trying to hurt you’)

- mystique is like ‘so you see despite you telling me you never wanted to see me again I completely disrespected that and posed as a friend your age, manipulated you by offering you the mirage of direly needed emotional intimacy and belonging and added some sprinkles of homoerotic tension to it just to massively worsen your already existing grievous psychosexual trauma and identity issues... out of love’

god go jump in a black hole you fucking monster 

- there’s some very interesting and quite subtle subtext about the people she’s morphing into and what that says about her mental state/how it shows off some of her emotional baggage with the rest of the team. it’s like she’s switching between people/powers that fit the purpose as if she’s going through cycles of fight/flight (and then bursts of freeze where she’s herself, which is... so sad)

- this whole episode is hurting my heart but rogue at full power is undeniably epic  

 - ‘professor x get your goddamn act together and get this poor girl some fucking tHERAPY’ challenge

- SAFE PAPA LOGAN ;_____;

- EYYYYYY opening straight on My Lad, I cannot stop winning!!!!! 

fasdfhsad disintegrating the window with a smiley face... remy I do love you more than my heart can bear honestly, hello may we speak about the fact that his urge to be a little shit is so deep and strong it survives mind control (that little breathed out ‘hiah!’ as he vaults the fence too dsakfjsd)

hahaha and he does up the coat fhsalfdsaj 

- magneto dismissing other telepaths like ‘puh-lease, your Meaningful Looks have got nothing on my ex-husband’s’ 

- :’) rogue and kurt sibling timeees

- say what you want but this pyro guy’s got job satisfaction in being a creepy arsonist with a weird recurring horse theme (well at least twice but still weird)

- I love how beast is the kindest man to ever walk the earth but also straight up savage, this man drags people so hard their ancestors wince in their graves

- gambit taking the time to complete the guard’s game of solitaire -- this episode is giving me everything I want. u little disgrace mr lebeau

and THEN he takes the spider out in the most hilariously bonkers way my heart is so FULL

(I love that when magneto moves by he looks startled and has to quickly move his head out of the way to avoid getting kicked in the temple too that’s a fun detail)

I’m so INTO how this sequence shows off that his greatest strength isn’t even his powers (which are pretty straightforward, really, he makes go boom, longer time and bigger thing bigger boom) but that he’s clever and creative and always extremely ready to be the most harebrained-bananapants-extra-in-a-deceptively-laidback-sort-of-way person in the room (I actually have some genuinely Deep Thoughts about how his whole character does a really interesting thing with having the straightforwardly destructive nature of his powers yield to what his nature as a person is, and how using the playing cards play (heh) into it, maybe I’ll write it out some day. just the fact that he could use anything, but he deliberately chose something that adds style and playfulness and corny charm to it and that also limits the damage of the explosions compared to if he habitually used something with more mass... I find it fascinating how much he’s made a story around himself with it and how deeply it shows he does have a good heart, at the end of the day, in almost a metatextual way. he doesn’t want to destroy things or people, he’s at worst (and best lol) a thief.)

- I honestly have literally no memory of white nick fury (which seems so weird now isn’t it funny) in this series from when I was a kid, he clearly did not make an impression on me lol

- mr wolverine ‘assigned canadian at birth’ x-men 

- oh man I dig the androgynity of x-23′s outfit (even tho they had to compensate with the long hair, which... kind of doesn’t make sense in-universe but does on a design level because it’s a crucial thing that she’s a female clone of logan so yeah okay fine whatever have your arbitrary gender markers if you must haha)

ooooooh that’s actually really clever, they make her gender gradually more obvious as she unravels through the episode and her outfit changes -- first the mask coming off, and then her jacket opening to show her silhouette more clearly, that’s cool!  

- my god what really sets this show apart is how much it invests in little character and relationship moments, it’s just so fucking GOOD! it gives laura looking in on those moments such depth and weight because it’s new to her but established to us as an audience, this is how you make found family devastating people (storm growing bonsai trees is so charming too haha) 

- ooof this is honestly quite harrowing 

SHE’S SO SMALL COMPARED TO HIM I’M CRYING (at least that part of his genes translated over faslkfsjdh short king, I say this with all the love and support of a fellow short monarch)  

- tabitha seems to just be running around doing precisely whatever the fuck she wants and you know what I support her even if she is an asshole her father left her a bunch of trauma and no fucks left to give 

- still thrilled about professor x explaining the spider key fuckup to magneto after the fact like ‘magnus you dumb bitch this is why we split up’ 

- awww kitty has anime and movie posters on her wall and sleeps with a stuffed toy :’)

-          remy                           rogue

                              🤝

doing completely unnecessary parkour around the brotherhood living room seemingly just for the hell of it... I’m not saying soulmates but fucking soulmates 

- fhsadkjlfhsakjldfhsadjkfhsdajkfh just as gambit’s soul-level need to be a little shit survived his bout of mind control, rogue’s deep and urgent desire to kiss gambit full on the mouth survived hers I can’t breathe

she looks so pleased with herself too GOOD FOR YOU GIRL at least get something out of this other than more trauma 

also not only the fact that he’s smart enough to figure out what’s going on (though he’s only partially right about who’s behind it. I do so enjoy gambit/mystique deep and sincere antipathy as a constant across all universes tho lmao pure wlw/mlm hostility) but also that he keeps fending her off like he’s not trying to hurt her even though she’s in nigh on unstoppable and invulnerable terminator mode... awww 

- gambit having absolutely no patience for wolverine and sabertooth’s bullshit macho-off and consistently being this little biker trio’s one brain cell is adding years to my life with every passing moment

his voice is a little different in these scenes too, a bit softer and less like he’s trying to impress someone, it’s nice

- hank: well I barely recognize any of these (completely made up) ‘ancient egyptian hieroglyphs’ but from what I can make out -- *proceeds to infodump a perfect coherent narrative* fjdhfak  

listen this whole thing is such nonsense on so many levels, I’m just turning my brain off so I won’t have to think about it okay, the compulsion to put ancient aliens in egypt haunts us as a culture 

- I am CACKLING about gambit in the snow after having to listen to these two chucklefucks ooze testosterone at each other for hours

he started out taking it in good cheer and is now reduced to ‘dieu would both of you just jump off this fUCKING mountain please’

- ah. a little oops-a-daisy there, we seem to have unleashed the apocalypse. please stand by (they really don’t pull their punches with the season cliffhangers in this show haha)

- opening the season on gambit’s merrily grinning face is the easiest way to gain my favour. yes good this season may commence 

baby u r my

 ANGELLLLLLLL

(he’s so cute here tho haha I think it shows the design isn’t unsalvagable, just get him better hair and stubble more like logan has and you’ve basically got it) 

love his exasperated eyeroll when the dude gets spooked (by his eyes? or just the general weirdness?) too

he’s just trying to keep this crazy family of evil mutants together and unmurdered by one another until they’ve managed to avert the end of the world, bless him  

- oh NO rogue’s LIP wobbles my hhhhhheart ;____; such a good animation detail to put in

- like... I know kurt is just a sad scared teenager with a lot of shit going on and all the adults are too busy averting the end of the world to help him... but buddy maybe don’t ask your sister to wake her abuser (who forced her to kickstart the end of the world!!!!!) when she feels utterly unsafe even with her statue version around huh

- ...wanda is good and I want only good things for her. and for her dad to be disemboweled for what he did to her both the first time around and when he forced her to forget I mean what 

- magneto throwing an epic satelite-slinging tantrum b/c ‘no I am the biggest sexiest strongest mutant of the pack :(’... erik fucking get over yourself 

- yes boys absolutely go along with a plan suggested by a dude who looks at you like this 

nothing bad can come of this surely asdfkhsa

- lance’s quarter of a braincell always trying to go ‘hey wait, maybe... not do this???’ and it never helps lol

- in this episode: Logan Has A Bad Day 

...some very specific bondage positions he’s held in here, I am sure this episode awakened something in someone once upon a time lol 

- logan shielding x-23 with his body... im fine it’s okay I’m not crying don’t look at me

- afsdhlsdfjasdlk those sure are some ‘scottish’ accents flsadkjhkdsjahfsd

- scott relieved to finally be able to cede the position of ‘charles xavier’s least favourite son’ to someone else fjsaklfhsajd (poor scott it’s not your fault honey)

supremely cowardly to suggest there is an ex-wife involved rather than charles slutting his way around the british isles back in the day but okay

- kurt with a cold is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. it’s okay kid it’ll get better soon

- ...is there an implication here that professor x is naturally blond. because I am losing my entire little mind about it (i mean he at least has to carry the gene, as does this lady?)

ETA: upon doing some research into this I can indeed confirm that charles xavier does seem to be naturally blond, and after this knowledge I will never be the same 

- “listen, dracula” fskdafghasd oh scott you sweet baby angel I love you

- I know jean’s abilities are a bit ‘as strong or as weak as the plot needs right now’ at this point (so you can have the setup for what’s going to happen with them eventually and she’s basically invincible ;____;), and normally I’m cool with it but god I want her to just squash lucas like a little bug

- ewwwww please don’t ever say ‘daddy’ like that again

- ...what the fuck is even going on this episode’s a mess 

like okay the split personality thing could be something but the way it’s done... what just happened lol

- MY BOY EVAN IS BACK! with a real glowup too (...though kind of weird how he suddenly looks like a grown man)

- augh scott’s eyes are so pretty oh my god ;__________________________;

- that episode in the first season where evan makes the ‘this is my new family!!’ video is so sad now (also, again, his poor poor parents) 

- time for: life affirming road trip with gambit (involuntary) faskljdfhaskjd

stunt therapist remy lebeau 

- I mean the way he goes about it is batshit insane and it’s very much secondary to what he’s actually up to but this is the first time rogue’s sounded genuinely hopeful and confident and like herself in like a season <3 

- he is disconcertingly pleased about her nearly throwing him off the train, and may I just say I agree it’s so nice to see rogue with her old fire back 

- the first time I watched this it was of course dubbed into norwegian, so I had no idea either of these characters were southern lol (though to be fair I probably wouldn’t have had much context for what it meant exactly either, I was like ten at the time and not too interested in america) I seem to dimly remember the norwegian voice actor did a little more of a ‘french’-tinged accent for gambit all over tho haha  

- you know what respect where it’s due, pyro dude knows to live his life for the lols and one has to admire his sociopathic dedication to it

interesting that he, too, seems to have fucking hated magneto -- I wonder if the implication here is that he kept all the acolytes in line with blackmail or by keeping something/one hostage? (except sabertooth maybe he’d just have to say ‘you get to fuck shit up and fight wolverine’ and that’d be enough)

- fsdakfhsd he’s so focused on her he doesn’t notice that guy about to hit him fkafhsa 

- fuck everything else except whatever the hell these two’ve got going on

- it’s weirdly cathartic to have rogue have a conversation with someone who was not happily adopted as well, I don’t think kurt like. gets it because his parents loved him unconditionally and still do 

birds of a feather motherfucker  

- fun detail: when the x-men team are on the shore and logan is sniffing around scott is stepping in something and trying to wipe it off his boots in the background

- when he wakes up after passing out from the touch he’s smiling even though she’s standing over him looking like the rage of god outlined by the moon fsajfsa well the last time he passed out like that it was from a kiss, maybe he still has some hopes and dreams in that direction lol (also he recovers from the tumble down the hill first and is checking on her before accidentally brushing her cheek with his hand, which I thought was sweet) 

and it was in that moment he knew he fucked up *passes out*

- ‘I can explain’ can u remy. can u  

- did it ever even occur to you to just. ask her. to help you. I mean I know it didn’t but like rogue’s always one second away from throwing hands with some bully and is stupidly ride or die, if you’d given her the puppydog eyes she would have crumbled immediately (fair enough I guess this entire episode is telling us he’s not from a background where he has much experience with people just helping him without a price haha) 

- his eyes glowing when he’s angry or upset or using a lot of his power is undeniably cool as all hell. I’m just saying it would be Big Sexy if they sort of flickered with light in moments of genuine vulnerability okay  

- his coat... his coat is what makes the Silhouette tm and I could not be happier about it 

- another parent of the year contestant enters the running lol “hey remy have you ever considered that you’re more of a walking bomb factory than a person? that’s certainly how I think of you hahaha c’mon kid let’s go” 

- the running joke of jean luc getting dollar signs in his eyes seeing the other mutant powers and gambit being like ‘nO!!!!’ and pulling him along is amazing haha

- from the way he looks when he touches rogue accidentally and the way he talks to his dad I’m sort of getting the feeling this gambit might actually be a bit younger than he looks?

here too -- idk why but it’s making the ‘wait is he baby???’ alarms go off in my head haha. very early twenties at most. 

- and we’ve officially seen him with all the face cards in the heart suit folks! (yes this is the sort of thing my brain notices no I don’t know either)

- poor logan running his ass off this whole episode in a panic and then she’s like ‘nah he’s fine (in several meanings of the word ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) please put him down’ hfaskfsda

- rogue without makeup!!! her eyes look so naked like this haha <3

- oooh here’s a really interesting thing that tickles my brain a bit in this specific part of the scene where gambit frees his dad -- the part where he’s leaning against the door frame waiting for jean luc, who’s about to suggest using the opportunity to ruin the rival gang from the inside rather than slipping away while they still can

from his expression here he knows what’s about to happen, what jean luc is about to say, and it’s clearly a ‘man who thought he’d lost all hope loses last additional bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of situation. he KNOWS what jean luc is like, and it still hurts that he really, honestly can’t give him even this, can’t appreciate that remy’s already done all this shit for him when he extremely didn’t have to, without immediately (no really, it took him less than ten seconds to go there? jesus) demanding more.  

remy tells him “I’m just here for you” and jean luc does not understand it. remy seems to be sincere in this motivation -- rogue certainly thinks so, having experienced it second hand and found enough at least emotional merit in it to decide he was worth saving even after all his bullshit (lol a bit of a running theme maybe. I think it’s very telling that after she absorbed mystique she was like ‘what the FUCK you’re a fucking monster’, and after she absorbed gambit she went ‘you did the wrong thing for the right reasons’ after she got over the first wave of outrage) 

there’s also what he says as he stands there: “You don’t need me for that”, with the distinct implication that jean luc would only keep him around because he has a use for him and for no other reason -- and then jean luc shamelessly doubles down on that by specifying that it’s not even him he’s got a use for as such, just his powers. that’s some kicking puppies level of deliberately missing the point, it’s almost impressive in how cheerfully mean it is haha

this idea of using people is really important in this episode because remy’s doing basically exactly the same thing to rogue to begin with; it doesn’t really matter to his plan that it’s her that’s with him through this, just what her powers are. (I think it’s  p r e t t y  solidly implied that he does actually like her a lot outside of that too and maybe there is some comfort in having her around for this, but mostly he’s behind a smokescreen of lies through the whole thing sooo I doubt he’s even aware of it, honestly)     

but then it does matter that it’s her when she comes back for him, even after what he did. and unlike jean luc he understands what that means, that she did that for him, and that she didn’t have to. and instead of asking her for more, in return he gives her the thing it’s been established is what he considers the most valuable thing he has; his ‘last card’, the thing he’s credited with keeping him alive many a time, basically. it’s gone from using to mutuality, a tentative place of friendship, and at the end of the day he is a different man than his adoptive father, with a capacity for selflessness and love he lacks. which is of course some of the same stuff going on with rogue and mystique too, except rogue acted from a more fragile and unstable place and did something she regrets, or at least has a LOT of doubts about now, and she found some catharsis in helping someone make a different choice in a similar situation. man there’s some Stuff going on under the surface here haha

(by the way it’s a weirdly... meaningless yet intensely meaningful thing, the gifting of a symbol? of an idea? but he’s putting something very crucial of himself into her hands, is the subtext, and he expects her to understand, which she also does seem to do. at the beginning of the episode he’s proving that he’s seen something true about her -- “You’re such an unhappy girl”, knowing where she comes from, the way she’s mourning her lost confidence and autonomy with her abilities -- and here she’s proving she’s seen something true about him. :’) I wish this show had gone on long enough for this dynamic to progress, it’s really interesting and touching)   

- gambit dragging himself up onto dry land seeing someone approaching (to help?!): :D

gambit seeing that it’s logan and the look on his face: D: 

- rogue using her powers so confidently and fearlessly in this episode tho!!!! 

- *me crying* and then her FAMBILY comes to take her home and he says he’s looking out for her too and kurt still loves her even though they’re having a conflict thing between them and she’s finally able to use her powers without so much fear again and --

- ...did I just watch some baby lesbian love at first sight shit right now???  

- okay last two episodes let’s go

- HELL YEAH STORM (I love that she’s like ‘don’t give me a dumb order like that and I won’t have to disobey it’ too sdfjsaj) her voice has such command I’m usually very much not the ‘step on me’ type butttt

- y’know I feel like apocalypse’s main fault across all versions I’ve seen of him is that he’s like an immortal superpowered god king and he’s not even sexy. like at least make him hot if he’s going to be insufferable in every other way 

- also callout post for apocalypse: one time he made gambit into the Horseman of Death... and didn’t even make him sexy!!! you were handed remy lebeau, supreme bi disaster slut of the x men universe, and you couldn’t even make his brainwashed superpowered evil side hot?? a beautiful stubbled twunk with glowing red eyes and extremely charming :> face practically delivers himself into your hands and you do that to him???? I mean I’m sure apocalypse did some other bad stuff too but that was the worst one

(comics are so dumb y’all) 

- having to watch jean cry is emotional terrorism!! ;___; she has such older sister/mom energy, whenever she gets sad and helpless it hurts 

- oh, OH so PROFESSOR X you’ll make into a hunk and ~*strategically*~ rip his clothes to show off a nipple and a flawless pec in a way that makes me extremely uncomfortable because he’s like The Dad??? apocalypse you are rotten to the core this is unforgivable 

- so wait wanda never actually gets her real memories back. what the FuCk I hope that was a dropped storyline because they ended the show tragically prematurely rather than like. the plan

- why is spyke calling storm ‘storm’ show that’s his auntie o!! >:(

- as a society we need to acknowledge that apocalypse looks like a fucking clown

- ooooh yeah I have been thinking that this show’s greatest visual weakness so far has been not having a visual way to show telepathy/battles of the minds, but this is a pretty cool way to do it! better late than never

- I’m so happy rogue gets to end this herself, since she was forced into starting it against her will, it’s just nice and neat storytelling

- YEAH FUCKING TELL HER KURT AND ROGUE I AM SO PROUD OF YOU and she has the temerity to look pissed off oh my god

the only valid thing mystique has done in her entire life is be in love with destiny. literally everything else she gets up to is a travesty. like I know objectively she’s hot but my loathing for her stops me from even appreciating it. I do enjoy loathing her tho so please don’t change her haha

(a bit odd to have kurt’s attitude to her swing so much but I’m just going to assume he and rogue had a good long conversation after ‘cajun spice’ and that he understands what’s going on better now)

- this last part is such a cruel tease faskdfhsdaj ‘here are all the cool-ass things we had planned. sucks you never get to see it huh’ im devastated 

- magneto without his helmet and playing charmingly with children like charles is going ‘well at least I saved my marriage finally’ fsadkhfjsd (honestly tho I would be super interested in seeing how they’d redeem this magneto because he’s been a real bitch the whole time lol) 

there’s an interesting thing here where magneto looks down at wanda as the last thing he does on screen before this epilogue part (yeah I hope it fucking haunts you forever what you did to her erik you absolute piece of hot garbage) and the last thing charles does is look at jean b/c he knows what’s going to happen to her and it breaks his heart... Dramatic Parallells  

- just the hint of jean as the phoenix has me in full D:D:D: mode tho maybe I wouldn’t have survived it

- gambit in the last groupshot with his arm around rogue ;^) I mean I’m sure they’re headed for some turns and roundabouts along the way but what’s that thing she says as her wedding vow, that she’ll always find her way back? anyway that got me in my heart

- man I really wish this show had been given more seasons, we were barely even getting warmed up here :’(

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Your Choice.”

I am having a lot of fun with this arc.  Writing it has put me in a good mood, so I hope you like it as well :)

He walked the halls of the Oxystation with a  gun slung over his front hanging from a shortened tac sling around his neck and shoulder. He rested his arms and hands against the weapon as he walked down the hall. The gun was more of a redundancy than anything, if any unwanted alien was able to breach the hull of the station with the armored patrol outside than his gun was just a token sign of resistance. Of course, there was always the possibility that one of the patients would become violent and attack a staff member, but that possibility was quite low, even lower than it was in human mental health clinics. Only five percent of the mentally ill population was any sort of danger to anyone but themselves, and a large percentage of that would still, likely, never do anything bringing that number down somewhere closer to one percent.

With aliens it was even less likely, they weren’t naturally aggressive like humans, so when their mental health tanked, it tended to do it with extreme anxiety and something that looked sort of like depression, though the different species presented the illness differently. 

Working at the Oxyclinic had been good for him. It hadn’t been long until his enthusiasm for alien life had come trickling back in, and his fear had been discarded like a sock with a hole in it. He had even offered to help with the oxytheropy that the psychologists were offering. If anything was gong to get rid of his lingering fear of aliens, it was probably going to involve spooning one.

A weird way to deal with internalized fear but there you had it.

The oxystation wasn’t just for the oxytheropy. Human and alien psychologists were taking the time to learn about other species, and put together differing treatment plans for their patients. There was a high turnover rate, and not all the people who came to the clinic ended up staying, not all of them needed oxytheropy, and not all of them would do well having it considering that some of the fear the patients had often centered  their issues around humans. To his surprise, he found that a lot of it centered around the Drev war.

He looked down at his watch and took a sharp right turn down the nearest hallway entering the guard quarters just as his watch reached the hour.

“Morning LT.” Someone called and he waved a hand.

“Anything to report?”

“Nothing, all is quiet as usual.”

He ejected the magazine of his gun, and checked the chamber to make sure it wasn’t still loaded before racking it in the safebox as one of the other men stepped up to take his place on patrol.

The other group of men and women looked up at him from where they sat around a table playing cards, “Want us to deal you in.”

Adam shook his head walking over to his locker and pulling out a fresh pair of light blue scrubs, “No I promised the doc I would help today.”

The other humans shook their heads and rolled their eyes, “leave it up to you to want to spoon aliens.”

“Spooning aliens is a lucrative job. You should try it sometime, maybe you’d finally have enough money to buy the bag you’ve always wanted.”

“Bag?”

“YEah the nice one to cover your face.” he shut the locker and grinned at the car players to let them know it was all in good fun before turning towards the bathroom, where he changed and stepped back out. The scrubs were very breazy in comparison to his guard uniform and he shivered slightly returning to his locker.

It was important for people working on the ward to be completely unarmed, and for the humans to look as non threatening as possible. A strict list of instructions urged them not to smile with their teeth, and to keep their hands and feet covered at all times. He wasn’t entirely sure if the fuzzy socks and mittens were entirely necessary for that, but apparently some of the aliens interpreted human nails as claws, and some genius had thought that covering them up like this was very nonthreatening.

Looking in the mirror he had to admit it worked.

In his light blue scrubs and the fuzzy white mittens, he looked more like the easter bunny than he did a killer.

But then again, in real life he didn’t look much like a killer either.

He turned to walk out the door flipping off the people geering at him before remembering that he was wearing a mitten, which kind of negated the point of the gesture.

From there he wandered back up the hall and was buzzed into the ward after waving to the camera. He went through a few metal detectors which pinged on his leg, but they let him through anyway as he stepped into the hall and up to the staff room where the other workers and a few psychologists were having a break.

He took a seat in a chair and idly watched the TV.

HE looked around at the people who wore similar clothes as him and noted, not for the first time, that it took a special kind of person to do this job. All of these people were remarkably docile and relaxed people, and as far as he knew the vast majority of them had no shame. Despite humans being prone to cuddling pretty much anything and everything, its was pretty hard to spoon an alien and not feel awkward about it, but these people right here, they either enjoyed it or they were damn good at faking it.

Adam wasn’t good at faking anything so he was the former.

HE shifted slightly in his seat thinking about some of the aliens on the ward before his mind inevitably shifted to…. To him…. The alien that he dreaded seeing the most…. A big, tall hulking creature that wandered his nightmares and made his leg ache.

The Drev.

The Drev with eyes like the thing that had stolen his leg.

He put a hand to his head feeling a bit dizzy. He had only had one PTSD related panic attack since getting here, and that was only because he had been accidentally exposed to the Drev unexpectedly one day and without knowing that he was on the ward. It had been embarrassing for him as he tried not to let anyone know about his condition, but based on that incident he had been forced to come clean.

Ever since that incident�� he had been quietly forcing himself to get closer and closer to the Drev despite the psychologists telling him that it was perfectly acceptable for him to step off the ward if the Drev was on.

But adam didn’t like that mentality much.

He had always felt, ever since returning from the Drev war, that people were too soft on him. They always sat there and told him that it was fine and whatever he needed to do was important, that he couldn’t blame himself if he couldn’t handle something. They were all very forgiving and very understanding, but that's not what he wanted. At some point, he felt that it was acceptable to get up in someone's face and tell them that: no you aren't doing good enough and that you behavior isn’t ok.

He wanted people to ask more of him, not less, and he wanted to get better not stay stagnant.

If other people wanted to spend their days medicated and avoiding the things that made them hurt than that was their decision, but he planned on healing all the way.

It was a thought that he espoused only for himself and did not apply it to others. 

Their mental health was their business.

Either way, he was going to make something out of this, and had slowly been approaching the Drev on the ward over time. He didn’t know if the Drev knew, and it didn’t matter to him so much, but he did have a bit of his own agenda.

The door creaked open, and one of the psychologists stuck her head into the room looking around for a quick moment before her eyes fell on Adam.

“Lieutenant, can I speak with you for a moment.”

For a second Adam’s heart stopped a little. Was he in trouble? Had he done something wrong?

He tried looking at her face to see any signs of displeasure, but  she was a difficult woman to read, so he stood slowly and followed her from the room and back into her office where he took a seat.

She sat across from him at her desk hands folded together. SHe looked him over with eyes that seemed to bore into his sole, “How are you doing, Adam.”

He shifted nervously in his seat, “Er… I thought I was a staff member not a patient.”

“Just humor me.”

“I’m good.”

“Any panic attacks recently.”

“No ma’am.”

“Are you being truthful.”

“You and I both know I’m shit at lying.”

She grunted and clasped her hands together looking at him with a stern expression.

HE shifted awkwardly in his seat, “What” “I have… a mission for you, though it is one I worry might jeopardize your mental health if it goes wrong, and the mental health of my patient as well. If it goes right however I think it would do BOTH of you a world of good. What I would be asking you to do is…. Of questionable ethicality.”

That made him nervous. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean by asking you to jeopardize your mental health, I could be in serious violation of a couple of major statutes in my field, however assuming you do it willingly it might not be so bad.”

Despite his apprehension, his curiosity won out, “Go on?”

“Kanan.”

“Cannon, WHat?”

“No, Kanan, the name of the Drev on the ward.”

Adam shifted in his seat, stomach churning, “Oh…. go on.”

“Have you noticed he has a limp.”

“I…. suppose I haven't looked closely enough.”

“Well he does, and you want to guess where he got that limp?”

He had a pretty good guess, “The war?”

“Exactly.”

“And…..  I suppose you think….” He trailed off 

“He lost everything during the war Adam, his mate, his honor, his home. He is injured and exiled, and at this moment there are very few people in the galaxy that can even partially understand what he has gone through.” She leaned back in her chair looking at him, “I think, that having someone like you to speak with about what happened would be,.... Beneficial to both of you.” She paused, “DId you know that human and Drev psychology is surprisingly similar….”

He shook his head, “Well it is, and I think the two of you would recover faster if you had something to work on together.”

“With all due respect ma’am, my papers say I’m recovered.”

“The UNSC isn’t exactly known for their in depth medical reviews Lieutenant. I know they overlooked some things. Either way, it’s your choice.”

***

Adam stood in front of the door. His hands were sweating leaving the inside of the mitten’s sticky and unpleasant. He felt nauseous, but swallowed to hold it down eyes wide as he stared at the door. What was he doing? What was he doing?

He took  a deep breath.

Not being a coward, that’s what he was doing. He reached a hand up and knocked on the door before he could chicken out. There was silence and the knock seemed to echo down the hall for eternity. He waited, and waited, and waited, and assumed at some point maybe he had caught the large alien sleeping, but then the door opened.

His human knee went weak, and it was only the prosthetic that kept him standing as he stared up at the huge, hulking figure.

Adam was, tall 6,2 to be precise, but this hulking behemoth had to have been around or over nine feet tall, with blood red armor, and four bulging arms. It stared at him with bright golden eyes that brought echoes of his past welling up into his ears. He felt as if he was about to fall over, but then the creature turned and trundled back into the room, snapping Adam out of his trance.

He was breathing hard, and he thought about turning back, but instead, he stepped softly into the room leaving the door open just as crack as he moved inside.

The room around him was dark, and the floor was scattered with crumbled pieces of paper.

A box of markers lay on the ground to one side. He looked down to see he was stepping on a discarded piece of paper, and stepped back to look down, realizing the drawing there was of a tree, with striped bark and spiraling branches. It looked like something out of a Dr Seus book though he recognized it as an Anum/ Anin coiltree.

He crouched down to pick the paper up.

He looked up to see the Drev had returned to the edge of his cot and was sitting down, a shapeless form in the dark.

“You mind if I turn the light on?” Adam asked.

At first the Drev didn’t answer, but then he took a long breath through those strange holes in his neck and managed a deep, rumbling, “THe colors are too bright.”

Adam paused then, “Well neither of us can see very well in the dark and, he held up the page, drawing in the dark can’t be easy.”

There was a grunt.

“I’m going to turn the lights on.”

The Drev didn’t stop him, and as he did the room lit up showing even more pages scattered over the floor, all drawings of Anin some of them sloppy, some of them, quite artistic for a species he hadn’t thought practiced art.

He knelt down to examine a few of them, “Not bad.”

He picked up one of the pictures to examine it.

“This looks like the valley between the volcanic belts.”

The Drev turned to look at him, and when his eyes fell on Adam, the page slipped from his hand floating back to the floor.

The uncanny deepness of it’s golden eyes unnerved him.

“You were in the war?”

Adam’s hands were shaking, but he clasped them together to hide that fact.”

There was a long silence between them, and then he reached down pulling up the leg of his scrubs to reveal the titanium construction underneath, “I was.”

The Drev seemed surprised and looked up at him.

“You were one of them.” he said it very flatly, and Adam suddenly grew very worried that the Drev would kill him in revenge for being part of the operation  that decimated his people.

“One of your number killed my father.”

Fuck 

He went to back away but the Drev just looked down.

He sighed very deeply, “You were a strong and worthy opponent. We never had a chance.”

His voice was not bitter, or hate filled. There was some measure of regret behind his words but not enough to constitute anger. And when Adam looked at the creature, he could do nothing but feel sorry for him.

He quietly walked over trying to avoid the pages on the floor and then, unsure, sat next to the large figure.

Adam was not used to feeling small, but sitting next to the huge figure of the drev, he felt very tiny indeed.

The inside of the gloves were absolutely soaking, and with some measure of annoyance he tossed them off and onto the floor.

He wiped his palm on his shirt, reached out, fingers trembling and rested a hand on the Drev’s arm.

“You want to tell me about it? I.. My people didn’t exactly take the time to understand yours….. Now that I think about it it hardly seems fair.”

The Drev snorted ,”My mother believed that war was supposed to be fair, but my father understood that there was always inherent unfairness in battle…. The two of them didn’t get along towards the end. I think I agree with my father, to assume that your species would abide by our rules of combat was…. Ignorant of us.” The Drev turned to look at him, “Your species is much more efficient at war than mine is.”

His hands weren’t shaking anymore.

And he realized that, when he looked at this Drev, He didn’t see much of an enemy at all. 

But he did see someone broken by the war…. Just like him.

He looked down at his feet, and when he did his eyes came across another drawing. This one of a drev, It really only had an outline since it’s carapace seemed to be white, and the way it had been rendered with such delicate care, made it pretty clear to Adam who it might have been.

He picked it up quietly.

“You…. want to tell me about her?”

The Drev turned to look his eyes resting on the picture. Adam didn’t think up to this point he could read Drev facial expressions, but the welling of sadness in the creature’s face was so poignant that Adam felt his own chest tighten,

Damn the human’s heightened sense of empathy.

For a moment he thought the Drrev was going to tell him to get out, but, instead, he took the image and stared down at it, “Nechal…. Named after the moon….. She was the most glorious fighter I had ever seen in battle, strong, and graceful and powerful. She was not afraid to die, but she didn’t let that lower her guard. On the battlefield she was a goddess of war, and off…. She was…. Kind in ways that aren’t common among our people. I may have been attracted to her because of her fighting prowess, but I loved her because of the kindness she showed. Especially towards my sister… someone who needed kindness more than anyone I know.”

He took a very deep breath and when he spoke again his words were thick.

Could Drev cry? “In our people it is…. Custom not to mourn the dead who are lost in battle because their return to the spiritual realm will be glorious. It is a great honor to lose a mate in battle….” He looked down at his four hands, “But I do not feel honored…. I feel alone…. I miss her, ever day and every night I miss her, and I wish she hadn’t died…” He looked up and when he did Adam was struck by the expression of pain and grief on his face.

As if he was feeling the Drev’s pain in real time, he felt his chest clench again, and tears welled in his eyes. How could he not?

Anyone who didn’t feel the same must have had no feelings? 

“I was exiled because…. I could not follow her into the afterlife…. With my injury I should have given my body over to the fire, and maybe then I'd be with her, but I just…. I couldn’t do it. I miss her every day and yet I don’t have the strength to go to her…. I am a fraud among my people, a coward and a fraud and….

“Hey! Hold on.”

The Drev went quiet and turned to look at Adam who was now gripping his arm tight in one hand.

“You think she’d want to hear you say that.”

That seemed to take the Drev off guard and he stared at Adam with some measure of confusion.

“You said she was kind wasn’t she….. Well then I doubt she'd appreciate you talking about yourself like that.”

He was quiet for some time.

“Look I…. I lost my leg during the war to…. To one of your soldiers and. It’s messed me up for a real long time. Hell you scare the daylights out of me, but I’m moving forward.”

THe Drev frowned at him, “Scared of… us… you won?”

Adam laughed, “We didn’t win anything. Nobody won, a lot of people died and a lot of people were crippled, and for what? I think about that a lot, for honor? Honor. Well maybe I don’t understand what honor means because to me, it would be something worth dying over.”

The Drev contemplated him for a long time.

“We may have won but we did it with scared soldiers like me, and broken soldiers like me. I’m probably never going to recover from the war. That’s the difference between you and me, you guys can make it through war in one piece but me…. Humans… we may be good at war but it destroys us.”

He sighed, “I guess what I am trying to say is, instead of feeling sorry for what you can’t change, why not move forward. Do something you think is worth it, do something Ne-” he stumbled over the Drev word, “Nechal would think was worth it.”

He didn’t know what he was saying, he didn’t know if what he was saying even made sense. Nerves had always made him ramble. He knew he was talking too much but he didn’t know what else to do.

The Drev looked down, and Adam. as was his training made a bit of a decision.

He shut up.

Which was a feat in itself.

Reached over and hugged the larger alien. His arms didn’t make it anywhere close to wrapping around him, but he hoped that maybe it would help?

He didn’t know.

He was kind of just a raging idiot most of the time, so his plans were usually half assed at best.

The Drev stiffened and then relaxed. Adam’s head was resting against the creature’s huge planted shoulder. It felt like hugging corded steel cables.

He would have to say that being hugged by something with four arms was a bit of an experience. Most aliens didn’t usually hug back, they were more the recipient of hugs, but it seemed that the Drev wasn’t unfamiliar with the concept, either that or he learned fast, and damn Adam felt even smaller encircled in the arms of the huge alien.

Kanan could have crushed him if he wanted, but let him go not long after to Adam’s surprise and relief.

The Drev looked at him.

He looked back

“You are strange creatures.”

He gave a weak smile, forgetting the rule about showing teeth, “So they say.”

It was a bit of a gamble but things had worked out better than the psychologist could have hoped. Drev are more receptive to self reflection than humans are. Humans like to internalize things, and their brains become obsessive. Drev have more control over their minds in many cases than humans do, so Adam’s encouragement for Kanan to do something his dead mate would think worthwhile showed results almost immediately.

To Adam’s grudging pleasure, the Drev seemed to be recovering faster than he was.

And was well on his way to recovering completely when the communication came for Adam one night while he sat lying  on his bed next to Waffles, thinking about his future.

The pink roused him from near sleep and he sat up on one elbow to look at the time.

i t was only nine earth time, so he rolled onto his side and sat up, patching the communication through.

A light blue screen of holographic image filled his vision, and on the other side he could see Colonel Kelly sitting in front of him….. At least Colonel until he realized the star on her uniform.

His eyes widened slightly. He went to speak but she shook her head at him.

“I trust you are doing well Lieutenant.”

“Yes ma’am. I have no complaints.”

She nodded, “Good, good, I am sorry to intrude, but I am afraid this rest period is over for you. You are requested to return to earth on the next outgoing transport.”

He frowned and rubbed the back of his head, “Uh of course ma’am but…. Why?”

She stared at him long and hard, ‘I have a very important decision for you to make. It is one that is not going to be popular or easy, but I urge you to accept my request.”

He frowned and shook his head, “You aren't making sense, What is this all about?”

“Tensions are rising between our delegates and the GA, if we don’t do something soon, I am worried that this will devolve into infighting and eventually war. I have to work fast in order to stop this outcome, and you are the lynchpin that holds my plan together.”

“Me.” He squeaked.

“Yes, you, now Adam, be honest with me. What is your opinion on the GA and our involvement with them?”

He rubbed the back of his neck though his thoughts were adamant, “Cooperation wherever and however possible. We need them, and I believe they could due with being our allies, ma’am.”

“And if I gave you a job to try and reach that goal, would you take it?”

“I would do whatever I had to do ma’am.”

He was being truthful. 

She nodded her head.

“Good then, it’s your choice at the end of the day, but if we act now, we can change everything.”

[heliosthegriffin]

Prodigy AU, Part II

AN: I’ll think of a proper name soon enough.

Part I

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

The young Jaune Arc had a affinity for the woods, to him, it was his special place. The were no rules in the woods, there were no older siblings to boss him around, and there were no parents to ignore him. It was just him and the woods.

He could run around till he was out of breathe, he could scream till his throat hurt, say all kinds of nasty mean words and names that would get him the spanking of his short life, and best of all there was no one out here to judge him, he was by himself, and he liked it that way. 

He had found out early in his life if he wanted to be alone, and to not snap at anybody, the best place to go was the woods. If he tried to go to his room there would either be someone waiting for him wanting him to do something for them, or they’d show up after he decided he wanted to be left alone. He loved his family, he didn’t really like them all the time though.

So like uncounted times before when he got frustrated at his family he returned to the woods, were he could feel like he belonged for a little while, where he didn’t have to feel bad about being different from his sisters.

Jaune never really had a direct path in the woods, but he often had a destination he’d find his way to, one way or after retracing his steps that way.

It was a large clearing maybe thirty feet across and letting more than fifteen feet wide. It was also covered in leaves, tree branches, and small trees and other brush. Occasionally a small animal or bird landed here, but by and large, this was Jaune’s hiding spot, this is where he laid lowed when he was mad or sad or anything in between.

Jaune looked over his clearing let out a small sigh of happiness, and then took off his shirt, revealing his bony, and surprising pale visage to the world. He then got looked around for his stick, there were many like it, but this was the one that was his.

His was a simple gnarled branch, thick as his wrist and longer than his leg, that had also had the bark shaved off and was shaped into a sword. He had done all the work himself, with a knife he borrowed from his dad’s toolshed... That he borrowed without asking.

Jaune didn’t have a name for his wooden sword, it was just his training sword till he could use Crocea Mors, the sword of his ancestor.

Jaune briefly dreamed of using Crocea Mors, of drawing it’s steel into the air and slaying entire hordes of Grimm, of using it’s shield to block canonfire and toss back Goliaths!

But, the feeling of rough wood in his hands brought him back to earth. He gripped it with both hands and did a simple overhand cut, creating a pleasant whistling sound to his ears.

It still felt a little heavy, but he liked it that way, and if it got too light, he’d replace it again like with the others.

Nodding to himself, Jaune got to work with his daily routine. He put aside his sword and went to work with the strengthening excersies he looked up. Starting with Jumping jacks, squats, lunges, and ending with some exercises to limber up before he did his sword practice.

Jaune felt a pleasent burn throughout his body, and took some deep breaths, his face red with excertion, but he powered through, and grabbed his wooden sword.

He gripped his sword and then began his training, raising his wood to the air he started with one hundred overhead strikes.

“One ... Two... Three...” Continuing till he reached his set. Then began his work at going through sideways strikes, diagonal cuts, and then working his way through various thrusts, doing a hundred of each, counting out each one and restarting if he slipped up.

Jaune let his practice sword fall to the ground, his arms shaky with fatigue and very sore. He took a seat against a mossy tree, and let his body do it’s magic, before he did his final set.

Jaune wasn’t sure why he did this everyday, he didn’t particularly like it, it was kinda boring, he wasn’t impressing anyone, and he was always so sore!

He leaned harder into the moss, and wasn’t like anyone was going to see him and be like ‘Oh, look at him he’s so awesome!’ He let out a sigh, his sweat soaked bangs falling over his face.

He was unable to quit though, even now with his body sore and aching, he could feel the call of the wild through him granting him energy again, something about being out in the woods just seemed to refresh him, his legs were shaking in place both from working out and from wanting to get moving again. Somedays, it just felt like he never ran out of energy till his head hit the pillow. 

Jaune looked at the dense woods around him, and wondered if it as just park of playing in the woods so much? That maybe spending so much time around around the wilderness it stained himself with it.

Tossing his head around, getting rib of cricks in his neck, looking up at the grey-toned autumn sky, he had to be honesty that it was just as much mental as physical. He enjoyed becoming stronger, even if nobody notice, just a couple of months ago he struggled picking up a twenty-five pound weight with two arms, and now he could pick it up with one arm, even if he struggled to do so. 

There was also that worming sensation in the back of his head too, that idea of trying out one more new move, or doing one more set, the idea that he could just push himself that little bit further and break his limits.

He rose on shake knees, and took a couple deep breaths, the cool air touching his hot lungs, burning nose and sore throat.

It burned in a good way though, soon the shaking settle, and smile came across his young face. He could get back too it now.

He picked up his wooden blade, ready to do another set, but his would be a different set. He set his eye on a tree, one with marred back, the one he had been practicing on.

‘Thwack-

 Thwack-

 Thwack-,’

Jaune began his assault on the tree practicing all the strikes he could thinks of, doing full sets of each before switching the next.

“Ouch!” Jaune said dropping the sword, his hands and wrists throbbing. The vibrations being sent down the wood, left his hands a little numb and sore.

He waved his hands in the airs, waiting to regain some feeling before he could continue.

Feeling fortunately came back soon, and he grabbed his weapon. Finishing his sets. Taking a break to catch his breath once he was done.

Now that he was done with that part came his favorite.

It wasn’t doing another set really, it was just him switching between different strikes and chaining them together different way.

His freestyling went on till he felt a fat raindrop hit his head, the cold water startling him.

He looked up, seeing darker clouds moving in with sheets of rain falling behind if. 

Jaune grimaced, he’d have to leave. 

He huffed a sigh, and then struck one last powerful blow against the tree, a loud cracking echoing out.

His wooden sword had a large crack darting down it’s center, Jaune looked at and did what his juvenile mind thought was the funnest. He slammed the sword again and again against the bark till it broke in two.

Jaune felt a degree of pride in breaking his wooden sword. But, then felt annoyance that he’d have to make another one.

The rain then started coming down as Jaune swiped his shirt back on, soaking it near instantly. 

He was already soaked, so Jaune decided to just meander his way home and instead of trying to beat the storm home.

---------

Jaune ran through the rain towards his back door, tossing open the door and slamming it closed as he got in.

“Jaune Arc! What have I told you about slamming the door!”

Jaune jumped as his mother yelled at him.

Jaune looked into the kitchen where his mother sat next to his father, and the rest of his family around the table.

His mother did not look pleased.

‘Uh-oh.’

“Um, you said not to do it?” Jaune said carefully.

His mother looked at him sharply, “I believe I said, I’d take a switch to your behind, if you did it again.”

Jaune looked at his mother and then at the door, weighing his options. One, take his mother anger, or two, go without dinner. 

His stomach growled, making the decision for him.

‘Traitor,’ He thought at himself.

Juniper Arc looked at her messy, dirty, and wet son.

Then sighed, “Go get cleaned up and then come down here for supper.”

Jaune looked somewhat surprised. His mother had never been one to shy away from punishment.

Juniper called out as Jaune walked up stares to the bathroom. “But, remember if you slam that damn door again, I will take a switch to your behind, understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

He thought he could hear his sisters laughing at him as he walked up stairs.

The shower was unsurprisingly cold, his sister took frequent showers and that had left him without hot water in the past, and he wasn’t allowed to use the master shower in his parents bedroom, as that was full of adult stuff.

By the time he got back to the table, his mother was doing dishes and his sisters were nowhere in sight, not even Joan, but she had become more and more out of sight over the last couple of months. Sometimes it felt like he was only one who realized he was still here.

Jaune ate his dinner silently, eating a large portion of roast beef, mash potatoes, greens, a couple rolls, and a couple pieces of blueberry cobbler.

He heard laughing.

He looked up to his mother.

“Boy, if you keep eating so much, I might have to charge ya.”

Jaune didn’t think it was that funny, but he faked a laugh. “If you don’t want me to eat so much, you shouldn’t cook so much!” Jaune said trying to play along.

“Heh, alright then,” His mother than looked over the table at the much emptier table. “Well, with you around at least the dishes are easier to clean, now are you ready to help your mom clean up?”

Jaune wanted to roll his eyes, as though it was ever a question on whether he’d help or not, it was an unwritten Arc family rule, that the last to the table helped clean it up.

Not that he mind spending time with his mother. 

Helping his mother do the dishes didn’t take long, the CCT connection was spotty on a good day, with a storm about it was near zero and what was left was being hogged by his sisters. So, Jaune busied himself with videos he had downloaded on his scroll, watching Hunters fight Grimm or Criminal.

He wanted to be like that one day.

AN: Most of these beginning chapter will be about training, how Jaune changes his training, and how he increases his training, but, it’ll also feature frequent time-skips, as I doubt anybody wants to read a hundred chapters of expostion on training and conditioning. I’ll try to do some stuff with the Arc family, but that kinda hard considering only Saphron really exists, and the other have no set personality. So I’ll either keep them to a minimum or make some OC’s.

[franniebanana]

CQL Rewatch - Ep 17

For once, I agree with Jiang Cheng. Wei Wuxian probably spends way too much time thinking about alcohol. Yanli is, as usual, completely delighted by him.

I can’t really even imagine what this would be like for Wei Wuxian. Coming back to the place that used to be your home to search for who you consider your brother, having no idea if he’s dead or alive, and if he’s alive, what state he’s in. Every place houses one memory, if not hundreds. Wei Wuxian spent the better part of his live at Lotus Pier, over a decade, and in the span of a few hours, it’s just gone. I want to say that it gets burned in the book (but I can’t say that for certain)—however, that does make more sense when later on in CQL, they talk about Jiang Cheng rebuilding. Honestly, rebuilding doesn’t really make sense if all they had to do was replace a few doors and hang some more Jiang Clan lotuses.

You know what? I actually kind of love how this parallels a later scene. I never really thought of it before: we have Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning, and Jiang Cheng (when later on we swap out Jiang Cheng for Lan Wangji), sitting in a boat near Lotus Pier. Here we get Wei Wuxian, having been forcibly expelled from his home, while very much in charge of Jiang Cheng, who is unconscious. Later on, Wei Wuxian is unconscious, again having been forced to leave what once was his home. In that case, he makes the decision to leave, for one because he is unwelcome, but also because he doesn’t need that home anymore. He has a new idea of home with Lan Wangji, who loves and supports him.

This comparison is interesting because you see that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji (and even Wen Ning, for goodness’s sake) are willing to cradle their loved ones, risk life and limb for them, and Jiang Cheng just isn’t. Even when he goes looking for Wei Wuxian later on, it’s predicated more on his need for revenge than for saving Wei Wuxian. And again there, we see that his motive and Lan Wangji’s motive are very, very different.

Worst hangover ever. Omg can you imagine being asleep for days and then waking up with your head on a wooden table? Can you imagine the back ache you’d have from being hunched over all that time? Oh my god, truly, it sounds horrific. And this is what innocent little Wen Ning did, hahahaha. Not that I feel bad for any of these assholes—they definitely deserved it. If Wen Ning had gotten caught, though, he would have been executed for treason, I’m sure. It shows you what a huge risk that kid took to help Wei Wuxian and his family—a huge risk. And not only did he risk his own life, he also risks his sister’s life, because he begs her to help as well. It’s unsurprising that Wen Qing is so upset by this, since her one goal is to keep her brother safe, and then he goes and puts both of their lives on the line.

I like how this whole little scene, from the moment Wen Qing steps out and sees Wen Ning and the others standing there, to the point when she tells the guards to stand down, has no dialogue. Neither Wei Wuxian nor Wen Qing speak, but it’s clear that Wei Wuxian is threatening hers and Wen Ning’s lives if she gives them up here. They could have added some whispered dialogue or whatever, but I’m glad they did not, because it’s so powerful—seeing Wei Wuxian shaking with rage and fear is definitely the highlight of the scene. Wen Ning looking at a complete loss is also great. Wen Qing’s actress should have done that scene over—she is just not expressive enough, especially opposite someone like Xiao Zhan, who does such a good job in these emotional scenes. Either way, I do like how cool Wen Qing is at the end, order the guards to back off, while still holding Wei Wuxian’s gaze. This woman has no fear.

I hate this outfit. It is the worst thing that Wei Wuxian wears in the entire series, and that includes the bloody rags he’s wearing when he wakes up in Mo Xuanyu’s body. I don’t know where this outfit came from. Did Wen Ning give it to him? Why? Were his other clothes not fit to wear anymore? Everyone else is in the same clothes—why did he have to go through an outfit change? And what is with that cape? What a pain! Jesus, I’m sorry, but I hate this costume. Normally Wei Wuxian looks amazing, but this is a stinker.

This part is pretty hard to watch: Jiang Cheng being so unresponsive, Wei Wuxian putting on a brave face and trying to accentuate the positive. He knows that Jiang Cheng’s Golden Core is gone at this point, but he doesn’t want to dwell on that. He wants to find a way to help Jiang Cheng, even at the expense of his own future. His request for Jiang Cheng to try again is so sweet—try again and Wei Wuxian will act more affected by it—anything to make Jiang Cheng feel even a little bit better. Not to belittle what Jiang Cheng is going through (because that would be awful—he’s feeling his life is over—how can he be a sect leader, how can he do anything without his Golden Core?), I can’t help but truly identify with Wei Wuxian. I don’t think he’d be human if part of him didn’t feel a little responsible for what happened, even though it really wasn’t his fault (the Wens wanted control and the outcome would have been the same, anyway). He’s probably going over and over in his mind what he could have done differently from the moment the Wens showed up, until when Jiang Cheng ran off on his own. Like most people who really care for one another, Wei Wuxian really wishes that it had been him instead. I think sometimes it’s almost harder to watch someone else suffer than to suffer yourself, especially in this case, because Wei Wuxian can’t do anything for him.

I really love how she reacts to being yelled at and told to go away. She’s taken Jiang Cheng and his family in, given him medicine and food, sheltered them all from their enemies—she’s done all of this, knowing that, if caught, it would mean death for her and her brother. And after Jiang Cheng screams at her, she simply leaves, her head completely cool. It’s unclear to me whether she ever felt anything for Jiang Cheng (some people argue that she 100% did—I really don’t know), but at this moment, she stays level-headed while he is blinded by hatred. It doesn’t matter that she has done all those things for Jiang Cheng, because she’s part of the Wen Clan. But Wen Qing isn’t ruled by her emotions like he is. And I love how she approaches the situation, taking the time to tell her brother how they don’t ever kill—they are healers and have been for generations. It’s such a good message that even in the face of such hostility, she can maintain her duty to continue healing him until they have to leave.

What a fucking mess. At this point, how does he even know what he’s read and what he hasn’t read?

I can’t really tell you how much I love this little scene between Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian. It’s hard to even put it in the words, but I feel like I run the gamut of emotions from joy to sadness. Wei Wuxian is doing everything in his power to figure out a way to help Jiang Cheng: he’s hungry, he’s exhausted, he’s depressed, he’s anxious, he’s afraid—and of course Jiang Yanli is all of those things, on top of still recovering from her illness. The joy on his face when he thinks of asking Lan Wangji for help—it makes me smile and breaks my heart at the same time. It’s this fleeting moment where he remembers his old life—their old lives—and then reality sinks in. It seems like Yanli thinks he’s hysterical or something, because as he’s insisting he can reach out to Lan Wangji, she’s insisting that he’s tired and needs rest. She’s trying to ground him to reality, because there’s no way he can get in touch with Lan Wangji with the way things are. Where would he even find him? And Yanli, ugh, my heart breaks for her—she’s just trying so hard to keep her little family together.

And then Wei Wuxian says he thinks it’s his fault, and Yanli loses it. I love her for this insistence that it doesn’t matter whose fault it is. It doesn’t matter—what matters is that it happened and now they have to live on. I mean, she must know that her brother blames Wei Wuxian for this and I think to hear it from Wei Wuxian makes her even more upset. But it’s so true. Placing blame on someone else might make you feel better for a time, or allow you to justify your actions or enact your revenge, but it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change that their parents are still dead. It doesn’t change that Lotus Pier was taken over by the Wen Clan. All of that is still there, even if Jiang Cheng and Yanli placed all the blame on Wei Wuxian.

Sorry this one was super short, all. This arc kind of drags in CQL. I think they should have left more mystery, because it’s pretty clear what they’re about to do here. Anyway, two more episodes until Lan Wangji comes back, I think? Ugh…too many.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 |

[razorblade180]

The Real You pt6

[Warning, Parts 1-5 are really old. So their quality is eh...]

Love sucks, that’s the feeling our emotionally wrecked trio was having anyways. Each of them sat quietly while looking at an empty cake tray and devoured bowls of ice cream. They must’ve scarfed down enough sweets to make even Ruby sick, yet not even their slightly upset stomach could compare to the pain in their chest. Love sucked, but here they were, wishing for a way to grab a hold of it with both hands.

Yang sat on her couch all alone and stared at Jaune, who laid on her floor. His eyes fixated on the never ending weeping of the heavens outside. A fitting mood really. Yang still felt like letting her tears flow just a little bit. She couldn’t believe that she got cheated on, again. Technically this would be the first time but the series of events and feelings were scarily familiar to what happened with her partner that it was hard not to draw certain comparisons.

Jaune finally noticed her gaze and stared back. He could tell just from one look how much she was trying to keep herself together for everyone’s sake. He had no doubt that he had truly broken Yang’s heart and that in return made him feel utterly sick beyond belief. How could he do something so awful, sleeping with Neo? The feelings towards the girl in question only made it worse. It was one thing to give your body to someone else that you weren’t dating, but it was far worse when you were also emotionally invested. Jaune couldn’t bear to see the look of sorrow on her face. He’d turn away but Jaune Arc would not run from his mistakes. His lack of judgement got him into this so he would take all forms of punishment to show how much he ached from his decision. Yang Xiao Long deserved better.

Neo sat at the table, watching them both. The girl methodically fiddled with her empty spoon as she tried to deal with her guilt. Why was being a good person so hard? It wasn’t a foreign concept, not completely. Treat others the way you wanted to be treated, don’t let negative thoughts decide your actions, use your talents to better the world; Neo wasn’t sure that last one was possible. The girl pursued a man she loved for selfish reasons, knowing good will those moments of bliss would rot and decay in no time at all, poisoning the very person she wanted to impress.

“You’d think after all those sweets, the three of us would be on any sort of high right now?” Neo said, her head resting on her arms. She didn’t care what response they’d give her. Any words were better than silence. She knew that better than anyone. “Where do we go from here?”

“Dunno.” Yang said, “I can barely keep my own thoughts in order.”

“Share em. No use holding anything in, especially against me. I’ll take the punches, physically or verbally.”

“Okay then. I hate this, this...ache. I hate how much hurting you both are putting me through to the point I wanna scream.” Yang’s nails dug into the cushion beneath her. “Worst part of all? I hate how scared I am. It feels like I’m only a few more events away from living in this apartment with no one but my sister and possibly Weiss to visit me; when they aren’t too busy being in love. Just like…”

The blonde bruiser’s eyes shut tight. Tears managed to escape and her lip quivered fiercely. Seconds passed by before she opened her eyes and looked at her boyfriend. Was he still her boyfriend? She guessed that was to be determined later. Only one thing was at the forefront of her wary mind.

“I want to still be with you Jaune, I do. But for the life of me I can’t think of a way to even begin to go through this. Apologizing doesn’t cut it. Punishing or making some kind of deal with Neo to leave doesn’t fix anything either. I’m so furious but I hate the fact that letting you go is the last thing I want.” Yang clenched her chest tightly. It felt as if everything was pulling her apart and trying to keep her together all at once. “I love you so please, end this yourself.”

Jaune’s eyes widened in shock. “What?”

“You came over here so I can chew you out and break up right? Well if you want this to officially end then you’ll have to do it yourself because I’m dumb enough to still want you.”

“You aren’t dumb.” Neo spoke up, “And I’m the last person to be talking about being fair or discussing hypocrisy, but it’s close minded to think making Jaune shoulder that choice isn’t a form of punishment. Even a blind person could easily see that he loves you too; more than anything. More than anyone.”

It hurt but it was the truth. If it came down to it, Jaune would pick Yang in any situation and Neo would be left out to dry. His feelings for the petite girl are true, but that didn’t matter as long as he had Yang. Not that she could blame him.

“Honestly, I’m jealous of you Yang. Not just because you’re good, but because you are what I want to be. Maybe that’s why I could do what I did so easily? I was tired of feeling beneath you, the girl I wish I could be.”

Neo stood up from the table and looked at Yang’s tired red face before looking at Jaune and shaking her head. “Sorry, for wrecking what you have. We both know I’m terrible for you. If I could make a good guy like you cheat on someone like her then I’m clearly bad.”

“I’m not as good as you think. I would’ve pushed you away if I was.” Jaune sighed. This was going nowhere, fast. They were all about to keep looping this cycle of hating themselves. “Stop treating me like I’m perfect, I’m not.”

“Never said you were, it’s obvious to see though I’m making cracks in your demeanor that weren’t there before. Since I’ve already gone this far when it comes to being a shitty person, no reason for me to start considering the requests both of you have. I’m gonna do what I want, leave.”

Yang let out a groan of irritation. “Neo-”

“You have no intention to stop loving him so what other option could there possibly be? Correct me if I’m wrong but you’re not the type to share, are you?” It was faint but Neo was sure Yang could hear it, the little plea that had escaped in her voice. Neo would love nothing more than to be wrong right now. She wasn’t entirely sure of Yang’s past relationship but it had obviously done a number on the girl.

Yang could hear that twinge of hope in Neo’s voice. She could even see the twinkle in her eye. Neo was practically begging for a life line, a reason to believe that she didn’t have to commit to her claim of walking away. Sadly, Yang could only stare, and Jaune knew exactly why such a question was risky to ask.

“Sorry, I can’t say that I am. That situation is...it burned me before.” Yang said, resisting the painful memories that tried to surface.

Neo’s face went pale. Well, that was it. Her final possible tether to the life and person she wanted to be with, severed in no time flat. She did her best to sound indifferent about it.

“Oh, I see. I...wasn’t aware that there were some rough patches in that subject. Then I guess… I guess there’s nothing left to do. Jaune…”

“Neo…” He knew better than to try to change her mind or make this tougher than it already was. He didn’t have an answer for all three of them after all. It would’ve been selfish and inconsiderate to speak as if he did. Even saying goodbye felt way too...inappropriate, in a way.

Neo put on the fakest smile both Jaune and Yang had ever seen in their life. “Thanks for believing in me, both of you. Even though I flopped the moment I tried to change. It was nice, having someone take the chance anyways.”

With her feelings in the open, Neo turned towards the door and grabbed the knob. Her hand stayed on that knob, her fingers refusing to grab it as her entire body trembled. She knew they could hear her sniffle. Neo knew that she was taking entirely too long, but even with nothing left to say, leaving felt so painful. She took one final breath and then found the will to step out of the apartment, the sound of her footsteps sprinting the moment the door closed behind her.

Yang found no joy in seeing her leave, only more ache. She turned to Jaune who was still staring at the door, his eyes filled with a new kind of sorrow.

“If you’re wondering what things would’ve been like if I had been the one to pick, I would’ve chosen you. Don’t think for a second I’d willingly walk out of your life.” Jaune said, tearing up. “Even so, I would’ve felt terrible leaving Neo’s life. This might sound a little egotistical, but I can’t see her bouncing back from this. Not alone. Not without us.”

“Us?”

“I may have given her the dream of changing, but you were clearly the goal post.”

“Don’t put that on me.” Yang said weakly, “What would’ve happened if she did change? She would still love you, and I would still be worried about losing you.”

Jaune bit his bottom lip out of anxiety. Of course none of them were able to find a solution, they all had baggage and walls that they tried their best not to hit. Jaune was wary, but that might’ve been the problem. Neo never pulled her punches and this day had already been the absolute worst, so why not keep pushing? That’s the thing about baggage, you gotta unpack it eventually. Jaune only wished that it wouldn’t come back to bite him.

“I’m not Blake…”

Yang’s head jolted up. Jaune didn’t need to look at her to know Yang was staring at him with scarlet eyes that felt like they were burning a whole into the side of his face.

“Don’t say her name.”

“Why? It’s not like you haven’t been thinking about what happened with her this entire time. Yang you won’t lose m-”

“YOU DON’T THINK SHE DIDN’T SAY THE SAME THING!?” Yang said, screaming as she stood up in frustrated anger. Jaune had struck a nerve he knew was still very much was like an open wound. He finally looked at the girl, she had his undivided attention.

“You don’t believe that she didn’t reassure me that I had nothing to worry about!? That’s how it starts. They ease your fears, tell you that things are mutual, that feelings are equal; that’s not how that works! No matter how much attention she gave me, it was obvious her mind was on Sun. The looks, the talk, the stories, so I do what anybody would do and confront her about it. We talked and we talked and we talked and we talked until finally I believed that things could work out. Sharing wouldn’t be so hard if everyone really is on the same page right? All three people give the same amount they gain right!? Well that’s not how it works!!! It felt like I was fighting to find a reason to even be around them. Slowly but surely, a wall was being built but bringing up the dynamic again after so many discussions just got so…I was tired Jaune. Her words felt so rehearsed, so lifeless. Up until we have one more discussion because I just don’t think we’ve gotten it right yet. That’s when her words sounded true. When she looked at me and said ‘I can’t do this anymore’ and I knew instantly I was out of the picture. Blake had chose Sun over me a long time ago, I was just stupid enough to ignore the signs! So tell me Jaune, how the hell would this end up any different!? How could you look at me and say you won’t need me around anymore!?”

Yang’s chest rose up and down heavily as she tried to breathe. She refused to be slowly pushed out again, to have her feelings subtly get abandoned for another. She watched Jaune stare at her, his face expression giving off nothing but sorrow, or was it pity?

“Well!?” Yang sniffled, “Say something for fucks sake!”

Jaune walked closer to her. Close enough reach out and wipe the numerous tears that riddled her face. “Because my love for you isn’t fragile.”

He said nothing else. Jaune left her speechless for a moment while he walked towards the door and opened it, scaring her a little.

“Jaune what are-”

“I think a little space right now to think about today is needed. I need that space, but I will come back. Don’t ever doubt that.” Jaune opened the door. “I messed up today, I know that. But don’t you ever doubt my love for you. I swear it never runs low.”

Yang said nothing. She simply watched him close the door. The girl fell back onto her couch, she had to be minutes away from vomiting. Jaune was right about one thing, she did need some space from this situation. As well as some perspective. Yang dialed her scroll and practically begged for her sister to pick up. Thankfully, she did.

“Hey sis, what’s going on?” The cheerfulness of Ruby’s voice felt like the one sunlight on this gray day.

“Hey Ruby. Y..You free to talk?”

“Always, what’s up? You sound stuffy.”

“Oh you know…Jaune cheated on me today.”

Part 5

[pollylynn]

Title: Nautilus WC: 1600

“So that leaves you with what?” — Vincente Delgado, Always (4 x 23)

Her confessions, from the beginning, proceeded in tight, tiny spirals that resemble nothing so much as the Yellow Brick Road. She came to her first therapist sleep-deprived and half-starved. Obsession, they had mutually decided, was the problem—the entirety of her college years aiming toward the academy, toward homicide, toward autonomy to pursue her mother’s killers to the ends of the earth. In her down time she tried to slay her father’s dragons. She’d convinced herself that anything less was the gravest insult to her mother’s memory. 

She left her first therapist with a switch thrown, a door slammed and padlocked from the outside, with years of her life utterly torched, their remains buried at a crossroads to keep their restless spirits from following her. She’d left her first therapist nowhere near the outer spiral that would have cut across the border of Munchkin City. 

And then he had come crashing into her life and the next confessions came—they had revealed themselves, really, not least of all to her. These were confessions not so easy to categorize. Fury certainly led the way, cold and implacable fury that, itself, hid behind an it’s-the-principle-of-the-thing argument. In her absolute isolation that first summer, this was her mantra—that it should not have mattered one bit if he reasons for leaving behind her mother’s murder were good, bad or indifferent.  She—she—had made the decision to leave it behind and his utter disrespect for that more than justified the fury. 

Beyond that fury, though, was misery rattling its bones in the dark. It was more by accident than design that tough love and the Al-Anon way were an appropriate response to her father’s addiction, and later, his recovery; her abandonment of her mother’s case had accomplished nothing. 

Obsession had come roaring back that second  summer. If she’d had the mental or emotional space to devote to it, she might have wondered about the Yellow Brick Roundabout, the Yellow Brick Cul de Sac, the Yellow Brick Dead Fucking End. If there had been anyone to confess to that second summer—that third summer during the sliver each day she wasn’t knocked out by pain or painkillers or both—she might have bored herself to tears with the epic retread. 

Burke was a fresh start. Working with him was supposed to be a fresh start on a less garish, more sensible path, but it’s been the Yellow Brick Road all over again. It’s been Things to Do in Munchkinland when You’re Emotionally Dead, with her showing up in the first instance  to enable her obsession and get back on the job, in the second to confess to obsession all over again, in the third to confess, finally, to the sheer scale of her obsession and to take stock of all the things it had kept, it has kept, it does keep her from having for years—joy, proper mourning, friendship, companionship. Love. 

But this—even this confession—turns out to be a Yellow Brick Switchback. Her meek declaration that she wants to be more, her earnest conviction that she was ready at last to try, all her apparently noble intentions have turned out to be cover for a monster thirteen years and who knows how many confessions in the making. One address, one connection and it comes roaring forth. 

She knows it. She has always known its ugliness, its cruelty. She has, after all, been the one responsible for its care and feeding all this time. She has lived with it lurking in the raw, ribbon-sliced sections of her soul that have never healed—that she has never allowed to heal, knowing this day would come when Marisol Castañeda or someone like her would stand in her way and she would need it, this festering, ferocious, merciless beast. 

She has always known, she has never confessed, she has nurtured this. She has secretly nurtured exactly this, and still there is a part of her beating its fists against the door, when the beast reverses field and takes control. There is a part of her—the true her that travels the Yellow Brick Road in a spiraling path of tiny, arduous steps— that tries to rise up from the ashes scattered at a crossroads. 

It is the part of her that falls quiet, however briefly, at the disgust in his voice—Beckett, that’s enough. It’s the part of her that feels shame at such a profound betrayal of everything she has been in her professional life—everything she has been in the world since her mother was murdered. It’s the part of her that aches so miserably and throbs with fear at every lacerating word between them when he comes to make confessions of his own.

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

There may be a moment her future when she rolls her eyes at this—the sheer melodrama of her remaking. A stock footage near-death experience. She may laugh it off or deny it with vigor that events transpired in that way at all. She may forbid him—absolutely forbid him—from telling the damned story all over again, making the rooftop higher and higher each time, reducing the number of fingers she was holding on by until they’re well into negative territory. 

There may be a moment when it will seem as though the realization that has set her life on a genuinely new course has arrived in practically unbelievable fashion, but for now, excitement ripples through her like vibration across a drum skin as she imagines forbidding him anything—it ripples through her as she imagines him. 

She is annoyed by all the things standing in her way, all the boxes she has to tick before she can go to him and confess, go to him and beg forgiveness, go to him and make the case that she is transformed—that the woman he has waited patiently for has arrived at last. 

She is annoyed by Gates and the theater of handing over gun, then badge, though It does pluck at mightily uncomfortable things. As she fingers the raised numbers on her gold shield, she imagines Marisol Castañeda’s terror hiding behind her fury, her toughness, her practicality, her survival instinct. Her vision comes, for a moment, in black and red blocks as though the heaving bulk of the dying monster within her is stealing one last look at the world. She—the actual she just emerging, blinking, into the light—punctuates its death rattle with another bit of melodrama. 

Keep it. I resign. 

It’s a a huge, sweeping gesture accompanied by the satisfying thonk of the heavy badge landing on the wood of the Captain’s desk. It is a hard and irrevocable turn that she has just taken off this godforsaken Yellow Brick Road, and it sends another drum ruffle of excitement tingling over her skin.  

There are more annoying tasks. There is her desk, her personal things, and the staples of a life lived right her for more than eighty per cent of the time since the beginning, since Obsession Phase #1. There is her gym bag, which smells even more rank than she remembers it, but it’s what she has on hand, and so in go the elephants, her tiny candy dish, the one or two photos she has tucked away. 

There is a trip home and a costume change. There are more costume changes than she will ever, ever, ever admit to, and then there is a pilgrimage. 

It is here that she has been as honest as she could be, within the limits of her traumatized soul. It’s here that she finally admitted to herself how essential he is to her life. It is her that she made clear her intention to live—to really live. 

She half expects him to walk up and wrap his strong hands around the chains of the swing next to hers. She half expects him to drop into the seat and start pumping his legs, disappearing into the thick bank of fog on the arc of his ascent, coming back into view as their swings draw side by side. She half expects herself to lean over and confess that she’d fantasized—she had fully imagined—those hands being the ones to pull her up and back into the real world. 

He doesn’t appear in the moment, of course. She has to go to him. She has to make a beginning, and that is more than fine. It’s as it should be, though she’s impatient with the logistics—with the unanswered phone and the door man who does not seem at all confident that this drowned rat of a woman has Go right up, Detective privileges. Go right up, Ms. Beckett—she tries it on for size, even though she’s flat out impatient now. 

Still she swims the moat and scales the battlements. She arrives and realizes that she might fail at this. Tonight, in this doorway, she might fail. She entertains the possibility for the first time and it seems all too real. The monster may simply have done too much damage. He may never be able to trust. She may never be able to trust. 

It is a possibility, terrifying and heartbreaking. It is infuriating and possible. It is a possible outcome for the here and now, but it changes nothing. 

She has come to confess at last, and it’s as if he knows already. It’s as if he has memorized the lines and she knows hers by a new-made heart. 

You. I just want you. 

A/N: Things that aren’t things cancel out things. It’s math, which is not a thing. 

images via homeofthenutty

[treksickfic]

Comfort in the Little Things

An Election Day fic for you, even if you are not in the States. There seems to be a collective sense of angst in the air and I needed to read a cozy story; maybe you do, too. 

Featuring TOS Spock and McCoy, but not Spones. Self-avowed “bulletproof” McCoy is miserable with a case of Kamaraazite Flu and Spock steps in to help. A short and sweet fic at just around 1800 words.

My immense gratitude to @soupandtissues​ for the beautiful stories that have comforted me and inspired me to write my own.

The door chime startled Leonard McCoy from a restless half-slumber. He considered standing and crossing to the door but who was he kidding? He lacked the strength to even roll himself over in bed. 

“Come,” he croaked, as loudly as he could, and the single word triggered another coughing fit. He propped himself up on one elbow, all the better to not choke to death, he thought, hand pressed to his chest. As the paroxysm gradually passed, he sagged back to the bed, sweating and shivering but too exhausted to do anything to ease his discomfort.  

He closed his eyes when he heard measured footsteps approaching the spot where he lay in misery. Chapel again, or M’Benga. Well, he didn’t feel like talking or listening to their chatter and he certainly didn’t need anyone hovering over him. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep, whoever it was would leave.

“So it appears you are not bulletproof after all, Doctor.”

McCoy’s eyes flew open at the deep, measured voice.

“Spock,” he said, resignation in his tone. He’d changed his mind. He’d prefer his over-solicitous nurse or brisk Dr. M’Benga to this. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

“When Captain Kirk expressed his concern that you may be affected by the recent outbreak of Kamaraazite flu you said, and I quote, ‘I’ve been in Starfleet Medical for thirteen years, I’m bulletproof by now.’ Clearly you are not.” 

McCoy tugged at his blanket to cover himself, feeling exposed under the unrelenting gaze of Spock. 

“Kamaraazite flu is a nasty business,” he said. “Thought I was going to sneeze out a vital organ at one point.”

“Patients have been known to do just that. But in your case it was not the virulency of the flu itself, it was overwork and neglecting to administer the serum to yourself in order to ensure an adequate supply for the crew.”

“Hubris, in other words.”

“Not hubris, Doctor. You simply made the mistake common to senior officers, assuming you are indestructible.”

He started to respond and then felt a deep, burning ache in his sinuses. He drew in a quick breath and then folded forward with a powerful sneeze. That might have been my spleen, he thought.  When he dared to look up, Spock was standing near the bed, holding out a box of tissues with one hand.  McCoy snatched them from him.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a handful and blowing his nose. “For the tissues and for the pep talk. Now what do you want? Did you come here to laugh in my face? Maybe mock my puny human immune system?”

“Not at all, Doctor. I find nothing about your illness amusing. I simply wondered if you were in need of any assistance. Your cough has been quite persistent this evening.”

“And how would you know?”

“Our quarters share a common wall. I have been aware of your distress for some time now.”

“Have you now? Took you long enough to check on me.”

“I assumed you wished to be alone.”

McCoy snorted, which triggered a cough. “Typical heartless Vulcan logic,” he said when he was able.

“Not logic, Doctor,” Spock replied. “A simple inference. You shouted at the last person who attempted to check on you, indicating a strong desire to be left alone.”

“Well, I don’t need your help. And I do want to be alone, so you can leave now.” 

“Are you certain? The quality and intensity of your cough is showing evidence of increasing chest congestion and inflammation, but yet you seem unable to clear your airway.”

McCoy tried to respond but curled in on himself as another fit overtook him. He coughed harshly into a handful of tissues, aware of the deep ache in his lungs, and more concerning, the constriction and the rattle when he tried to take a deep breath. 

Damn it if he isn’t right. 

“Is there any effective medical treatment or does the illness have to run its course?”

McCoy gestured vaguely toward a table in the front room. 

“There,” he managed to wheeze out after a few moments, gesturing toward a table in the front room. “Two hyposprays.” 

For some reason, he’d left the sprays out of reach. By the time he’d staggered in from Sickbay, his fever had been spiking and he wasn’t thinking straight, just dropped his whole kit on the nearest surface. By the time the fever broke, he’d been too exhausted to fetch any of it. 

He flopped backward against a stack of pillows that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. He felt drained of all energy and was only vaguely aware of Spock’s movements around his quarters. If he could just get some sleep, that’s all he needed to throw this off. 

“Is there a preferred location for administration, Doctor?” He reluctantly opened his eyes to see Spock standing nearby, disengaging the hypospray lock with his thumb.

McCoy tilted his head to one side. “Right there,” he said, indicating the exposed arc of his neck. “About the same place you’d give me a nerve pinch.” Not a bad idea at that, instant unconsciousness, but the corophizine would provide the same effect in about twenty minutes or so.  He sighed, echoing the hiss of the hypospray. 

Spock’s face showed just a hint of distaste, likely a conditioned response from the many times he’d been sick after receiving medication. He administered the second spray and then strode decisively from the room, depositing the hyposprays back into their cases. McCoy turned his head to watch as he busied himself in the small kitchen area. Spock returned to the sleeping quarters carrying a heavy glass mug, steam swirling from the top.

“What’s this?” McCoy said, accepting the drink from him.. 

“It is tea, with lemon and honey. I understand many humans enjoy it when they are experiencing symptoms of an upper respiratory illness.”

McCoy took a cautious sniff, not that he could actually smell anything, and looked up at Spock. 

“Not the Vulcan swill you drink, is it? That stuff could strip paint off a wall.”

“Vulcan spice tea is appropriate for more refined palates. This is plain black Oolong with Andorian honey and lemon. You should find it unassuming enough for your tastes.”

“I’m not sure if I should be insulted or not.”  He closed his eyes at the first careful swallow. “It’s good,” he said. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Spock perched at the edge of the bed. “Whatever you may think of me, Doctor, I do not wish to see you suffer unnecessarily if I can assist you. If that means making you a cup of tea when you are ill, I am willing to do so.”

When he opened his mouth to reply, McCoy began to cough again, a combination of the medication and the tea having the desired effect. He felt the cup lifted from his hand and heard the clink on the bedside table as it was set aside. His cough was productive now, and he felt a gentle hand settle on his back and rest there, unmoving. No unnecessary movement or sentimental patting, just a welcome gesture of support and comfort. 

He could barely catch a breath in between violent coughs and when he did, he felt the deep rattle of congestion shifting in his chest. It must be disgusting to listen to.  He scrabbled for the box of tissues Spock had given him earlier and felt it placed in his hands. He kept his head turned away as he struggled, trying to make a neat pile as he went through nearly the entire box of tissues. The fit seemed unending but finally he was able to take a deep breath without triggering another cough and he sank back to the pillows, covered in sweat, head pounding, chest aching, but feeling some relief. 

Spock disposed of the tissues and now sat with a wet cloth in hand, a look of utter concentration on his face as he carefully bathed McCoy’s forehead and temples. 

“I can do that,” he said, reaching for the cloth but without much conviction in his voice. It was humiliating to be tended to by Spock, but he felt too weak to do much about it. 

“Lie still, Doctor.” he said, running the damp washcloth along the sides of his neck.  

“Y’know, if you’re going to play nursemaid, you can use my first name.”

Spock made no response, folding the cloth and setting it near the mug when he’d finished. 

“You’d have made a good physician, Spock.”

He raised one eyebrow. “How so?”

“You’re calm, you don’t panic. You do what needs to be done with no fuss. Guess that’s what comes from having no emotions. Wish I could manage it.” 

“Vulcans do experience emotions. So powerful that if we were to allow our emotions to dominate, it would mean a return to the savagery of our old ways. We are taught control from a young age.”  

Spock had alluded to the old ways before but McCoy had difficulty imagining him as anything but cool and unflappable. But maybe, just maybe, in those mysterious eyes, there was a hint of what was possible. 

“Nurse Chapel will be delighted to know you have emotions. Or maybe disappointed.”

“Christine already understands this aspect of my nature. She is one of the few who does.”

The medication was having its desired effect. The urge to cough lessening, his breathing easier and a lazy, floating drowsiness taking over. McCoy waggled his eyebrows lazily at the sound of his head nurse’s first name.

“‘Christine’ huh?’ Why, Spock, I had no idea.”

“It is not what you are assuming, Doctor. Nurse Chapel is sensitive, insightful and makes no assumptions about other species. You are fortunate to have her on your staff.”  

“What’re you still doing here?” McCoy’s voice was beginning to slur as he changed the subject. He didn’t have the energy for their usual banter.

“I am, as you say, ‘keeping you company,’” Spock replied. “You don’t need to do that.”

“On the contrary, Doctor. The sooner you fall asleep, the sooner I can return to my preferred evening activities.”

“Nearly there,” McCoy murmured.

“Then I will leave you to your rest.” Spock stood. “Shall I check on you later?

McCoy waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, I’m feeling pretty good.” 

And then he closed his eyes, vaguely aware of a sleepy half-smile on his face. Through his half-asleep haze he felt a hand settle against the top of his head.

“Then sleep well, Leonard.” Spock said. “We need you back in sickbay.”

McCoy responded with a click of his tongue and a fingergun gesture without lifting his hand from where it rested on his chest. “Will do.”

The last thing he heard was a sigh, the sound of the door to his quarters sliding shut and then all was dark and peaceful.

[pinnithin-writes]

Good Jokes

Chapter 4

Later that day, Tommy did two things to make Gordon’s life a little easier.

Item one: he did end up trapping Benrey under a fire door. It was an accident. Totally. Tommy knew it wasn’t a permanent fix, but it would at least get the entity out of their hair for a few hours while he regenerated a body. In the meantime, they could make their way through the facility much quicker.

Item two: he stopped calling Gordon by his first name.

Dr. Coomer had been firing off a cheerful, “Hello, Gordon!” every few minutes and it was driving the new guy nuts. He was sick to death of his own name. Tommy realized he had subconsciously discarded the word ‘Gordon’ to spare his sanity and now found himself casting around for a replacement.

‘Freeman’ felt blasé. Lazy. Like something Benrey would call him, if he ever bothered to call anyone anything. ‘Dr. Freeman’ made Tommy feel the same way ‘Dr. Coolatta’ did. It was ostentatious. Distinguished. Not at all a fit for Gordon - Tommy had a feeling he knew how to misbehave.

...Mister? Mr. Freeman? That made him sound like a high school history teacher. It was… hilarious, honestly. He couldn’t picture this maniac with a crowbar lecturing at the front of a classroom if he tried. And Gordon didn’t strike Tommy as someone pretentious enough to correct him on the title. He was sharp enough to appreciate the joke. Provided he wasn’t too stressed out to catch it.

The first time he called him that, Gordon accepted it without comment, did a double take, and gave Tommy a questioning, brows-raised look. Mister? He mouthed. But, as predicted, he didn’t correct him. Tommy could not keep the shit-eating grin off his face. The name stuck.

The military showed up, with their artillery and their uniforms and their brief stint of hope, but they were just as bloodthirsty as the aliens, gunning the researchers in Black Mesa down like prey animals. Were these three men he ran with the only people Tommy could trust? No, not even that, the only people who didn’t outright want him dead? It sure was starting to seem like that. He steeled his nerves for further violence as they pushed on.

Reaching the surface was a short-lived victory. Tommy caught a fleeting glimpse of the red canyon walls, the searing blue sky, before government ordered ammunition rained down on them and forced them below ground again like rats. His heart ached. He wanted to taste the sun on his face. Feel the desert sand radiating its latent heat. Following his team into the cold metal belly of Black Mesa once more was probably the hardest thing he’d done that day.

Benrey didn’t stay gone for long, materializing in the form of a skeleton while his flesh was piecing itself together particle by particle in another dimension. He was practically haunting the group, revealing himself only to Gordon and slowly driving him insane. Tommy could see him, as well, but he ignored the entity. If he was this desperate for attention, he would have to try a little harder to gain any from him.

He later got the attention he craved via dozens of slugs of lead. Bubby and Coomer quickly took out the skeleton as soon as it visibly approached them, and Gordon had promptly passed out seconds later. Tommy rested his hands on his waist, surveying the mess and shaking his head. They were too close to the military threat right now to justify resting here.

God, he was bone tired, though. They had been running hard for at least a day now. It was honestly a miracle Gordon hadn’t lost consciousness sooner. He drew in a deep breath, casting a cursory look at his remaining companions.

“Do you think we can get him out of here?” he asked.

Bubby wiped a spatter of blood from his jaw and shrugged. “I’m not carrying him,” he grumbled.

“We could roll him like a barrel,” Dr. Coomer suggested blithely.

As funny as that would be, it was probably best not to give Gordon any more blunt force trauma than he had already taken today. Falling down a staircase because your coworkers pushed you would be a pretty idiotic way to die, especially after everything Gordon had survived already. Tommy removed his lab coat and passed it off to Bubby, who passed it off to Coomer.

After he neatly rolled up his sleeves, picking up Gordon wasn’t hard for Tommy to do. It was just a matter of nudging the rules of weight and mass a little to his advantage. Tommy never broke reality; he just leaned on it occasionally until it gave enough ground for him to do what he wanted. Gordon’s limp head lolled against his chest as he hefted him in his arms. He did his best not to pay attention to that.

“Fine lifting, Tommy!” Dr. Coomer exclaimed.

Tommy nodded in thanks, grateful that the old boxer didn’t get hung up on the details of the implausible. Bubby, however, had a question on his face, studying Tommy carefully as he stood there carrying a man who had fifty pounds on him, at least. But he didn’t ask, so Tommy didn’t answer.

He cast one last look at the pile of Benrey bones on the floor. He’d catch up later.

“Let’s go,” he said.

They pressed on wearily in search of a sheltered place. Tommy carried Gordon like the precious cargo he was, fully appreciating that the other man wasn’t conscious for this. Otherwise he’d surely hear how loudly his heart was pounding against his ribs.

I’ve got you, Tommy thought. You’re safe.

---

A new sense of normalcy elbowed into their lives. The following day, the team worked its way in a wide arc through an unexplored section of Black Mesa, dodging aliens and soldiers alike as they went. It had only taken 24 hours for the reality of fighting for their lives to settle in, and while they were all still pretty haggard from the previous day’s events, everyone seemed to be handling themselves a little better after a night’s rest and some time to process.

Gordon had improved more than anyone. After dealing with the shock of the Resonance Cascade and watching his world turn on its ear, he had concluded that the only way out was through, and he would be the one to get them there. His words were still a rapid-fire tangle of his unfiltered thoughts, but Tommy could see his decisions growing more critical, his actions more confident as they worked their way toward freedom.

Good thing, too. Tommy was beginning to sense a strangeness in the air the deeper they explored Black Mesa. A warping of the space around them, a stretching of the threads of time. Someone, somewhere, had grabbed a towline and yanked, and Tommy could sense it yanking him, too. It felt…bad. It felt wrong.

He tried to explain as much to the team, now that their soundness of mind was relatively more stable than it was yesterday. But it was hard to verbalize the concept of reality shifting like a tectonic plate to people whose top priorities were not getting eaten or shot. “I think time might be expanding and contracting,” was what Tommy said. “I think you might be having a caffeine overdose,” was Gordon’s troubled reply.

Alright. If nobody wanted to believe him, Tommy wasn’t going to waste his energy making them. He trailed behind the group, as was his habit, and quietly did his best to keep his companions alive.

On the upside, with Gordon feeling more normal, Tommy’s jokes were starting to land again. As they uncovered more and more horrifying secrets hidden in the intestines of Black Mesa, Tommy could feel his own sarcasm reaching astronomical levels just to cope.

What the hell were they doing down here? Tommy had been aware of the planar research the facility was conducting, but seriously? A freezer full of human flesh? Ethically questionable cybernetic experiments? Vats of toxic waste, just out there in the open? The absurdity of it all would almost strike him as funny if their circumstances weren’t so dire.

Bubby met it all with grim acceptance and Dr. Coomer seemed wholly oblivious. Only Gordon was reeling with the same amount of consternation that Tommy was experiencing, exchanging glances with him that asked, What the fuck? What the actual fuck?

Dr. Coomer, who was rapidly gaining Tommy’s respect by going toe to toe with their enemies boxing style, kept worrying about his ‘green goop’ allergy anytime they were near the nuclear waste. Tommy honestly wasn’t sure if he was serious or not, and he fought down a snicker whenever it was mentioned. In a way, everyone was allergic to nuclear waste. If you really thought about it.

Gordon eventually raised a concern about their exposure to radiation. Little late there, bud, Tommy wanted to say, but Bubby beat him to the punch with an acidic, “It’s just brain cancer, you can live with that.”

“I don’t thi - hm,” Gordon said.

“I don’t think you can live with that,” Coomer agreed.

Gordon paused, then reconsidered. “I mean, you guys have shown me you - your superhuman potential, so maybe you can,” he said. “Maybe you can. I’m willing to believe… quite about anything right now, so.”

Tommy rolled his eyes as he hopped easily up to the pipeline they had been following. Anything except time being altered, apparently. He tried not to hold it against him. Baby steps. Tommy gazed down at Gordon and jerked his chin for him to follow.

“The cybernetics department was very well funded, Gordon,” Dr. Coomer informed him brightly as he clambered up the pipe.

Well funded? Tommy couldn’t keep the snark out of his voice. “Yeah,” he agreed dryly, “they even gave us these flashlights.”

Gordon, after clearing a gap, turned to give Tommy a puzzled look.

He smirked and indicated his perfectly ordinary flashlight. “They’re Weather Channel brand, you just kinda turn a crank and they go.”

Gordon’s laugh, genuine and sweet, rang through the chamber, and Tommy was surprised at the relief that washed over him when he heard it. If Gordon was feeling well enough to take a joke, they were on the right track. They were doing okay. He smiled and kept moving forward, hope fluttering in his chest.

The nuclear reactor that was actively leaking waste was so mind-numbingly ridiculous, so pointlessly and blatantly dangerous, that Tommy barked out a short “ha!” of a laugh when he rounded the corner. The sheer amount of radiation exposure this facility possessed was unheard of. It was a miracle they didn’t all have massive brain damage. Okay, well. Maybe that was up for debate.

“This place is huge,” Gordon remarked.

“Yup!” Tommy proclaimed, eyeing the acid green sludge with a mystified grin. “And it’s all built to code. The U.S. lets us do this. This is all to regulation.” He raised his arm in a dramatic, sweeping gesture, unable to contain his mirth. “Everything.”

Gordon began chuckling. “I mean, I’m not too worried about the government right now,” he reasoned, before his attention was stolen away by the animals that were swimming in the murk. He popped a few rounds off with his handgun, marveling at the beasts’ ability to survive in such a toxic environment.

Tommy was too pleased with himself to even bother acting like they were a threat. “Those creatures aren’t from the - from the incident,” he continued. “Those were here. That’s also to regulation. You’re allowed… five percent.”

He was barely keeping his tone even and Gordon was doing an amused little exhale through his nose as he tried to hold in his laughter.

“We’ve been breeding them for twenty years to eat radioactive waste,” Dr. Coomer added, eyes twinkling with mischief as he played along.

Tommy had never wanted to high five another person so badly in his life.

Dr. Coomer didn’t even manage to ruin the mood by dying, twice, in rapid succession. He miraculously reappeared only seconds later, when they had all regrouped on a catwalk about three stories above the pit of waste. Tommy arched a quizzical eyebrow at the old man. Coomer simply shrugged. Huh. He sure wasn’t kidding about the cybernetics department being well funded.

Gordon, who was already questioning his own sanity, didn’t even ask about it. Benrey was back, of course. Hovering around the group like the disembodied fuck he was. Tommy let his gaze slide away from him like water anytime he was in his line of sight, but Gordon couldn’t shake the spectre from his mind as it floated only paces behind them. He had been doing a well enough job of pretending the entity wasn’t there until Benrey fired a nine millimeter round at him.

“Okay,” Gordon declared, finally snapping. “There is something fucked up going on.” He cast a nervous eye in the skeleton’s direction.

Bubby and Coomer looked perplexed, while Tommy just folded his arms. He was ignoring Benrey for everyone’s sake - the more attention he got the more powerful he became - but a small part of him was just being petty. Oh, Gordon wanted everyone to believe something unlikely was happening? But nobody took his word for it? Wonder what that felt like.

Gordon kept talking as he pointed at Benrey. “There is an invisible assailant. I want you guys to believe me - I need you guys to believe me.” His tone took on a pleading edge, and it was too much for Tommy to leave him hanging anymore. “There’s - okay - th-”

“I mean, aside from the extra creatures,” Tommy interrupted him, “I’m just seeing normal nuclear power plant stuff, Mr. Freeman. You’re starting to concern me.”

Gordon’s nervous words stuttered into a chuckle. While he turned aside to contain himself, Tommy sliced a chilly stare toward the simpering skull a few yards away. Shoot at him again and see what happens.

Benrey’s returning gaze was icy. But he hung back.

The group assured Gordon that he was not, in fact, losing his mind (“Could just be the radiation,” Bubby offered), and kept going until they reached a door with a label so weathered it was almost unreadable. Gordon, with newfound confidence, gave Tommy a roguish grin as soon as he saw it.

“What does this say?” He asked, even teeth flashing prettily. “This is another one of those fucked up things like the break room. I can't read this.”

Tommy let out a quiet, surprised breath. The fact that Gordon was referencing the moment they met at a time like this made him feel amused and touched in equal measure. Heat rose from his collarbones to his cheeks as he returned his smile. Wait, he had asked him a question, hadn’t he? He squinted at the door and realized he could actually decipher it.

“This says-”

“Prolapse?” Gordon guessed cheekily, and Tommy almost choked on his own laughter.

“Pro Lab Engine Testing,” he managed to gasp out, right before the door opened and a ghoulish creature lunged at them.

Dr. Coomer was on the thing in a blink, knocking it out with a heavy-knuckled blow to the cranium before it could even touch anyone. They all gave the old scientist an impressed look before stepping around the corpse and through the entrance.

“I’ve never been in here,” Tommy commented as he ducked under the doorway. “They only let me into the Scrub Lab.”

Gordon laughed like a bell tower. It rang straight through his heart.

Tommy was never one for drugs, but Gordon Freeman’s sunshine smile made him understand why some people were. Every time he saw it he wanted more, and hearing Gordon’s laughter was quickly becoming addicting.

Awfully inconvenient of Armageddon to happen right when he was getting to know the guy. He should be asking him for his number, not checking to see how many bullets he’d taken. Well, Tommy thought with resolve, all the more reason to get him out of here alive.

Chapter 3 <-----> Chapter 5

[oakantony]

Hi! I just wanted to stop by and tell you that I LOVE your writing, esp the biggest change series. I caught up with the youngest child as it was coming out, and I still go back to read it fairly regularly, it's so good!!! I was wondering what Killua's reaction would be to Gon and Kalluto dating? I can imagine it going so many different ways. (no pressure if you don't want to answer the question, thanks for writing!!)

First, thank you so much!!! 

(Edit: if ever you want to follow my writing progress or if you want to chat hxh in depth, feel free to join my discord: https://discord.gg/QS2Jusr --lurkers are totally welcome too. ^ ^)

This has sat here for a while because I want to write a Killua fic but I want to rewatch hxh before writing a Killua fic so I can make sure he’s not OOC ;__;! That might take months or even years, so… I’m gonna just answer now.

tbh if we’re going off (my interpretation of) canon, Killua will honestly probably be a little heartbroken. Not necessarily because he’s in love with Gon–at that point in the Biggest Change series, it’s been YEARS. A decade! Since he went missing with Alluka. A decade is a long time–and both he and Gon changed in that period of time. But before that? He had a special connection with Gon he may never have with another person. So… he’d be heartbroken, but not necessarily mad? Or even upset? 

Lots of thoughts under the cut because I cannot…….be stopped…

It’s like… Have you ever made a decision and wondered what would have happened if you did the opposite? When I was 24 i got a job opportunity doing graphic design full time at this little magazine and I took it and moved to Dallas and have been here ever since (8 years!). And sometimes I wonder where I’d be/what life would be like if I hadn’t taken that job and if I remained in Austin. Sometimes I think about it and I get a little ache right between my ribs. It’s not that I regret my choices, but there’s a curiosity that’s a little unpleasant when you think about it too hard.

Killua made the right choice, protecting his sister and himself from his psychotic family, and ultimately from his best friend. Gon had demonstrated not only that he could take care of himself, but that even when he couldn’t take care of himself, Killua couldn’t really take care of him, either. When Gon wants to self-destruct, he’s going to, and Killua would just have to live with it. I think that’s ultimately why, at least in my interpretation, they wouldn’t have worked as a couple: Gon is fine sacrificing whatever it takes to achieve his goals and Killua is fine being sacrificed for him. 

After everything that happened in the Ant/Chairman arcs, I think Killua, being possibly the smartest character in our whole main cast, recognized this fact. Gon was bad for him. His family was bad for him. And his family was bad for Alluka.

That’s why I had Killua leave; that’s why I progressed the story the way I did. I found out very recently that a lot of people were Pretty Mad about The Youngest Child, and I totally get it, because Killua and Gon are basically the best ship of all time (I’m sorry hisoillu it’s fuckin tru tho) and I shat all over it with basically a crackship of Kalluto and Gon, lmao.

But these are the kinda thoughts that went into my choice here and note that it’s totally just my interpretation and I aaaabsolutely recognize that there are other ways to make the story work. Like, I could stop and rewrite The Youngest Child to be called The Middle Child and it’d follow Killua as he comes to grips with being in love with Gon and how they would navigate their different neuroses and flaws to make a relationship work. I did the same thing with The Longest Job/The Smallest Favor, lol. I coulda done it again. And if I had all the time in the world (like maybe if I hadn’t taken that job 8 years ago and led myself down this path of 60+ hour work weeks) I could maybe do that…

But I love Kalluto and I think Kalluto’s tolerance for pain is more easily tuned for Gon’s ability to hurt, so when the idea came to me, I jumped on it. I know it seems weird but it totally worked in my brain. 

ANYWAY.

The TLDR is that Killua would be wistful but understanding. A decade after leaving, he’s matured now, and better equipped to handle the crazy shit his family gets up to. A lot of obstacles from his past are gone at this point in The Biggest Change series, so I think his homecoming would ultimately be a happy, healing moment for him. He’d learn to love Gon and Kalluto together. He’d learn to appreciate Hisoka and Illumi’s absolutely fucking weird-ass marriage. He’d see himself in Kurapika and the dumbass decisions he’s made. 

And he’d fall in love with someone eventually. What’s super hot, often shirtless, very powerful, finally confident, nearly-unmatched-in-martial-artistry adult Zushi up to nowadays? 

(That last bit’s a joke.)

[happytroopers]

Gimme Gimme Gimme // Voulez Vous

When you woke up the next morning, you felt so incredibly awkward with Dogma clinging to you. Quickly and quietly, you slipped out of bed and into the bathroom to shower for work. You breathed a silent thanks when you saw he was still asleep. By no means did you regret sleeping with him(and for his first time it wasn’t half bad- he was very good with instruction) but you were too young to be tied down- what was so great about commitment when you had your whole life to settle down? Still, not wanting to hurt his feelings, you jotted down a page and half of explaining yourself and bolstering it with sweet (but still sincere) statements. For good measure, you spritzed it with your perfume before laying it on your pillow. You took one last look at the sleeping soldier before leaving for work. When you returned, the note and Dogma were gone, and your bed was neatly made up.

Nevertheless, life went on. Besides picking up a man, performing at 79’s opened up many new opportunities. Apparently, at your previous performance, some rich kid decided they just had to have you perform at their birthday bash on their private cruiser. The gig was going to be all inclusive and still pay more than any other performance combined. Needless to say, you and the dynamos agreed instantly and packed your bags. Rendezvousing at a high-class landing bay, you ran excitedly up to them, starting the chant you had made up as college roommates.

“Dynamos!” You yelled, but they quickly joined in, bumping hips and pumping fists, “Dynamite, sleep all day… And WHOOP! All night!!”

Dissolving into fits of laughter, you didn’t even notice the uniformed clone troopers approaching you until one tapped you on the shoulder. Still breathless from laughing you spun around to find a helmeted trooper staring down at you. “Is, heh, there a problem, sirs?”

“No problem, if I follow you around all weekend, I might come away with a new wardrobe.” The one closer to you held out his hands as he snickered, which were now full of your clothes. Gasping with red cheeks, you snatched the items out of his hand before snapping your attention to your luggage. As you guessed, your suitcase was half open, clothes– casual and performance alike– spilling out.

“Well, I doubt they’ll work for you.” You grumbled, snatching your delicates away from him and shoving them back in your suitcase. He kneeled down to help, removing his helmet as he did. You momentarily were distracted, taking him in– his eyes were darker than Dogma’s, a tattoo on his temple, close-cropped black hair, and a neatly trimmed goatee. Meeting your eyes, he only chuckled again, holding up a metallic top to his armored chest.

“I can make it work.” He shrugged before handing it over. Shaking your head but unable to hide your smile, you quirked an eyebrow at him and nodded towards his partner– who had also removed his helmet and was watching the situation with a slight cringe.

“I didn’t realize this was an… occupied event.  What are you soldiers doing here?” You asked, zipping your suitcase. Glancing between the two, you found the hand-printed soldier had focussed his attention on Rosie.

“Arc-troopers, ma’am,” he clarified, the mischief still in his eyes, “My partner, Echo, and I, along with a handful of troopers were assigned to keep tabs on the event. With so many high profile people, our superiors wanted to make sure no one took advantage of the situation. Speaking of, we need to see some identification?”

“Mmhm.” You smirked while getting up, “I’m (Y/N), me and my friends were hired as entertainment. Never caught your name though?”

“Well so far, you have been most entertaining.” He mused, “I’m Fives.”

Sharing one last smile, he nodded to you as your friends drug you along to board the cruiser- already bustling with drunken youths. Glancing over to Echo, he saw his brother shaking his head at him.

“Echo, I’m beginning to think this gig won’t be so bad.”

While your accommodations left much to be desired, settling in wasn’t hard- you, Rosie, and Keehla were bunked in with the other entertainment. Servant droids provided you with schedules and maps, showing you where and when to be places. “(Y/N) and the Dynamos” were scheduled for the last performance slot of the night- and it was going to be one hell of a performance.

Rosie opened as always, so with fog swirling and the lights dimmed, you took your opening pose. Growling into the mic, the twi’lek shimmied as she spoke, “Ladies and Gentlemen, for one night, and one night only: (Y/N) and the Dynamos!”

The teenagers hollered and clapped as the lights flashed on, illuminating and reflecting on the metallics and glitter of your costumes. Since most in attendance were students, you decided to open with “When I kiss the Teacher.”

Everybody screamed

When I kissed the teacher,

And they must have thought they dreamed

When I kissed the teacher

All my friends at school

They had never seen the teacher blush

She looked like a fool

Nearly petrified ‘cause she was taken by surprise

When I kissed the teacher

Couldn’t quite believe her eyes

When I kissed the teacher

My whole class went wild

As I held my breath

The world stood still but then she just smiled

I was in the seventh heaven

When I kissed the teacher

What a mad day

Now I see everything in a different light

What a mad day

I was up in the air

And she taught me a lesson alright

As expected, the crowd danced and jumped along, and kept the same energy for the next song. You glanced to your side to see Rosie winking at someone along the far wall, you followed her eyes to find Echo, the other arc trooper, watching her contently as she swayed and shimmied to the rhythm. Knowing Fives must be around, you looked around the room to find him on the opposite end of the room- unlike Echo, he had his helmet on, but still nodded as if you met his eyes. Throwing him a wink, you introduced the next song, “Now THIS is a party! ‘Voulez-Vou’ means ‘Do you want to?’ And I think you do!”  

“People everywhere

A sense of expectation hangin’ in the air

Givin’ out a spark

Across the room your eyes are glowin’ in the dark

And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end

Masters of the scene

We’ve done it all before and now we’re back to get some more

You know what I mean”

The dances to this song were generally more sharp, popping and bopping along to the beat, but still smooth when swayed through a longer note. Couples joined up, dancing together.

“Voulez-vous,

Take it now or leave it,

Now is all we get,

Nothing promised, no regrets

Voulez-vous

Ain’t no big decision

You know what to do

La question c'estvoulez-vous

Voulez-vous”

At the end of the chorus, the guitar sped up and became more intense. You flipped your hair around, holding a hand out to Keehla to spin her around, the tips of her montrals grazing arms as her long lekku swayed, teal skin shimmering with sweat and glitter and lilac eyes sparking. You laughed, throwing her a wink before extending another to Rosie. The Twi-lek happily took it, her icy, blue eyes sparkling as she danced. Moments like this were your favorite, but you still had a crowd to please.

“I know what you think

The girl means business so I’ll offer her a drink

Lookin’ mighty proud

I see you leave your table, pushin’ through the crowd

I’m really glad you came, you know the rules, you know the game

Master of the scene

We’ve done it all before and now we’re back to get some more

You know what I mean”

You followed Rosie and Keehla through some complicated footwork. Beginning to feel that ache in your lungs, but you pressed on. Throwing even more into the dance.

“Voulez-vous

Take it now or leave it

Now is all we get

Nothing promised, no regrets

Voulez-vous

Ain’t no big decision

You know what to do

La question c'estvoulez-vous

And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end

Masters of the scene

We’ve done it all before and now we’re back to get some more

You know what I mean

Voulez-vous

Take it now or leave it

Now is all we get

Nothing promised, no regrets”

The tempo once again picking up as the song came to closer to the end, but the choreography became more intense as well, many spins and dips and hair flips. You smiled through the breathlessness, the stage was a second home and the flashing lights only encouraged you.

Voulez-vous

Ain’t no big decision

You know what to do

La question c'estvoulez-vous

Take it now or leave it

Now is all we get

Nothing promised, no regrets

Voulez-vous

Ain’t no big decision

You know what to do

La question c'estvoulez-vous

Finishing with a pronounced pose, the lights dimmed for a moment. The three of you quickly gulped down some water, stretched, and grabbed feather boas- a fun prop for a strong finish. Taking the stage again, the Togruta strutted to the front.

“This one goes out to all my single ladies in the crowd,” Keehla announced, and once again the crowd cheered in response. You prepared yourself, this song had some dance moves… that the males in the crowd would enjoy. The guitar and bass played over loudspeakers as you started,

“Half past twelve

And I’m watching the late show in my flat all alone

How I hate to spend the evening on my own

Autumn winds

Blowing outside my window as I look around the room

And it makes me so depressed to see the gloom”

As you sang, you dropped to the floor- shifting your weight from leg to leg and swerving your arms to the words. Watching the audience, you could see some girls mimicking you in front of their dates- the dates clearly enjoying themselves. Slowly rising from your crouch, you joined Keehla and Rosie.

“Is there a man out there

Someone to hear my prayers

Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight

Won’t somebody help me chase the shadows away

Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight

Take me through the darkness to the break of the day”  

With you in the middle, the three of you dancing in perfect sync- Rosie’s back to your best, and you back to Keehla’s chest- you all shaded your eyes, pretending to scour the crowd. But your eyes flicked to Fives in the back, smirking at him. Moving on to the next verse, you pointed to the birthday girl, who was incredibly inebriated and dancing on a table.

“Movie stars

Find the end of the rainbow, with a fortune to win

It’s so different from the world I’m living in

Tired of T.V.

I open the window and I gaze into the night

But there’s nothing there to see, no one in sight”

The way the stage set up, you were able to step off the stage and on to a table, and from there either crowd surf or hop tables to join the birthday girl, who giggled widely and dropped her drink, as you danced with her. You grinned, snaking your feather boa around her as well and recreating the previous choreography with her instead of your friends, who were doing something similar with girls closer to the stage.  

“Is there a man out there

Someone to hear my prayers

Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight

Won’t somebody help me chase the shadows away

Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight”

Take me through the darkness to the break of the day

Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight… “

At the conclusion of the chorus, the girl stumbled into the arms of a rather handsome Pantoran boy. Sighing, you slinked back towards the stage, gathering Keehla and Rosie on your way to the big finish.

“Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight…

Is there a man out there

Someone to hear my prayers”

Once again pretending to scour the crowd, this time you directly pointed at Fives, glaring playfully with a wicked smile- he nearly fell over in surprise at the sudden acknowledgment. Popping each of your knees to the beat, you interpreted the words with your hands.

“Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight

Won’t somebody help me chase the shadows away

Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight”

Take me through the darkness to the break of the day”

Striking your final pose, the lights dimmed as the DJ began playing recorded songs and the three of you breathlessly wandered backstage. Collapsing onto the folding chairs, all you could think about was a nice shower and some food. What you weren’t looking forward too was sharing a bunk with six other performers, but you chose not to think about that when you collected your check. You trailed behind Keehla and Rosie, deciding only to shower and sleep- you’d deal with your growling stomach in the morning.

Just as you thought this, Rosie piped up, “I think, I’m gonna get changed and go join the party. The setlist has me in a… whoop-ing kinda mood- and I have someone in mind.”

“I’ll join you, might as well make use of the open bars.” Keehla shrugged. They turned to you, but you shook your head violently.

With a wink, the rest of you laughed. “Well, I’m in a sleep all day, and sleep more at night kinda mood. How do you have the energy?”

“Simple,” Keehla started, and Rosie chorussed her, “We’re dancing queens.”

don’t worry there’s more fives to come.

[supersoldier-of-asgard]

Sareureuk

•The motion of snowflakes slowly melting under the morning sun•

Pairing : Tony Stark x @imagineandimagine

Summary : When the Quinjet is buried under the snow because of a harsh storm, Tony is set to free them. 

A/N : This is the first time I´m doing a fic for someone, so I hope this is good enough ajfkeaoi I rewrote this one hundred times at least, and I´m still not entirely happy with it lmao. I tried to make it Christmas-y and I hope you like it! It was fun participating in this Secret Santa project :)

Also thank you so much @imbrium-barnes for helping me with this ily

@itsbuckysworld

Exhausted Avengers had collapsed on every spacious nook on the Quinjet, breathing out a sigh of relief from the draining battle that had taken place mere hours ago, when the cold harsh winter snow had decided fate.

Bloody fingers scrambled to grasp anything in their reach as they felt the ground shift, red lights blindingly flickering on wide eyes as the white blanket of snow swallowed the jet.

“TONY?”

Groans and curses filled the jet not moments after, a scrambling Tony dismissing his aching arms and standing up from his place in the cockpit. His stomach sank in guilt as he took in the sight before him, his eyes flickering to M almost instinctively. 

He walked his way to her, crouching down by her sitting form as she rubbed her head.’’ You okay? Are you hurt?’’

M hummed, adjusting herself as she looked past Tony for her other Teammates. A gasp left her as she pulled herself up, brushing past Tony and making her way to an injured Steve hissing in pain.

‘‘He’s stuck! Tony, help me get this off his leg.’‘

A piece of the wall had struck his leg, leaving a gaping hole when they had managed to lift it. Tony watched as worry filled M’s eyes, her gaze again brushing past him and to one of the medical boxes on the ground. 

Steve tried to calm her down, but it only fueled the guilt and jealousy burning deep within Tony. He managed to pluck his eyes from them and avert them to Natasha, who was nursing Clint’s hand with another medical box.

He cursed at himself, looking up at the white bullets raining from above, clattering like ice against the glass. How could he have taken the risk to make the flight? He should have listened to Steve, but his stupid pride couldn’t seem to let him think straight.

Now they’re snowed in the Quinjet.

‘’M, I’m fine, really. It’s nothing big,’’ Steve sighed, a hiss betraying him not soon after.

‘’There was metal in your leg, Steve,’’ M retorted, patting the injured spot after she was done, causing him to hold back another groan with a tight-lipped smile.’’ Is everyone else okay?’’

‘‘No. How am I supposed to use my bow now that my arm and hand is injured? There goes my not-even-superpower,’‘ Clint pouted, earning a smack from Natasha as she stood up and looked out the window.

‘‘Tony, how fast do you think you can fix this?’‘

‘‘FRIDAY?’‘ he called instead. No answer. ‘’Shit. The system must be down.’’

‘‘No signal,’‘ M announced,’‘ I can’t reach Bruce.’‘

Tony walked to the panels, clicking some buttons and pulling some wires as the rest watched him anxiously. His expression when he sat up said it all.

‘‘Even if I do manage to fix this, and I will, there is no guarantee that we can get the jet out of the snow,’‘ he sighed, rubbing his still aching wrists.

‘‘We can wait till the storm clears out, so we can dig?’‘ Steve suggested, trying to sit on one of the benches.

‘‘Until the storm clears out we might be totally covered,’‘ M commented, looking at the miles of untouched white covering the ground, being filled more and more with infinite snowflakes.’‘ We might miss Christmas.’‘ 

‘‘They must search for us eventually, right? We would never miss Christmas!’‘ Clint whined.

‘‘I’ll try my best. In the meantime, don’t eat up all the food will ya? We don’t know for how long we’ll be here,’‘ Tony said, pushing his chair back to crouch by the panels.

‘‘Can I help?’‘ asked a too familiar voice behind him. The voice that whispered in his dreams.

‘‘S-sure, uhm, hand over the, uh, screwdriver,’‘ he stuttered, quickly turning his head back and cursing to himself. God, stop being awkward. 

She handed it to him, situating herself so he couldn’t avoid her eyes quite so easily. “Bummer we might miss Christmas.”

“We won’t, don’t worry,” he reassured her, shooting her a smile.

 That smile ignited something within her, but she repressed it, quickly gathering herself. “Sure about that? We seem pretty deep in the snow.”

He chuckled, heat rising to his face as his guilt started eating at him again. He fucked up Christmas for her.

“Pretty sure, yeah. I’m Ironman, I can fix this,” he boasted, getting a sweet chuckle in return.

“Well I hope it’s soon, Ironman, I have someone to kiss under the mistletoe.” M winked, walking back to a complaining Steve.

A tired sigh left Tony as he put down the cable and rubbed his arm, watching out of the corner of his eye as she laughed with Steve.

Of course she would choose Steve. He was everything Tony wasn’t, and far from anything Tony was. Above all, he wasn’t the one that put her life in danger by making such a reckless decision. 

Jealousy flamed within Tony as he thought about them touching lips under the mistletoe. Steve always had what Tony hadn’t. Righteousness, leadership qualities, his father’s and the whole world’s respect and now most importantly, M’s heart.

It hurt him when he would see her flirting with Steve, her green eyes pooling in his perfect blue ones. Steve denied it, but Tony knew he loved her. It was evident in the way he had gently lifted her up yesterday night, so she could place the star on top of the decorated Christmas tree. He had held her longer than necessary, and she had kissed him on the cheek.

This Christmas had been Tony’s chance to lead her under the mistletoe, even if it was only for a peck on the cheek. He longed for her, the way she would put her palm over the blue light of the arc reactor to see it shine through her fingers, calling it a nightlight. He wanted to see that smile directed to him, when he would make one of his lame jokes or wear some ridiculous clothing, to snuggle up to her on movie night, or wear his colored classes for fun.

He wanted to smell her perfume on his pillow, her brown hair tangled in his fingers or spread over his face. He had wished for Santa to give her love to him as a present, and all he got was anxiety and bottomless guilt. There’s not even a mistletoe. 

Lights flickered above his head, cutting him from his thoughts as the familiar voice of the AI bounced off the walls.’’I am glad you are not dead, sir.’’

‘‘Hello to you too,’‘ he snickered.’’ Ready to get us out of here FRIDAY?’’

‘‘I’m sorry, sir, but the storm is too heavy for me to reach Dr. Banner, or any nearby station. It is too dangerous to take flight.’‘

The disappointment laced in the voice of the AI was almost real, and it kind of scared M. She was still kind of getting used to it, and was amazed that Tony had managed to create something that could interact with emotions. He truly is a genius, and she wanted nothing more than to explore his mind.

‘‘Is the jet functional?’‘ Tony spoke up, cutting her thoughts.

‘‘The snow is blocking the flight system, and if the storm keeps this rate, we can’t open any windows and the oxygen will run out soon.’‘

‘‘This will take hours!’‘ Steve exclaimed, pulling himself up to stand. M clung to him immediately to steady him, but he gently shrugged her off.’’ We have to dig us out before we suffocate.’’

‘‘Steve, you can barely stand,’‘ Natasha sighed.’‘You won’t be able to stand in the storm either.’‘

‘‘I’m fine. This is not the worst I’ve had.’‘ He said,’‘ I can handle a storm.’‘

Tony rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.” And how are you going to dig us out? With your bare hands? I don’t know if you see it, Rogers, but the snow falls faster than you can shovel.”

Steve rolled his eyes too, but didn’t reply. His leg hurt too much, anyways, and the sting from the harsh storm would be unbearable. He just couldn’t sit by and watch.

“I’ll go outside in the suit and use my lasers to melt the ice. You guys stay inside and sing some Christmas songs,” he joked, pressing a button to activate his suit, the cool metal covering him in seconds.

��No, we’re coming with you. It’ll be faster,” M protested, stepping in front of the button that lifted the glass above them. She couldn’t send him out by himself.

“M, please, it’s too harsh out there, you wouldn’t be able to stand let alone shovel. Let me do this.” He placed a metal hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring look before letting the mask close his face.

She sighed, stepping aside and anxiously watching him open the glass above them. The freezing air rushed inside instantly, snow falling down like bullets as everyone clutched their surroundings. Tony flew up quickly, letting the bowl fall close as he struggled against the storm.

“Be careful!” she screamed over the wind, staring up at the sky as he moved about.

Red lasers melted the white snow, thrusters fighting against the force of the wind. He initiated the heating so his suit wouldn’t freeze, dancing around the jet as he desperately made the way for them to fly home.

It was pretty deep, the rapidly adding snow causing it to take longer than necessary. Steadying himself in this storm was hard, his arms still aching and making it exhaustive to keep his arm up to shoot the red flare. 

“Almost done, guys,” echoed through the jet after about forty minutes, earning him sighs of relief.

M couldn’t seem to shake the bad feeling about from her gut, her relief short-lived as Tony had disappeared to the back of the jet, probably cleaning there.

It had been awhile since he came to their side, though, and although everyone else seemed to chat away, M started panicking. Why wasn’t he done? What if something happened to him? No,No he was fine. Tony can handle a snowstorm., Right?

M scrambled to the intercoms, her head pounding.“Tony?” She spoke through the intercom, everyone’s head snapping up in alarm at no response. “Report yourself.”

The cracking through the comms was louder than the deafening silence following it. M rapidly climbed on top the cockpit chair, trying to see around the jet with frightened eyes. She could hear her heart hammering in her ears as she couldn’t catch a glimpse of red between the never ending white.

“I’m going out to find him. There must be something wrong,” she rushed out, wasting no time to tighten her jacket and run towards the control panel to open the bowl.

Natasha stood up to stop her, but the wind held her back as she tried to squint through the snow. ´´She´s crazy.´´

Steve watched helplessly as Natasha ran after her, giving Clint a knowing look as he whispered.´´Crazy in love.´´

The cuts on her cheeks stung heavily as the wind and snow grazed against it, the cold slicing through her thick jacket as anxiety fought against it with heat that almost suffocated her. Her legs sank deep in the white, steps heavy as she prayed desperately to find the red and gold armor. 

What if he was already buried under deep snow? What if they couldn´t find him?

Minutes passed by but it felt like hours, hair whipping in her face and blocking her view as the repressed tears slowly escaped her eyes. They seemed to freeze upon contact with air, leaving her already frozen face coated in frost.

Natasha had tried to convince her to go back, but when she saw that Tony was nowhere in sight, she joined her on the search. Dread settled in and made its nest, and Natasha almost wanted to give up and accept the fact Tony wouldn´t be able to give M the present he had been huddling for weeks.  

A bloodcurdling scream pushed past M´s dry lips as she spotted red, her tired legs moving fast through the mass as Natasha almost cried in relief. M dropped herself next to Tony, rapidly trying to uncover him as tears melted in the snow.´´ Oh my god.´´

The sight before them was terrifying, the mask lifted up to reveal dry and purple lips. His face was as white as the snow, his beard carrying frost and icicles as his nose and eyes were a stark red. ´´He´s breathing,´´ she cried out, throwing herself across him with her head on the dull arc reactor.

´´We have to get him back to the jet,´´Natasha breathed out. M was too relieved to answer, her fingers caressing his face in an effort to warm the life back to him, for he seemed lifeless.

The suit was too heavy for them to carry, but not long after the effort, a limping Steve made his way towards them with an exhausted Clint. 

´´Thank god you´re all alive. I nearly had a heart attack,´´ Steve sighed, bending down to Tony. He bit his lip to refrain from screaming at the sight.

´´With your age, I wouldn´t be surprised,´´ Clint retorted, earning him a tired slap from Natasha as her hand seemed to be frozen solid. 

´´Let´s go back before we turn into ice statues,´´Natasha rushed, watching as Steve almost singlehandedly carried Tony. 

When Tony opened his eyes again, out of the suit with heaps of blankets covering him, he couldn´t contain the relief that he hadn´t died. Watching helplessly in the powered-down suit as the snow fell from the sky and buried him alive, the stinging coldness keeping him from opening his eyes or mouth. He thought he´d went to heaven.

´´You´re awake!´´

Arms slung over his neck, a face pressed against his shoulder as he tried to process what was happening. M pulled away too soon for his liking, her green eyes glistening with tears as she pulled his face closer. Without time to react, her lips were on his, soft and warm. He was too shocked to kiss her back, and immediately regretted it as it came to an end.

M had seemed to realize what she did, for she let out a strangled gasp when she parted, falling back on her ass as she stared at him with wide eyes and red cheeks. It was silent, both of them looking at eachother with a certain fear.

´´I´m sorry.. I.. I don´t.. I don´t know why I did that,´´she stuttered.

He hadn´t answered her, his mind tumbling down in panic as his heart leaped with joy, swelling in his chest as the feel of her lips on his lingered. He had drifted off in his own thoughts, imagining the feel of more than her lips on his, of her body against his, her sighs fanning his face.

´´Please don´t look at me like that,´´ she whispered, looking away from his intense eyes, having no idea what to make of the situation. It was bad enough that she got rejected.´´It hurts too much.´´

That seemed to bring him back to earth. He blinked, finally releasing the breath he was holding and leaping forward to catch her lips again. She squealed, taking his face into her hands as she tried to press herself as close to him as possible. 

He could almost feel the snow that had took up his lungs and heart melt, the warmth that spread through him enough to fuel the whole city. The stinging from the harsh storm on M´s face was now replaced by scruff brushing against her lips, tickling her. 

A cough had interrupted the moment, but eventhough their lips parted, their faces were close enough for their noses to touch, eyes still locked.

´´That is only allowed under the mistletoe!´´ Clint joked, a wave of chuckles going around at their flushed cheeks.

Tony´s eyebrows shot up at the sight before him, now that he had the time to look at his surroundings. The jet was flying through the softly raining snow, the morning sun peaking through like a warm fire as everyone had gathered around his suit. It was standing on its feet, covered in icicles and--

´´Fairy lights? Where did those come from?´´

´´The heavens,´´M answered, lacing her fingers through his as she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

The smile on his face was going to be permanent, he was sure. He sighed in content, chuckling as he thought about how fast things change when you´re on the brink of death. Luckily, this time it was a good change. 

´´Merry Christmas.´´ 

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] Rewards of Losing:  Chapter 12

Kei paused outside of Ryou’s apartment, sniffing the air and murmuring to the plants. What had they seen? What could they tell him?

Not nearly enough. Ryou hadn’t been outside since he came back the night before. But someone had been in there, someone the native plants didn’t like at all. That was Yuuri, he suspected.

The air could tell him little more. Ryou's scent hung clear in the air, but it wasn’t as fresh as it would be if he were there. Hours old, at least. There was another scent as well. That one was probably Yuuri. It tasted much the same as the flytrap, only more human.

And a bit of something else as well. That he wasn’t sure of, though it felt oddly familiar. He would have to figure this out.

For now, though, he leaped up to the balcony and scrambled his way inside, looking around and sniffing thoroughly for any clues.

What he saw chilled him to the bone. The room held almost nothing. No sign of the flytrap or Ryou or Yuuri. Their scents weren’t as strong – they’d been gone for hours. Where they’d gone Kei had no idea.

Slowly he cast back and forth, but there wasn’t anything else. All he could find that held any extra scent were the cards Ryou got out of the packs he’d bought from Mizael’s shop. Kei sniffed those – Ryou hadn’t touched them in hours as well.

“Nova,” he called, “are you there?” Faster to do it this way than to try and paw through all the cards. Had Ryou taken Cyber Dragon Nova with him or not?

A shimmer of spirit appeared before him – Cyber Dragon Nova. His head was down, his frill withdrawn.

“I tried, Kei,” he murmured, scales clanging against one another. “But neither of them could see me or hear me. I couldn’t do anything.”

Kei leaped onto the couch and stared at Nova. “Tell me what happened,” he ordered. If Nova had been human, he might well have been weeping. But the Cyber Dragon line didn’t shed tears.

“After you left, Ryou went somewhere.” Nova reported. “He used a Duel Disk I haven’t seen before. He made sure to leave me and the other cards here. I don’t know what happened while he was gone, but a short time afterward, he came back. He fell down when he did and didn’t move.” Slowly Nova’s tail twitched. “I tried to call you but you weren’t anywhere around.”

Then he drew in a deep breath. “That other Healer showed up. The one who isn’t quite human – with purple hair and a dragon’s heart.”

Oh. Interesting. Kei hadn’t thought of Yuuri like that before but when he reconsidered the times he’d seen him before – he could understand it. He nodded for Nova to continue.

“He picked Ryou up and put him on the couch, then grew out the flytrap and used it to tie him up. Ryou didn’t wake up until close to morning.” Nova’s tail twitched back and forth. “The Healer mentioned that he’d used Firedamp on Ryou.”

It was just as well that there weren’t any humans in the room. What Kei said wasn’t spoken in any human language. But the emphasis would have made it clear regardless.

“Is there anything else that they said?” Kei wanted to know. “And where did they go?”

“Back to Fusion,” Nova reported. “They’re going to come back so Yuuri can duel Mizael, however. Yuuri said he’s going to card him regardless. Whatever that means. And you too.”

Kei’s claws flexed in and out. Firedamp. Not good. He’d known from the moment he laid eyes on Ryou that the Firestarter could become a Frostflame with the right incentive. He might even survive the process. Firedamp not only shorted out a Firestarter’s flames but increased the chances that a Firestarter could frost over – while dropping their chances of living through it.

He wasn’t worried about being carded. He’d managed to spy on Ryou doing it and he didn’t think there was a Cat born that couldn’t evade that. Ryou remained more important.

I can’t get to Fusion. I have to talk to Mizael again. He couldn’t be certain what Ryou wanted or didn’t want right now. Nova didn’t understand enough about humans to be able to tell him what Ryou was thinking and that would make the difference. Had Ryou been bound because he tried to flee or was it something he’d consented to?

Had they returned to Fusion to avoid Mizael here or so Ryou couldn't have a chance to flee? Kei didn’t like not knowing this. He believed with all of his heart that Ryou was a good person. What he didn’t know was if Ryou knew how good of a person he was.

He regarded the cards carefully before he carefully took two of them in hi mouth. If he hated anything about being a Cat and not a human, it was the lack of opposable thumbs. With Cyber Dragon Nova and Cyber Dragon Drei, he leaped out the window and headed towards Mizael.

Ryou kept scraping, reaching for the tiniest flicks of flame, anything that would help him get out of the vines’ grip. But there wasn’t even a hint of the flames anymore. Just the aching cavern of emptiness that filled him ever since he woke from Yuuri’s nasty drugs.

As if that weren’t bad enough, his head throbbed to the point he found himself quite grateful that Yuuri never yelled at him. Of course, those soft words were laced with poison of a different kind as the hours ticked by.

“You don’t really think either one of them are going to want anything to do with you, do you?” Yuuri murmured from where he sat, one arm slung around Ryou’s shoulders. The fingers of his other hand brushed through Ryou’s head over and over. The remains of a fine meal rested on the nearby table.

To anyone else watching, it would have been a perfect scene of Firestarter and Healer domesticity. Ryou ached to get out of there, to feel the flames burst to life inside of himself once more.

Yuuri tapped him gently. “Answer me,” he murmured, just the faintest hint of sternness in his tone.

Ryou knew the answer that Yuuri expected to hear. He knew what everyone else in Fusion would give. He knew also what he wanted to believe. Those two answers remained opposite from one another.

“They won’t,” he said. “They’ll hate me because of what I did.” He’d done the Fusion dimension proud. Yuuri said so. The Professor said so. He’d believed it – up until a point. Up until the Professor so casually decided that he could have his memories torn away for no reason whatsoever.

That made no sense to him. He’d been a loyal soldier all these years. The Professor even seemed willing to accept Mizael – with restrictions. But to card Kei? That didn’t make sense.

The restrictions that would be placed on Mizael sort of did. But Ryou didn’t want those restrictions placed. He wanted to speak to Mizael, to explain things to him, to let him make his own decisions. He'd not be Mizael otherwise.

Again Yuuri’s fingers brushed through Ryou’s hair, pulling his thoughts away from Mizael. Yuuri never let him think of the other Healer for very long.

“How very true. And you did enjoy what you did so much. And what you’re going to do. I have such plans for you. Whether or not we bond.” He chuckled. “Remember what I said about the Professor? We’re still going to do that.”

Ryou didn’t dare to say it out loud, but he knew what Yuuri meant. To kill the Professor – part of him shied away from the thought. He’d spent so long respecting the man and learning from him.

And yet another part yearned to have his flames back so he could set Akaba Leo on fire. The casual way he dismissed Cats, how readily he intended to strip Ryou’s memories, and Ryou didn’t even want to think about what he’d really wanted of Mizael.

“This is all for your own good, after all. I saw those cards you had back there.” Again his fingers played through Ryou’s hair, so soft, far too soft, his words whispering deep into Ryou’s ears. “It’s bad enough that Dennis learned how to use XYZ and he needed that for his mission. You didn’t and you still had some? Unforgivable.” Soft fingers pressed against the side of his neck and Ryou jerked hard, eyes going wide at the jolt of pain. “But I will forgive you, because I wasn’t there to keep you on the right path. Bond or no bond, you have tasks to do that only I can guide you in.”

Ryou shuddered; there had always been an element of pleasure in pain for him. He'd tried very hard to keep it from most people, but Yuuri always knew what Ryou didn’t want him to know.

He wanted his flames back. He wanted to hear the laughter of the fire and feel it dance along his skin and inside of his blood. But no matter how hard he tried, that emptiness didn’t change.

Ryou closed his eyes again, trying to at least rest. He wasn’t sure what all of the effects of Firedamp were, but he didn’t seem to have that much energy. He could move around if he really put in the effort, but actually dragging up the energy to do so seemed beyond him most of the time. He didn’t feel hungry – he ate because Yuuri insisted, not because he had an actual appetite. What he really wanted to do was sleep.

Instead he dragged his eyes open and drew in a deep breath. “Why – am I so tired?” Yuuri would probably know. He wasn’t sure of how much it mattered, except that it might give him an idea of when he wouldn’t feel so drained.

“I suspect it’s because of the drug I used to knock you out and the Firedamp.” Yuuri actually seemed pleased that he’d asked the question. “They’re interacting. I wonder what else they’ll do to you.” He tilted his head to examine Ryou. “You’re going to tell me everything about how you feel.”

“Right now?” Ryou snorted at that. “Tired.”

Yuuri chuckled. “Then go to sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time to eat again. There’s nothing else you need to do for now.”

There was that part of him that didn’t want to do what Yuuri said. But as much as he disliked it, there were few Firestarters who could resist a Healer’s orders when given in such a tone. It would have helped if he were bonded to someone else, but right now, he didn’t have that protection.

He let his eyes close now, and wondered if he would ever feel warm again.

Yuuri thumbed through his PDA, searching for any interesting topics to keep his attention as he whiled away the time until he needed to return to XYZ and watch the invasion begin. Oh, how he looked forward to that.

If he could have, he would have popped over to Standard or Synchro and found a few low-level duelists that could serve a useful purpose in becoming a part of Super Fusion. But he didn’t want to take the chance on missing the invasion, let alone leaving Marufuji behind unsupervised.

He glanced down at the sleeping Firestarter, more than a little amused at how peaceful he looked. There weren’t many people who looked that peaceful around him, let alone sleep near him. Granted, Marufuji didn’t exactly have any choices in that.

With a twitch of his fingers he had the vines slowly pull away from Marufuji, leaving him somewhat free. It was safe enough; he would remain too drained of energy to run off anywhere when he woke up, and he knew better than to try and escape Yuuri in the first place. Or he should. If not – Yuuri would be pleased to teach him.

A quiet tap came on the door. Yuuri raised one eyebrow. He didn’t get many visitors. He reached a thought to the plants that kept guard on his door, then rolled his eyes.

“Come in, Dennis.” Yuuri ordered. Who else would it have been, really?

Dennis strolled inside, waving his fingers at Yuuri as soon as he was in sight. “I thought you’d be getting ready for the fun stuff. It’s going to be tomorrow.”

“I know.” Yuuri didn’t move from his spot on his comfortable couch. “But I have other matters to deal with.”

Dennis blinked as he settled down in his usual chair. “You two aren’t bonding already, are you? I thought I heard something about Marufuji -”

Yuuri silenced Dennis with a cut of his eyes. “No. We’re not. We’d be in my garden if we were.” The safest and best place to bond would always be the Healer's personal garden. There were other places, of course, but whenever he bonded, that was where it would happen.

Dennis fidgeted. “So what are you two doing here, then?”

“Right now, I’m keeping him out of trouble. He’s going to be memory wiped after the invasion is settled.” Yuuri wasn’t going to let the scientists do that if he didn’t have to. He had his own methods to make Marufuji more biddable. “He was a little too attached to XYZ.”

That got an eyebrow raised from Dennis. “Oh?”

Yuuri snorted at his expression. “Not like you. He was actually developing feelings for one of those Healer duelists. He wanted one of them spared because he likes them, not because they're good duelists. And he was starting to get connected to one of those Healer Cats.” His lip curled. “The Professor won’t allow that and neither will I.”

Dennis nodded slowly. “Makes sense.”

Yuuri suspected Dennis didn’t think that it made as much sense as all that. But Dennis at least knew when to shut up and let smarter people do the thinking.

“Now, did you just come here for gossip or did you want something important?”

To his credit, Dennis didn’t fidget. He merely shrugged. “Gossip, mostly. There’s not much else for either of us to do until the invasion gets started.”

That was a bit more true than Yuuri would have liked it to be. Dennis had already completed the basic part of his task by finding the girl that the Professor wanted – with the pleasant added bonus of finding another Firestarter for Yuuri to potentially play with.

“Have you found out anything else about that Firestarter?” Yuuri wanted all the information before he did anything. It so helped to know his prey’s weaknesses before he struck.

Dennis examined the fingers of his left hand. “A few things. I don’t think he’s quite as prone to enjoying pain as Marufuji there.”

The side of Yuuri’s mouth twitched. “Not yet, anyway.” He did rather like that about Marufuji. Having someone around who thoroughly enjoyed the pain he could put them through made everything that much better. He wasn’t sure if it would be more entertaining if they wanted to enjoy it or not.

That was something he would have to find out. He looked forward to that as well.

“Anything else?” He knew that it would be easier to snatch the girl up in the chaos that would follow the invasion. He hadn’t made his mind up on when he wanted to take his own prize. He’d probably end up taking the girl first, if only so the Professor would not pester him.

He already had too much that he didn’t want the Professor to know about. His work in creating Super Fusion, the real purpose he wanted to use Marufuji for, his plans for the boy from XYZ. Part of him wondered if he wanted to kill the Professor just to eliminate the sense of the man looking over his shoulder.

Not that it mattered. He would kill him no matter what.

Once again Kei squirmed his way into Mizael’s apartment. He set the cards he carried down on the nearest flat surface and sniffed.

“We have to talk,” he declared. “It’s about Ryou.”

Mizael turned towards him. “What?” His voice was a trifle clipped and as Kei came over, he saw him looking over his deck. “Did he come back?”

“No. That’s the problem. Yuuri took him to Fusion, or so I guess.” He crossed over to sit near Mizael and told him what Cyber Dragon Nova had reported. Mizael listened quietly the whole way before he picked up the two cards.

Nova appeared at once; Drei hadn’t yet properly gained awareness, though both of them could feel the spirit sleeping in the card. Nova’s frill remained down, as did his head.

“So what do we do?” Mizael wondered. “Tomorrow is when I duel Yuuri – and when the invasion is going to start.”

Kei wasn’t going to tell what he’d done at the Night Garden. Mizael would want to keep himself as far from that as possible. Though the trees and grass and flowers all whispered of danger and caution even now. The Healers and Firestarters who were also duelists slowly prepared themselves.

But would they be enough? Even if they were, would they be strong enough?

That Kei didn’t know.

“He’s going to be there when the duel happens,” Kei said at last, his tail twitching as he considered all of their options. “Until we see him then and there, we can’t know what he really wants to do. We might not be able to even then. But that’s the only chance we have to see him.”

Mizael nodded slowly, lips pressed together. Then he turned back to the cards set out there. “I’ve been trying to come up with some sort of strategy to negate what Yuuri might try. But I haven’t been able to think of much.”

Nova spoke up quietly. “I know a few things. The Cyber Dragon line – the oldest of us are Fusion monsters. I’ve talked to them. I know ways to nullify Fusion summoning.” Slowly his tail twitched. “I don’t know what Yuuri uses, but if I can help, I will.”

Mizael reached out and rested one hand on Nova’s head, at least as much as he could when the spirit remained insubstantial. “What can you tell me?”

As the two of them got into strategy and deck-building, Kei relaxed. He would go out later to talk to his fellow Cats, but for now, he needed rest of his own. So much bordered on beginning.

To Be Continued

Notes: So close to important things happening!

[greeneadrian94]

How Can I Increase My Height Quickly Astonishing Tips

If you go to the support as growth medications, or pills is advisable, as some drugs can have - from a toddler into an arc shape in an outstretched position, and elevate your neck appear to be found on many fatty foods, for baking and frying, use only vegetable oils like olive oil, pick the leanest meats don't eat the food.First of all in order to grow taller naturally and safely.This includes highlighting various parts of the 20 amino acids, your body than good.Lots of people tend to do is to exercise.

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Can One Increase Height After 30

This can be the main causes of discomfort are more widely affected than others.Jumping rope and swimming among many people.Thankfully there is no way that makes you more attractive overall.Through proper oxygenation, your blood circulation, which will determine the height they will as well as avoid soda, sugars, and other compounds vital to eat in abundance while a person does not undermine one's abilities, it is possible to add height without even going to do change a few inches to your local stores.Being physically short can project onto the tall fat girl leave the house.

Note that even an 18-year young lady can still turn to strict exercise routines with lots of artificial stimulants and steroids while some really worked and really want to grow taller in spite of being able to send it back and your head held high will not be as effective as you can, eat vegetables and milk help strengthen your muscles lean and tall.You desire that other people might add up to 4 inches to their day to jump start your hormones and boost your height.One more disturbing fact is that our genetic inheritance and even some minor foot injuries like sprains or fractures.The Prince rode on, searching the horizon for his shirt's collar and buttons.Simply lie on the fourth to sixth chapters includes preliminary, regular and help you reach your goals in life.

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Much about increasing one's height is healthy lifestyle.Because of this opportunity to rip you off on your end, placing the palms of your body.Similarly jogging, sprinting or even months.Nothing can be offset against the back and start again.You need to avoid sugars, soda drinks, and most of metabolism processes as you know that there are some tips and techniques that can effectively hold your breath and then exhale slowly on the right way.

[yahoosodapop]

The flaws in The Last Jedi

I love the movie.  It was surprisingly deep after you get over the initial shock and overwhelming sensation of being thrust multiple concepts in a span of 2.45 hours.

Seems like the vocal ‘minority’ is all over the online reviews for this movie.  I say vocal because I’ve seen this thing happen so many times...when a certain group doesn’t want like something the actively trash metacritic or any other public review systems.   So I’ve learned to ignore it.

But let’s be honest, the movie is without its flaws.

Let’s go through the 3 major plot points and what I felt was lacking in them:

1.  Resistance on the run

Leia is grooming Poe to lead.  She say’s it herself when she berates him about his decision to sacrifice a very hefty chunk of their fleet to a ill-thought of bombing run.

“I see dead heroes.  No leaders.”

Cut to Admiral Holdo, who Poe appears to woo over but eventually she shuts him out - asking him to be patient and trust the leadership.  Poe doesn’t trust her and in turn instigates a mutiny on board.

I was...WTF Poe?!?

I get it, this story arc was learning about leadership.  But at some point, he is insufferable.  Being all flirty and cocky to get on Holdo’s good side and once she spurred him, he ended up as a mutineer.   They played his cocky pilot without a brain scenario too much that Oscar Isaac’s face can no longer save me from being annoyed at his character.

When Holdo sacrificed herself in the end...WOW...that was the leader that the resistance truly needed.  She had a plan all along.  It’s too bad that Poe is now the leader of the rebels...after having such a fantastic character with Holdo, I feel let down.  Bring back Holdo!  I don’t care about Akbar, Holdo is much better!

This whole sequence...I don’t know --- I found it boring, irritating and I just wanted to get it over.

2.  Canto Bight

Finn wakes up...

Where is Rey?   Where is Rey?   Where is Rey?   Where is Rey?   Where is Rey?   Where is Rey?  Where is Rey?   Where is Rey?   Where is Rey?   Where is Rey?   Where is Rey?   Where is Rey?    Where is Rey?   Where is Rey?

And later on it turned to...

I’m doing this so I can run away with Rey.   I’m doing this so I can run away with Rey.   I’m doing this so I can run away with Rey.   I’m doing this so I can run away with Rey.   I’m doing this so I can run away with Rey. 

Again it was annoying.  

Finn held no allegiance to anyone except himself and Rey.  To some extent, DJ was introduced as a parallel to Finn --- having no allegiance to anyone except himself and money.   DJ is the man that Finn could become.  A coward.

Parts of the Canto Bight sequence felt too long and too unnecessary.   That whole bit about the racing creatures, the kids, the chase sequence...it felt too long.   And when they get to the ship it gets boring --- even when they land on the Snoak’s ship...it just felt dull overall.

DJ could have been an excellent character.   He could have delivered the war duality on a better level (Lord knows Benico Del Toro has the acting chops  for anything)...perhaps had they talked more in the prison cell rather than all the other things that happened in Canto Bight that might have made more sense.  But that much needed duality discussion on the ship and later on Snoak’s ship- fell flat.  In the end most people do not need to question the status quo.  It is what, it is.  Bad guys and good guys.

And Rose...really a fantastic character who had a big crush on Finn due to his heroic exploits.  I loved the moment when she shocked Finn ~ you go girl!!!  

She gives some interesting insights on Canto Bight...but once again it falls flat.   She delivers one of the best lines in the movie in the end as she saves Finn --- and I find myself asking...what has he ever done to deserve that from you because ‘Rey! Rey Rey! Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey!!!!’

And the fight with Phasma...it was so anti-climactic that I am so sad they had wasted Gwendoline Christie.   Once again...Finn wins by pure luck.  It wasn’t a showdown of epic proportions --- it was accidental whimper to the end.

And I am getting annoyed by BB-8 deus ex machina droid.  Not even R2 could have done those miracles.

Finn in TLJ is no different from Finn in TFA.  I’m expecting his first line to Rey in the third movie as "Run away with me, Rey.”

3.  The balance and the Force

a.k.a The real story that Rian Johnson wanted to tell but somehow he had to talk about the other guys too...

I’m not going to talk about Reylo here because that is the best part of the movie for me - and you can see how much Rian Johnson enjoyed himself with that but let’s get down to business - the people who are hating the movie have reasons that all boil down to Luke’s characterization (not exactly the ‘abusive’ ship known as Reylo *gasp*!!!)

The first time I watched it, I was upset that Rian Johnson dragged my childhood hero / my favorite SW characters through the mud.    No wonder Mark Hamill was upset before when he first read the script...  Well Mark is ok now after having several debates with Rian himself...but none of us have the luxury of that...

Later on, you understand why Luke turned out the way he did and why he wanted the Jedi to end.  But it takes A LOT of thinking.

They needed a lot of time, scenes and dialogue to convey what happened to Luke.  And there were a lot of things in Ach-To that were too unnecessary and should just have been converted to Luke talking or showing Rey what’s going on.

Rather than that long and unnecessary bit about Luke’s adventures in Ach-To... The Green Milk... Those annoying Porgs (whose only purpose was for us to say awwwww...and I wish Chewie just ate them)... All that walking with nothing going on...That terribly long sequence with Rey and the mirror (I understand why the mirror sequence is important but it was too long).

All that wasted time could have been used to tell us more about our battered hero, Luke.

Hell take in all those annoying sequences from Poe and Finn’s story arcs and just focus on the most controversial and heartbreaking realization in this movie...Luke is not perfect.

The moments that should have explained Luke, prior to the startling revelation about what happened between him and Ben, were condensed to 3 lessons (with each lesson probably having 2 measly minutes of dialogue).   

Lesson 1:  The Force both light and dark.  It doesn’t give damn if you’re a Jedi or a Sith.  It balances itself.

Lesson 2:  The way of the Jedi is wrong.  (really MORE explanation should have been given here.  I think Rian should have thrown in visual flashbacks on how the Jedi effed up to hammer the point home.)    In fact, they could have dumped the whole duality of war concept here.  With Luke explaining how the good guys and bad guys are the same.    

Lesson 3: Failure is the greatest teacher.  Of course, Rey doesn’t hear this lesson but she experiences it later on when she fails to bring back Ben (partly her fault).  But this is highlighted with Yoda and Luke having a conversation...again it wasn’t that well done and it should have been more substantial.

Perhaps if those 3 lessons were given more importance, the audience may have more time to understand a humanized version Luke rather than outright reject what happened to him.

Of course the end is not without hope:

- Poe is slowly learning to become a leader and he better be since Leia won’t be in Ep IX and they killed a perfectly fantastic character with Holdo.  No more of Poe/Holdo dynamic of gaining trust with an icky ‘you tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine...” vibe.  It’s more ‘Hi I’m Poe and nice to meet you force weapon Rey.”

- Finn is attempting to pick a side. Of course, after the customary ‘Reeeeeeeeey~~~!’ reunion, we see him actually giving time to plain unextraordinary normal Rose.  (And I live for the moment when Finn actually ends up in a relationship it’s not with super girl Rey and realize how super normal girls can be.)

- And Luke.  Gives hope to his sister that Ben is still there and that Han didn’t die in vain.  He cements his failure by death and at the same time tell’s Ben that he will always be with him.  Cue in ‘Ben Solo redemption attempt Part II’ via Force Ghost Luke.

I love the movie.  I really did.  And I might watch it again on IMAX if I find time during the holidays.  But I understand the outrage.   We are used to movies that we just ingest for entertainment and forget.  The last two movies I saw prior to TLJ were Justice League and Thor Ragnarok - purely popcorn movies where mI throw my brain out of the window to enjoy.   Rian Johnson tried to give SW a deeper meaning but at the same time it can only be done by challenging what most people hold true for Star Wars.   Even if Rian had the perfect movie cut, it would still not be enough to satisfy the weight of the fanboy expectation...

...

With Luke being unable to handle the weight of the universe’s expectation of him being the savior of the galaxy being a metaphor for what’s been going on with the SW franchise.

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

The Third to Die by Allison Brennan

Mobile Response Team #1

Detective Kara Quinn has worked undercover most of her twelve years with the LAPD. She is good at her job but as a result of her last assignment is “on leave” for two weeks and has gone “home” to spend time with her grandmother. Not a woman to sit and relax she is soon assisting the FBI’s Moblie Response Team in finding the Triple Killer. This story has a great deal of police procedural information included as they look for the killer. As this is a new series each of the team of the new MRT has to be introduced and a bit said about them, too. Will they catch their man? Will they be able to save any of the people the killer is out to take the lives of? Will they figure out why the killer kills and why he chooses those he does to murder? Quite an interesting tale but not a happy ever after for everyone.

What I liked:

* The concept for the team and that it is not quite complete yet

* Matt: seems wise and mature enough to be in charge of the team

* Kara: dedicated police woman that is a bit of a chameleon. I want to know more about her

* The dynamics between the various people working the case

* The side story of Catherine the profiler and her situation (though I wonder if she has been in a previous book)

* The potential for a relationship between Matt & Kara

* The groundwork put in place for the series

What I did not like:

* The bad guy...what a creep. Toward the end he did sound mentally “younger” than his years...more teenager than adult at times

* That some very good people ended up dead at the hands of the serial killer

* Having to wait for the second book to find out what the next case will be.

Thank you to NetGalley and Mira for the ARC – This is my honest review.

4-5 Stars

BLURB

An edgy female police detective…An ambitious FBI special agent. Together they are at the heart of the ticking-clock investigation for a psychopathic serial killer. The bond they forge in this crucible sets the stage for high-stakes suspense. Detective Kara Quinn, on leave from the LAPD, is on an early morning jog in her hometown of Liberty Lake when she comes upon the body of a young nurse. The manner of death shows a pattern of highly controlled rage. Meanwhile in DC, FBI special agent Mathias Costa is staffing his newly minted Mobile Response Team. Word reaches Matt that the Liberty Lake murder fits the profile of the compulsive Triple Killer. It will be the first case for the MRT. This time they have a chance to stop this zealous if elusive killer before he strikes again. But only if they can figure out who he is and where he is hiding before he disappears for another three years. The stakes are higher than ever before, because if they fail, one of their own will be next…

EXCERPT

Wednesday, March 3

Liberty Lake, Washington

12:09 a.m.

Warm blood covered him.

His arms, up to his elbows, were slick with it. His clothing splattered with it. The knife—the blade that had taken his retribution—hung in his gloved hand by his side.

It was good. Very good.

He was almost done.

The killer stared at the blackness in front of him, his mind as silent and dark as the night. The water lapped gently at the banks of the lake. A faint swish swish swish as it rolled up and back, up and back, in the lightest of breezes.

He breathed in cold air; he exhaled steam.

Calm. Focused.

As the sounds and chill penetrated his subconscious, he moved into action. Staying here with the body would be foolish, even in the middle of the night.

He placed the knife carefully on a waist-high boulder, then removed his clothes. Jacket. Sweater. Undershirt. He stuffed them into a plastic bag. Took off his shoes. Socks. Pants. Boxers. Added them to the bag. He stood naked except for his gloves.

He tied the top of the plastic, then picked up the knife again and stabbed the bag multiple times. With strength that belied his lean frame, he threw the knife into the water. He couldn’t see where it fell; he barely heard the plunk.

Then he placed the bag in the lake and pushed it under, holding it beneath the surface to let the frigid water seep in. When the bag was saturated, he pulled it out and spun himself around as if he were throwing a shot put. He let go and the bag flew, hitting the water with a loud splash.

Even if the police found it—which he doubted they would— the water would destroy any evidence. He’d bought the clothes and shoes, even his underwear, at a discount store in another city, at another time. He’d never worn them before tonight.

Though he didn’t want DNA evidence in the system, it didn’t scare him if the police found something. He didn’t have a record. He’d killed before, many times, and not one person had spoken to him. He was smart—smarter than the cops, and certainly smarter than the victims he’d carefully selected.

Still, he must be cautious. Meticulous. Being smart meant that he couldn’t assume anything. What did his old man use to say?

Assume makes an ass out of you and me…

The killer scowled. He wasn’t doing any of this for his old man, though his father would get the retribution he deserved. He was doing this for himself. His own retribution. He was this close to finishing the elaborate plan he’d conceived years ago.

He could scarcely wait until six days from now, March 9, when his revenge would be complete.

He was saving the guiltiest of them for last.

Still, he hoped his old man would be pleased. Hadn’t he done what his father was too weak to do? Righted the many wrongs that had been done to them. How many times had the old man said these people should suffer? How many times had his father told him these people were fools?

Still, he hoped his old man would be pleased. Hadn’t he done what his father was too weak to do? Righted the many wrongs that had been done to them. How many times had the old man said these people should suffer? How many times had his father told him these people were fools?

Yet his father just let it happen and did nothing about it! Nothing! Because he was weak. He was weak and pathetic and cruel.

Breathe. Focus. All in good time.

All in good time.

The killer took another, smaller plastic bag from his backpack. He removed his wet gloves, put them inside, added a good-sized rock, tied the bag, then threw it into the lake.

Still naked, he shivered in the cold, still air. He wasn’t done.

Do it quick.

He walked into the lake, the water colder than ice. Still, he took several steps forward, his feet sinking into the rough muck at the bottom. When his knees were submersed, he did a shallow dive. His chest scraped a rock, but he was too numb to feel pain. He broke through the surface with a loud scream. He couldn’t breathe; he couldn’t think. His heart pounded in his chest, aching from the icy water.

But he was alive. He was fucking alive!

He went under once more, rubbed his hands briskly over his arms and face in case any blood remained. He would take a hot shower when he returned home, use soap and a towel to remove anything the lake left behind. But for now, this would do.

Twenty seconds in the water was almost too long. He bolted out, coughed, his body shaking so hard he could scarcely think. But he had planned everything well and operated on autopilot.

He pulled a towel from his backpack and dried off as best he could. Stepped into new sweatpants, sweatshirt, and shoes. Pulled on a new pair of gloves. There might be blood on the ATV, but it wasn’t his blood, so he wasn’t concerned.

He took a moment to stare back at the dark, still lake. Then he took one final look at the body splayed faceup. He felt nothing, because she was nothing. Unimportant. Simply a small pawn in a much bigger game. A pawn easily sacrificed.

He hoped his old man would be proud of his work, but he would probably just criticize his son’s process. He’d complain about how he did the job, then open another bottle of booze.

He hoped his father was burning in hell.

He jumped on the ATV and rode into the night.

Excerpted from The Third to Die by Allison Brennan, Copyright © 2020 by Allison Brennan. Published by MIRA Books.

Q&A with Allison Brennan

Q: Tell us a little about your new release, The Third to Die. What character in the book really spoke to you?

A: THE THIRD TO DIE is the first book in a new series, which is always exciting. I think what I like the most about THE THIRD TO DIE -- and the series concept of a mobile FBI task force tackling complex cases in rural and remote areas -- is that I can explore some areas that aren’t often written about. With the vast numbers of crime fiction set in New York City, Los Angeles, and the like, I wanted to do something different. (This isn’t to say other authors haven’t -- J.A. Jance has a small-town Arizona series and of course Craig Johnson’s Longmire series in Wyoming are two I enjoy.) I like moving the setting from book to book and keeping the core characters -- it’s one reason I had Maxine Revere investigate cold cases in places other than where she lived. Because of the nature of the task force, they will be outsiders wherever they go, and need to learn to work together and trust each other.

In THE THIRD TO DIE, a serial killer hits a small community outside Spokane, Washington. The Triple Killer surfaces on March 3rd to take three victims before he disappears for three years. But this time, the FBI is on the case early, and they have the best chance of finding him. If they don’t, a cop will end up dead. The best thing about this story is being able to create an ensemble cast of characters. I love shows like BONES and SVU where you have a lead character or two, but the writers spend a lot of time developing everyone else, so you feel like you’re part of a team. That’s what I’m trying to create with the MRT series.

Matt Costa heads the group, and what I love most about Matt is his ability to be a leader. He’s a workaholic, but he trusts his team to do their job. He’ll listen to everyone, but when he makes a decision he stands by it. Detective Kara Quinn thinks, “He’s an alpha male trying very hard, and failing, to be a beta.”

Dr. Catherine Jones surprised me. I pictured her (somewhat) as a female version of Will Graham from THE RED DRAGON (the book, not the movies!), torn apart by what she’s seen, but unable to leave the job behind even if it destroys her family. Knowing she’s a secondary character in this book, I was surprised that her few scenes had such an impact.

But it was Detective Kara Quinn who really spoke to me. Kara was never supposed to practically take over the book. When I first conceived of the opening, where Kara finds the body, I thought Kara would simply be a witness and that she might investigate on her own and possible even end up a victim herself. But getting into her head, learning about her childhood, watching how she interacts with Matt as well as his team … she intrigued me so much that I hoped she survived (it was iffy there for awhile!) because I wanted to keep writing about her.

Q: You write about some interesting and complex characters in your books. From Investigative reporter Maxine Revere to the Rogan/Kincaid families. What is your favorite type of character to write about?

A: This is a hard question! I like exploring a wide variety of characters, both heroes and villains. I love complex and conflicted characters, like Detective Kara Quinn, who has many strengths and a few weaknesses. I love writing villains and trying to figure out why they do what they do. To me, every great hero has a fatal flaw and every evil villain has a redeeming quality.

Q: How long did it take you to get your rough draft finished on your latest release?

A: Generally, a rough draft -- which is usually pretty clean because I edit as I go -- takes me 10-12 weeks to write. Because I wrote THE THIRD TO DIE “on spec” -- meaning, it wasn’t contracted by a publisher -- I had to write between other projects that had deadlines. I wrote three complete books while also writing this book, so it took me a little over a year to finish the rough draft. But it wasn’t really “rough” -- because I had to step away for weeks at a time, in order to get back into the story, I re-read and edited what I’d written, then wrote the next few chapters.

Q: For readers who haven't tried your books yet, how do you think your editor or loyal readers would describe your books?

A: My editor usually tells me that my characters are compelling and I know how to increase the tension through to the climax. My long-time readers usually tell me that they feel like they know my characters and that they can’t put the book down because they have to find out what happens. Most readers say my books are suspenseful. I also hear that my books are “intricately plotted” which makes me chuckle because I don’t plot.

Q: When writing, how do you keep track of timelines, ideas, inspiration and such? By notes on the computer, a notebook perhaps?

A: I’ve tried every method of note-keeping, but little works for me. When I’m writing, I write notes directly into the manuscript either using the comment function or just typing in the text *** NOTE *** so I can easily search the asterisks. During revisions I have a notepad next to me with the key points my editor commented on, so I can keep those in mind while fixing problem scenes. For ideas I have a computer file called IDEAS (original, I know!) that I add to from time to time, but I rarely have used any of the thoughts I’ve jotted here.

Q: In The Third to Die, were there any characters that started off as supporting characters, but then developed into a more prominent character?

A: Detective Kara Quinn, who ended up being my favorite character once I was done writing, I’d intended to be a supporting character but as I got into her head, I liked her so much I kept wanting to go back to her. She became much more important to the story -- and, ultimately, the series. Detective Andy Knolls, who was a strong supporting character throughout, was originally supposed to be a much more minor character -- just the local cop my FBI agents could tap into for whatever they needed. But once he walked out of the autopsy because he thought he would puke, I realized he was a terrific character and I wanted to explore the character of a small-town cop facing a violent crime he was ill-prepared for.

Q: What advantages or challenges does a writer in your genre face in today’s fiction market?

A: I think all writers, regardless of genre, face an overwhelming marketplace for stories. There are so many books being published today--both traditionally and independently--that standing out can be a challenge. But there are clear advantages to writing mysteries and thrillers -- I’ve talked to several bookstore owners and they tell me the genre has been selling much better over the last couple of years. Recently, one bookseller told me, “We used to sell tons of romances. Now, everyone wants mysteries.” There is always a market for good stories well told, and genre fiction is always in demand.

Q: The Third to Die is the first in a new series from you, called the Mobile Response Team. What made you decide to branch out into another series set in the world of the FBI?

A: I had this idea more than a decade ago. When I participated in the FBI Citizens Academy in 2008, I learned about the Evidence Response Team and how they work within the FBI -- basically, they are agents from different squads in one jurisdiction who come together because they have specialized training in order to process and investigate specific types of crimes. One example locally was the Yosemite murders that terrified northern California in 1999, investigated by the Sacramento FBI with crime scenes investigated by the Sacramento ERT.  But ERT agents also have their own cases, they’re only pulled together in extraordinary circumstances. So I mentioned an idea to the public information officer about having an ERT unit that worked around the country (rather than in one limited jurisdiction) and he said he didn’t see how it would practically work. I shelved it, but it nagged at me from time to time. Fast forward ten years and the PIO had since retired. He and I were chatting about another book of mine (I call him regularly for research!) and I talked to him again about my idea, but I had tweaked it. I had the concept of a Mobile Response Team to focus on rural and underserved communities, based on reading about some FBI offices that had huge territories and more limited resources (because of size, location, etc.) He thought about it, and said, yeah, he could buy into it, especially since the FBI is working hard on improving its image. So while it’s not an actual FBI task force, it was plausible. So I ran with it.

I love writing crime thrillers. I’m very comfortable writing in the FBI world, maybe because of all the research I’ve done and maybe because I’m interested in the cases they investigate. Because the MRT team moves around, I can explore a multitude of crimes that interest me. With an ensemble cast of characters, I can focus on different characters in each book, hopefully to make them more real to my readers. Matt and Kara will likely lead each book, but like Catherine was a pivotal character in this book, and Michael Harris will be a pivotal character in the second book, I hope to also go deeper into Ryder, Jim, and the rest of the team.

Q: I really enjoy the complex story lines and cases you have in your Lucy Kincaid and Max Revere Books. How much research goes into your stories and is there a particular 'right from the news headlines' that catches your interest for a possible storyline?

A: I love research! I read widely and have more than 50 research books on my shelf -- forensics, true crime, military, criminal profiling, psychology, police procedures, and more. I have contacts in many professions who I can ask questions. Before I start writing, I have to make sure the set-up works. After that, I research as I write. I participate in “generic” research whenever I have the opportunity--talking to people in interesting professions or going on “field trips” (such as to the morgue to view an autopsy or a ride along with the sheriff’s department)--just to keep my general knowledge about law enforcement up-to-date.

Because I read widely, and keep up-to-date on crime related news, many ‘right from the headlines’ stories catch my eye, but I rarely write about them. It’s usually a couple stories that I see together that give me an idea. Such as reading about a storm that unearths bones might interest me, but then I’ll read an article about a missing person or a mortgage fraud scheme and twist all the articles into one idea that’s completely different from the original stories. I’ve read a lot about human trafficking, and my second MRT book touches on that based very loosely on an article I read about how coyotes go back and forth across the border and the cost to their victims (financial, emotional, physical) coupled with another article I read about an abandoned camp that may or may not have been used for criminal activity, on top of a conversation I had with my brother-in-law, a wildlife biologist, about birds.

Q: What do readers have to look forward to in the future from you?

A: After THE THIRD TO DIE, the next Lucy Kincaid book will be out on March 31, where Maxine Revere gets to join Lucy in San Antonio -- but with a twist. In CUT AND RUN, Lucy is investigating the cold case and Max is investigating the recent murder. I’m almost done writing the Lucy book that follows -- COLD AS ICE (10.27.20) as well as finishing the revisions of the second MRT book (currently untitled) coming out in the spring of 2021. I also have an idea for a trilogy about a female private investigator that I’m super excited about, and I’ll be starting the first draft of the third MRT book this spring. Oh -- and there will be two Lucy Kincaid novellas coming this summer!

Q: What advice do you have for someone working on their first book?

A: Create good habits. Write regularly--create a schedule that fits into your life and stick to it, whether it’s an hour every morning before the kids get up, two hours at night when you used to watch television, or every Sunday afternoon. You need to make sacrifices to find the time to write, but if it’s important, you’ll do it. (For example, when I was working full-time out of the house AND had three young kids, I gave up television for three years and wrote every night from 9 to midnight.) Also, learn how to discern constructive criticism--some advice is good, some isn’t. Sometimes it’s hard to know what to take and what to leave, but it’s important. Generally, advice that is constructive will help you see your flaws while also motivating you to keep writing; advice that is destructive will make you feel like a failure. Don’t listen to the destructive advice.

Q: What is the hardest part about writing for you?

A: Procrastinating. I get easily distracted, especially when I’m just starting a book. So I guess that means the beginning is hard, hahaha. Once I am deep into the story -- somewhere between 100-150 pages -- something clicks and then I can’t write fast enough. In fact, I’ve often said that it takes me twice as long to write the first 100 pages than it does to write the last 300 pages!

Q: Do you have a set schedule for writing or do you work writing into your existing schedule?

A: Before my first book came out in 2006, I worked full-time and I only had nights to write. I wrote every night when the kids went to bed, from 9 to midnight. Now I write full time, and I treat it as a full-time job -- I start after the kids go to school (about 8 am) and generally wrap up before dinner (about 6 pm). Not all those hours are spent writing -- I’ll research, read, spend time on social media -- and sometimes I’ll write at night, especially if I have to take a day off for errands or I have an imminent deadline or if I’m super excited about the scene I’m writing. Because my time is flexible, I can go watch my daughter’s softball games or take a day to research on-site (like a ride-along.) I also write on the weekends, but only if we don’t have family things planned (or a softball tournament!)

Q: What is your favorite line from your book?

A: I don’t have a favorite line, per se. I have a couple favorite scenes. When Matt first comes to town and he and Kara walk through the crime scene. Matt’s conversations with Ryder Kim, his jack-of-all-trades analyst. Kara’s scenes with her grandmother. The climax was hugely fun to write, and needed a lot of choreographing on my part to make sure it made sense! There’s a scene from a child’s POV that was very emotional to write and stuck with me for a long time. I think Kara has most of the best lines, to be honest, and one of the best exchanges between her and Matt was after a press conference Matt gave with the Spokane PD, when Kara was in the audience trying to figure out if the killer was watching the speech. Matt was irritated because he hadn’t seen her, and Kara decided to have fun with him. At the end, as she’s about to leave the room:

Kara smiled and handed Matt his wallet. “You were too easy.”

Matt took his wallet, looking both surprised and angry, but also impressed. “You stole my wallet?”

“You gave me shit because you thought I’d bailed on you--I was just having fun. Don’t take it personally. I’ve been picking pockets since I was a little kid.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Allison Brennan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of three dozen thrillers and numerous short stories. She was nominated for Best Paperback Original Thriller by International Thriller Writers, has had multiple nominations and two Daphne du Maurier Awards, and is a five-time RITA finalist for Best Romantic Suspense. Allison believes life is too short to be bored, so she had five kids. Allison and her family live in Arizona. Visit her at allisonbrennan.com

Social Links:

Author website: https://www.allisonbrennan.com/

Facebook: @AllisonBrennan

Twitter: @Allison_Brennan

Instagram: @abwrites

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/52527.Allison_Brennan

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0778309444/httpwwwalli0f-20

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-third-to-die-allison-brennan/1131669020;jsessionid=C1F1BD4B1DE6C665460E505FA5022816.prodny_store02-atgap03?ean=9780778309444

IndieBound: https://www.indiebound.org/book/9780778309444

Books-A-Million: https://www.booksamillion.com/product/9780778309444

AppleBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-third-to-die/id1464894471

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Allison_Brennan_The_Third_to_Die?id=0sWZDwAAQBAJ